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  “But with his history plus this latest with the Saddletramps—”

  “No. I don’t believe it. Not with a fucking Saddletramp. No way.”

  “He was with them, Bump. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  At the news, Bumper seemed to deflate in front of Zag. The fight went out of him and he kind of sagged. It tore Zag up inside to be the one doing this to his buddy. But better now than in front of all their brothers in the middle of the meeting. Didn’t make it any easier, though. Fucking Preacher.

  The vice president, Axle, walked around the corner and lifted a hand. “You ready?”

  Zag nodded. “I’ll see you inside, Bump.”

  But Bump might as well have been on another planet. Not sure how to comfort his buddy, Zag smacked him on the shoulder as he walked away.

  Axle followed and tipped his head in Bump’s direction. “He coming?”

  “I think he just needs a sec.” Zag pulled the back door open.

  “Don’t we all. I still can’t fucking believe it. Preacher and Saddletramps. What the hell was he thinking?”

  Rebel, the club’s president, was slouching against the meeting room door, his usual stoic expression replaced with a scowl. “He wasn’t thinking. That fucker is so mixed up in drugs and booze, he don’t know which way is up.” Reb looked over at Zag and inclined his head. “You tell Bumper?”

  Zag nodded. And didn’t need to say anything more—Reb knew how hard the news would hit Bump.

  “Christ. Let’s give him a minute and get a drink.”

  Rebel led them to the bar where most of the guys congregated before and after meetings. Tonight’s bartender, Stitch, poured Zag his usual shot of whiskey without asking. But when the shot landed in front of him, Zag wasn’t interested. He twisted the glass in his hand and listened with half an ear while the group around him traded war stories. Some were scaring prospects with tales about past battles, others talking about Preacher—apparently the news was out already—but the group around him was talking about the one thing Zag would rather be thinking about: women.

  “You would not believe the set on this chick.” Axle held his hands out in front of his chest in an impressive show of make-believe cleavage.

  “I swear to God the tits get bigger every fucking time he tells this story,” Reb said.

  “Nah, they were this big. I’m telling you. You wouldn’t believe them unless you saw for yourself,” Axle argued.

  “You’re so full of shit, man.” Reb slung an arm around Axle’s shoulders and held him in a playful chokehold. “I say we call this fucker’s bluff. You two met up last weekend at the Mineshaft?”

  Axle’s eyes bugged out slightly as he nodded.

  “I say after the meeting we go to the Shaft. If it was as orgasmic as you say, she’s probably already there trolling for round two.”

  “Hell yeah,” Stitch tossed in, holding up his glass of whiskey and soda. “I could use a little T and A to go with my Seven and Seven.”

  Zag just shook his head. His mind was on a curvy, doe-eyed blonde. Jessica. How she could even think he’d be tangled up in Preacher’s bullshit was ridiculous. He had to set a few things straight with her.

  And then, of course, he wouldn’t mind some T and A action afterward. God, that woman had him more tied up than any other. The combination of sex and sweet was like nothing he’d ever had before. He couldn’t wait to hear that little sound she made deep in her throat right before—

  “You guys ready to head in?” Reb slapped a hand on Zag’s back, bringing him out of his daydream.

  Zag flinched and hoped like hell no one noticed the little problem south of his belt. But apparently everyone’s attention was fixed somewhere behind him. He turned to see Bumper standing in the club’s doorway, his expression carefully blank. Zag lifted his chin at his buddy, but Bump didn’t return the acknowledgement.

  Zag’s jaw clenched as he turned back to Reb. “Let’s get the meeting started.”

  He joined the group streaming into the club’s meeting room and took a seat at the front with the rest of the board members.

  Reb stood at the podium and addressed the club. “I think most of you know why we’re here tonight, but I’ll recap for those of you who’ve missed the latest. Earlier today, Preacher was arrested for distribution with the intent to sell. At the time of his arrest, he was in the company of two members of the Truckee Saddletramps MC.”

