Shayna’s minivan pulled in, driven by Noah with Liam in the passenger seat. Logan remained hidden behind tinted glass in the back. I hastily retrieved a paper plate and slid a juicy burger patty onto some soft buns.
“Thanks, babe. I’m starved,” Liam said as he crossed the lot.
I jerked the plate out of his reach. “It’s not for you.” I turned my gaze onto Logan. He hobbled toward his welcome back barbeque on crutches, smiling carefully. One eye was still swollen shut.
I hurried over to meet him. “Hungry? I made this special.”
Logan examined the burger. “Medium rare, huh? My favorite.”
I helped him settle into a picnic table. “I’m sorry,” I said immediately. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been sticking my nose into your business.”
Logan shrugged and winced. He rubbed his shoulder, squeezing out the pain he apparently felt there. “You did what any good friend of the club would’ve done. I don’t blame you. This kind of stuff comes with the job.”
I sat down beside him. “So what now? The Scorpions are pretty much dissolved. Your job’s finished.”
Logan chewed thoughtfully on his burger. “The case isn’t over, yet. And outside the MC and the sheriff’s department, nobody knows I’m an undercover agent. I’ll probably stick around, ride it out. So long as nobody blows my cover or anything.” He winked.
“I promise I won’t blow your cover,” I said.
“We’ll see about that. In the meantime, you can make things right with me, starting with a nice cold beer.”
“I’m on it.”
I crossed paths with Liam on the way back from the keg. His face fell when he reached for the beer in my hand, only to watch me jerk it out of his reach again.
“Let me guess. Logan?”
“Yeah.”
Liam smiled with his lips closed. “Make sure he knows that at the end of the day, you’re my old lady,” he said loudly for the whole yard to hear.
Laughter floated through the air. Liam and I shared a meaningful pause, our gazes locked inside of each other. You’re my old lady. His words bounced around inside of my head. I felt every cadence of his musical voice spreading in waves through my body. You’re my old lady. You’re my old lady.
I was his old lady.
Somehow, I was able to handle the moment with composure. My deepest, most undignified self wanted to shriek with joy and throw my arms around Liam’s neck. Instead, I gave him a smile and a one-armed hug that lasted seconds longer than it should have. “Thank you,” was all I said. But by the look in Liam’s eye when I pulled away, I could tell that he knew that I meant it, that I would thank him a million times in every earthly language if I could.
I managed to serve Logan his beer before he was swarmed by the other old ladies, and he was back in his old element, grinning wickedly from the middle of a den of women.
I pulled Liam toward the keg. “Let your old lady pull you a drink,” I said.
Liam shook his head. “Not yet.” He turned his gaze to the sky, painted in evening shades of pink and orange. “I want to take us on a ride, first.”
We promised everybody we’d be back within the hour. I straddled the seat behind Liam, touching my pelvis to the base of his back. The bike sputtered and roared as we turned away from the clubhouse.
I squeezed myself into Liam’s back, letting the wild scent of his hair blow back into my nostrils. A couple months ago, I’d been lonely and single, perched precariously on the tail end of an abusive relationship. And now, here I was, wrapped in leather, smelling of tequila and smoke, happy as a clam.
Liam’s Harley was as far from a noble steed as I could get, but he was the Prince Charming at the end of this strange fairytale, riding me into the sunset.
Author’s Note
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