Page 19 of Riding Rough
Oh God.I huff out a heavy sigh and lean back in my chair, lifting the gun from Diesel’s arm. I love Amber. We’re friends, and I know deep down she’s worried and wants to help, but I don’t need her big, scary dad showing up to fix things for me.
I lift my foot off the pedal switch and stare at Diesel. I’d guess he’s in his late forties by the salt and pepper hair and his rough, enormous hands. Though, I’m not sure it matters when you have a face like that, large, inked biceps, and a thick and full beard that I just want to explore… everywhere.
Did I really think that?I shake my head and squeeze the bridge of my nose between two fingers. “If this is about the fight my father and I had, I’m fine.Really.”
“Amber said he kicked you out of the house and you’ve been camping out near the creek.”
“I’ve been camping at the creek because I needed a break. I’m twenty-five. It’s time I got out of that house, anyway.”
He stares down at the ground, then glances up at me again. “We had some pretty bad storms pass through here last night. It’s not safe.”
“I understand you’re here doing your daughter a favor, and I appreciate that, but if you’re asking if I need protection, or whatever it is you motorcycle guys offer, I don’t.”
He nods. “Okay. You don’t.” His arm stretches out, and he stares toward me as though he wants me to go back to work.
I sigh and lean into his bicep, trying to steady the gun where I left off, but my hands are shaking. “You know… if I were you, I wouldn’t talk emotional shit with your tattoo artist, especially when they’re still learning.” I laugh. “Praise.I work better with praise.” I don’t look up, but I can feel him staring toward me, burning a hole in my face. “What are you looking at?”
“You’re doing good. The lines are crisp. Keep going.” His deep voice sends a shock straight through me.
I need to get laid. I’m one hundred percent sure that all of my problems could be solved with one solid dicking. A release of tension, and a reminder that I’m desired. “If you want to talk, why don’t you tell me the truth about what kinds of opportunities you’re hoping your six of spades will get you.”
He shifts abruptly and inspects his arm closely. “It’s supposed to be the six of hearts!”
“Chill… I’m fucking with you.” I chuckle under my breath hoping this is what I need to finally relax.
He laughs and settles back in. “Okay. How about I answer your questions then you answer mine?”
I roll my eyes and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I know I’m going to need a distraction so I can finish this tattoo, so I reluctantly agree.
“Deal. Talk to me.”
He straightens and clears his throat. “Alright. Well… I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the MC is doing volunteer work to help finish the lodge at Balsam Creek by Christmas.”
I nod and resume my work while I listen to his deep and soothing voice.
“Anyway,” he continues, “the whole build has been a real pain in the ass.”
My gaze narrows. “Yeah, so now tell me what you’re really thinking about.”
He pauses for a long moment. “Nosey little thing, aren’t you?”
I bite back a smile. I don’t know why being called a‘little’anything gets me giddy, but it does. Maybe it’s because I’ve been a lot less thanlittlemy entire life. I’m tall and I’m thick. I got it from my parents. They like to say farm stock is grown differently. Now, all we need is a farm.
“I’m not nosey, I’m perceptive. Do you want to be a ballerina or something?”
He huffs out a hearty laugh and the ink gun shifts.
I glance up. “If that line’s fucked up, it’s on you.”
He nods. “Agreed.”
“So,” I refocus on the upper right-hand corner, “what are these big dreams you have?”
“I really don’t talk about this shit with anyone.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” I grin without looking up and adopt some British accent that I’ve never heard myself use until today as I say, “Come on now, lad. Buck up and tell me your deepest desires. What opportunities are you trying to catch?” Okay, maybe it’s not British. Now it sounds more Irish.
He doesn’t mention the strange accent, but my cheeks burn red.