Page 30 of Rest In Pieces
Midas watches her with interest, but she’s too damn young for either of us. “Need a hand?” Midas asks Jimmy.
Jimmy shakes his head, grabbing a baseball bat from behind the bar. “I’ve got it, but thanks.” He storms out, leaving us with Amanda.
“You okay, darlin’?” Midas asks her softly.
Her cheeks flush as she dips her head, her shyness a complete contrast to the woman she was a few seconds ago. “I’m fine. I’m just in the mood to create a virus that’ll wipe out all men from the planet today.”
“Ouch, tell me how you really feel,” he jokes.
“Sorry. I’m sure you’re a gentleman.” She snorts, making him grin.
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re going wrong. You’ve been looking for a good man when what you need is a bad boy.”
I watch them for a second before nudging Midas with my elbow. “I’m heading out. You coming?”
“I’ll catch up to you.”
I hesitate, but then I think,fuck it. Not my problem. She might be young, but she’s legal, and I’m not her daddy.
Leaving my bike in the lot, I walk over to the diner. The bell chimes as I open the door and take a quick look around, but I don’t see who I’m looking for. Balls.
“G! What can I get you, sweetheart?” Gina, the owner, calls from behind the counter.
I smile at her. Gina’s got this retro thing happening with her beehive hair and polyester dress, like something straight out of the fifties.
“I’ll have a coffee and a short stack of pancakes with a side of bacon,” I say. I better get something in my stomach, or I’ll feel like shit later.
“I haven’t seen you around much lately,” she comments as I sit at the counter.
“Busy with work.”
“I know that feeling.” She sighs, pouring my coffee. “I’ll just put your order in for you.”
“Thanks, Gina.”
She walks off, leaving me to ponder my next move when the bell above the door sounds. I ignore it, figuring it’s just Midas.
As I sip my coffee and think about where to look next, the stool beside me is pulled out. I look up to ask Midas if he got Amanda’s number when I damn near swallow my tongue.
“Amity.”
“Hello, Sleeping Beauty.”
8
AMITY
When I saw him through the window, my first instinct was to leave. I’ve had enough of bikers to last me a lifetime, no matter how curious that man makes me.
Then I remembered the food I’d ordered and knew it was worth more than my life to go home empty-handed. Nevaeh was lost in her writing cave when I left, but when she emerges, she’ll be hungry. I’m smart enough to know that if I piss her off, I’ll end up in her next book getting dipped in honey and mauled by a bear or some shit.
I swallow my pride, wishing I’d worn fireproof underwear. Something tells me I’ll need them around this particular biker. I mean, come on, the guy’s covered in tattoos and piercings. He’s got a damn tongue ring that makes my clit throb like a homing beacon. All I’d need for the orgasm trifecta is to put him in a pair of gray sweatpants, and there’d be a puddle on the floor between my legs.
Avoiding the man has to be easier than carrying around acaution slippery when wetsign and a fire extinguisher. But here I am, walking through the stupid door with the stupid bell that might as well be a stupid gong signaling the start of the fight between me and my out-of-control libido.
You got this, Amity. Mama didn’t raise no pussy.
Of course, my little pep talk would be much more effective if I didn’t know my mom’s love for tattoos and bad boys is the reason I’m standing here now, after a one-night stand involving a rock band, a couple of lines of coke, and a bottle of Jack.