  A general grumble rose up from the crowd. The Truckee Tramps were the enemies of the Brothers. To even see them in True Brothers’ territory without reporting it was a punishable offense, but to be arrested with Tramps for any reason other than beating the shit out of them was unheard of.

  Axle stood up. “I make a motion to kick Preacher the hell out of the club.”

  “I say we send someone inside to kick his ass,” someone in the group yelled.

  Although he was across the room, Zag could see Bumper vibrating. A muscle in Bumper’s jaw flexed, then he stood up. “I move that we wait until he’s out and can face the charges himself.”

  “Bullshit,” Stitch yelled out. “I don’t need to hear his side of it. He was with a bunch of fucking Tramps. End of story.”

  Bumper shook his head. “Preacher still has the right to stand up in front of us against these charges. He’s our brother, we owe him that much.”

  “He still owes me four hundred dollars. I don’t owe that fucker anything,” a guy named Tank grumbled.

  “He owes me three,” another yelled.

  “Me too,” someone else said.

  Reb slammed his fist on the podium. “All right, everyone calm the fuck down. Normally we’d wait to hear Preacher’s side of the story before entertaining a vote, but in this case there is no defense. One of our own witnessed Preacher’s arrest.”

  Zag stood up and looked directly at Bumper. “A few hours ago, my woman saw Preacher in the parking lot of the Mother Lode with Baggies full of white shit and talking to two Saddletramps. By the time I got there, the pigs were already on the scene and Preacher was in the backseat of a cruiser. A pile of drugs and money was on the hood and they were patting down the two Saddletramps. Whatever the hell Preacher has gotten himself into ain’t Brother MC approved, especially with Tramps involved. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  As the club’s sergeant at arms, Zag was responsible for the safety and security of the club. He had taken an oath to ensure that the rules of the club weren’t violated. And hanging with Tramps fucking violated more than a few of them.

  “If there are no further objections—” Reb broke off and looked Bumper’s way. Bump shook his head. Reb turned back to the group and waited a beat before continuing. “We’ll vote on Preacher’s expulsion from the club. All those in favor?”

  A resounding “aye” echoed through the room, Zag’s voice included as he sat down. But Bumper said nothing.

  “All opposed?”

  Nothing. For a group of rough and rowdy bikers, the complete silence was atypical.

  Bump still said nothing.

  “The motion passes. Zag will collect Preacher’s patches as soon as he surfaces.”

  Zag crossed his arms over his chest and nodded tightly. Another one of his sterling duties as SAA for the club. Of course, how he collected the patches was completely up to him.

  “That was the sole purpose for today’s meeting, so unless anyone has anything else…”

  Zag stood up again. “I move to claim Jessica Miller as my old lady.”

  Reb turned to him with wide eyes. Zag could see the what-the-fuck questions circling in his mentor’s head, but Reb gave him all due respect and said nothing. Zag knew there’d be questions later.

  Reb faced the group. “Any objections?”

  The guys shrugged or shook their heads.

  “Motion passed. One Jessica Miller is now recognized as Zag’s old lady with all the respect and protection due to her.” Reb paused for a second, then shook his head. “Anything else?”

  The guys g
rumbled and fidgeted in their chairs. The bar was calling and the guys clearly wanted to get their drink on.

  “Next meeting is July first. Dismissed.”

  Most of the guys got up and headed toward the bar. But Bump sat frozen in his chair. Zag doubted his buddy had heard anything more after they’d voted to expel Preacher. Fuck. He had to do something. He headed over to his friend, but Reb’s bark had him freezing three steps later.

  “Zag. Office. Now.”

  He should’ve known. There was no way Reb was gonna let his bombshell surprise go without at least a lecture. If he was lucky. Zag took one last look at Bump—not that Bump noticed anyone—and followed Reb into his office.

  Although calling it an office was generous. It was Reb’s sanctuary in the clubhouse as president. Zag stepped through the doorway and ignored the two worn club chairs in the corner and headed toward the minifridge instead. He took out two beers and tossed one Reb’s way before he plopped onto the worn leather sofa like he owned the place. Hell, it’d been his second home for ten years, so it kind of felt like his anyhow.

  “What’s up?” Zag asked, like he didn’t know what was going on.

  Reb slammed the door behind him and cracked open his beer. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “About…”

  “This goddamn Jessa, Jessica hick, whatever the fuck her name is?”

  “Hold up.” Zag sprang off the sofa and stepped toward Reb. Although he’d never quite top Reb in height, he used every inch to intimidate. “Jessica is my old lady. I won’t let anyone—even you—throw shade her way. You got a problem with Jess, you got a problem with me.”

  “Shit, that wasn’t what I was saying, boy. I-I-I—” He ran a hand over his buzzed head before he walked over the club chairs and collapsed in one. “You’re too fucking young to tie up with a woman.”

  Zag shook his head, then followed Reb’s lead, taking the remaining chair. “I’m thirty-six. Since when is that young?”

  “Fuck, man. You’ve seen me and Rhonda. We fight like cats and dogs. Used to make up the same way, but those days are long over. Ain’t no such thing as happily ever after.”

  “That’s good ’cause I wasn’t looking for it. You don’t know Jessica. She’s too good for me. But it’s my fault she’s wrapped up in this bullshit with Preacher. She never would’ve approached a biker in a parking lot if we weren’t together. I gotta protect her. And I need the club behind me to do it.”

  “I just…I can’t help but think of you like a son. I took you in as a snot-nosed teenager. I gotta keep an eye on you. Fuck knows the kinda trouble you used to get into.”

  Zag laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m a little old to get into a bar fight over some chick I don’t know because she’s got a set of amazing tits. These days I’m a little more selective.”

  Reb paused and took a long gulp of beer. “Too good for you, huh? I think I’m gonna need to meet this Jessica. You’re bringing her to the Fourth of July bash.”

  Zag jerked his head in a tight nod. Not that he had a choice. Reb phrased it more like an order than a request. That gave him two weeks to get back into Jessica’s good graces.

  If she let him.

  But he had to protect her. It was his fucking fault she was in this whole shitty situation. He’d brought her into his world—tainted her. Now he had to make sure she’d get out of it in one piece.

  Because if he knew Preacher, that fucker wasn’t going to let this rest without causing one hell of a dustup. And Jessica was right in the middle of it all.

  Chapter 10

  Jessica

  JUNE 27

  I hated Fridays. Fridays particularly sucked, since they were the main check-in days, which meant tons of customers. Tonight’s check-in line snaked through the entire lobby with no end in sight. I had another long night ahead of me. So I had to keep my cheerful smile in place when I was feeling anything but. The combination of the musical chimes of slot machines and the roar of dozens of guests chattering wasn’t helping my headache any. I blamed the fancy domed ceiling. It might’ve looked awesome, with its intricately carved and gilded finishings, but it only made the acoustics horrendous with so many guests yammering about.

  Of course, my attitude had nothing to do with it.

  The past week had been an exercise of endurance. First there was the call to my boss and the subsequent interview with the police. Apparently the camera on that level of the parking garage had been out for a few weeks. Somehow Preacher had known that and had taken advantage of the convenient meeting place. Sounded like there was a good chance I’d have to testify if it came to trial. Yippee.

  Then there was the embarrassing task of admitting my involvement with a member of the True Brothers MC. I could still see the judgmental looks on the officers’ faces. They’d been so sure I wouldn’t testify, like a few romps in the hay with Zag had somehow altered my sense of right and wrong.

  Zag. His name still hit me with a pang. How could I have been so stupid? I’d been hoping that maybe our bedroom antics could lead into something more. Was starting to wonder what made that enigmatic man tick. Well, now I knew. A shit ton of drugs and the money that came with it. I’d been so stupid.

  I masked my morose internal thoughts with a fake smile for the departing guest and lifted my hand at whoever was next in line. Just two more hours until the end of the shift. Then it was a pile of Ben & Jerry’s and whatever depressing movie Lifetime was broadcasting tonight.

  “Welcome to the Mother Lode. Checking in?”

  I went through my job on autopilot, like I had the whole week, fake smile firmly in place. Even Nicole and Emily couldn’t drag me out of it. And Lord knows they’d tried. Movies, chocolate, and fruity cocktails hadn’t been able to brighten up my mood. I tried to tell them I just needed a few days to work myself out of my funk. Not that they’d listened. But then that was what I loved about my friends. They had my back no matter what.

  Of course, it didn’t help that I felt like I was being watched. I couldn’t really put my finger on why, but I kept getting that weird tingle. Not that I ever saw anyone suspicious. Zag had been by my place twice, but when I didn’t open my door for him he’d given up. So obviously there hadn’t been anything between us after all. Like Nicole said, good riddance.

  “Enjoy your stay.” I lifted my hand again. “Next in line.”

  I tapped at my computer screen to exit out of the last customer’s account as I addressed the next customer. “Welcome to the Mother Lode. Checking in?”

  A low drawl answered me. “Yes, I am.”

  What was it about Zag? Even now I was projecting his voice onto some random customer. Obviously I had a problem. “Guest name?”

  I looked up to smile at my guest, but I was too busy picking my jaw off the floor. Zag. It really was him.

  “George Cooper. But my friends call me Zag.”

  “I-I-I…What the hell are you doing here?”

  Seleste was running the desk next to me and I could see her out of the corner of my eye craning her neck to find out what was going on at my station. Shit, the last thing I needed was a scene. I was already on thin ice with my boss for not reporting the drug deal straight away.

  This time I kept my voice low. “Go away or I’ll call security.”

  “Is there a problem, princess? I thought you couldn’t turn me away since I’m a paying guest and everything. Or do I need to go talk to someone else?”

  I glared at him. “George Cooper, you said?”

  “Yes.”

  I tapped away at my keyboard. I had a hard time believing he was a paying guest, but I wanted to be sure before I called security over and made a scene. My jaw dropped when I saw the room George Cooper had booked—a suite in the tower with a Jacuzzi tub and a separate sitting room.

  I guess he really was a drug dealer. How else could a mechanic afford one of our best rooms? The tiny sliver that held out hope died inside me.

  I set my jaw and tapped away on my computer. “Stayi
ng for one night?”

  “Yes. Is that all you have to say to me, princess?”

  “How are you paying for the room?”

  “With two months of overtime.” Zag slid a credit card across the desk.

  “I’m sure your friend Preacher will help you find some easy money.”

  “Preacher’s been kicked out of the club.”

  I froze. Kicked out? But then that would mean…“Really?”

  “Yes, he’s out. We need to talk, you and me. When are you off?”

  I ran his credit card, then set up his room keycard and tucked it into an envelope. “You’re in room 2532 and it’s against corporate policy to fraternize with guests. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, Mr. Cooper.”

  Zag’s eyes hardened. “Don’t give me the company line. Me and you have to sort our shit out. I expect to see you in my room when you’re done. Which is when again?”

  “Two hours,” I answered before my brain kicked in. Dammit.

  “See you then. And sweetheart, you better show. You don’t want me to have to come find you.” And with that he turned and walked away. His booted feet sounded overly loud in the hectic lobby.

  Or maybe that was my imagination.

  I took a deep breath and cleared out my computer. Honestly, I didn’t know what to think. Were they really not into drugs? Had I been too quick to judge? Or was Zag just trying to save face? But then why would he want to see me? I was sure he had plenty of women on the back burner. The guy practically oozed sex appeal. I didn’t know what to think. Or do.

  Crap.

  Seleste touched my shoulder. “You okay?”

  I heaved a sigh and ignored the obvious. “Just another hectic Friday.”

  “Tell me about it. At least you only have a few hours until you’re off shift. I still have five more to go.”

  I raised my hand and beckoned the next guest over. “Yup, lucky me.”

  —

  Two hours later, I paced the break room as I tried to figure out what I was going to do. It was crazy to just go up to his room, right? And it wasn’t like I owed him anything per se. Although we were kinda sorta seeing each other when things went sideways.