Goldie(Night Rebels MC Romance Book 4)(7)

"If we go swimming while it's lightning, then we deserve to be torched," Hailey said. Brent guffawed and Troy glared at her.

Halfway through her pasta carbonara, Hailey excused herself to go to the ladies' room. The truth was she had to take a break from the doomsayer. Troy was driving her crazy. She fluffed her hair and reapplied her apricot lipstick. Rory always saw the world through rose-colored glasses, so how she put up with Mr. Downer was beyond Hailey's comprehension. She knew her snippy remarks to Troy's doom and gloom were starting to irritate him big-time. Rory had thrown her "the look" several times, and she was trying to be good, but Troy was grating on her nerves big time.                       
       
           



       

The way Brent was playing the peacemaker was also picking at her. She had to admit that, other than his conciliatory gestures, he was an okay date. He was considerate, attentive, and agreeable-in other words, vapid as hell. He didn't excite her one iota.

Cringing when she anticipated Rory's chagrin over her assessment of Brent, Hailey pulled down her black skirt and headed to the door. Brent seems like Rory's type. I'm surprised they're not going out.

She stepped into the hallway and slammed right into someone. "I'm so sorry," she gushed as she stepped back.

"That's okay. How are you?"

That voice. I know it. She looked up into the eyes of the tattoo artist. Her stomach turned over, her pulse raced, and the hallway became a lot smaller. "It's you."

His smile revealed white, straight teeth, making him more handsome. "Yeah. It's me."

"Are you here with a date?" The minute the question spilled out of her mouth she wanted to take it back. Why the fuck did I ask that? I sound like a desperate moron.

"No. Are you?" He leaned in to her as a woman came down the hall.

"I am. Blind date." Her lips twitched and she looked away. The scent of soap, leather, and fine whiskey looped around her, making her light-headed. Heat radiated from him as he pressed closer to her. She leaned against the wall and he placed his hand on it, his toned arm inches from her. Glancing sideways, she saw his tattoos curling and twisting around his magnificent bicep. Tempted to run her tongue over his taut skin, she bit on the inside of her bottom lip.

"And how's that going?" His tone was low, velvety in its richness. It slid over her, landing right between her legs.

She shifted to her position. "Okay."

"That's good. How's your tattoo doing?" His warm breath fanned over her face.

"Good."

For a few seconds, their gazes locked with each other's; then he turned his head and bent down further. Parting her lips, she raised her head slightly. Her heart beat wildly and everything around her disappeared except for him. Raw, male sex exuded from him and, without thinking, she placed her hand on his hip. He came closer and she felt her lips sparking in anticipation of his kiss.

"What're you doing, Hay?" Rory's voice came crashing in, shattering the moment.

He pulled away and stepped back, and she groaned in frustration. He threw her a half smile and winked at her, then sauntered away.

"Wasn't that the guy who gave you the tattoo? What were you doing with him?" Hailey watched as he disappeared around the corner. "Brent was wondering what was taking you so long, so I came to find you. You do know you're on a date with Brent, right?"

Hailey focused her attention on Rory. "Don't lecture me, okay? I just bumped into him, literally, when I came out of the bathroom. No big deal. Let's go back to the table."

"It looked like you guys were going to kiss." Rory walked behind her.

"Well, looks can be deceiving." Hailey made her way through the restaurant, her gaze darting around, but she didn't see him.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't rid him from her mind. Every time Brent would brush against her or place his hand over hers, she wished he were the tattoo artist. The blond-haired man with the drool-worthy body tempted her, teased her, and made her want him. She'd never had a reaction to a man like she had with him. She wanted to rip his clothes off, kiss and touch every inch of him, climb on top of him and ride him to ecstasy. She wanted his lips on her skin, licking her and making her come over and over. Hailey crossed her legs and shifted in the chair; just thinking about him aroused her.

After paying their bill, Rory suggested they go to a bar to continue the evening. Brent readily agreed, while Troy grumbled about it, and Hailey wished she could go home.

"Let's go to Rocky Top. They always have great drink specials," Brent suggested.

"That's a good idea," Rory said as she grasped Troy's arm and snuggled next to him.

"We can't stay too late because I have an early morning meeting," Troy said with a frown.

Rory smiled. "It's still early. We'll only have a couple of drinks."

The quartet walked down the block and entered the bar. It wasn't very crowded and they found a booth by the window. Pop songs played overhead as they placed their order with the waitress.

After a few minutes, Brent scooted closer to Hailey and put his arm around her. "You doing good? You've been quiet ever since you came back from the ladies' room," Brent said.                       
       
           



       

Rory threw her a warning stare. Hailey stirred her drink. "I guess I'm just tired. The shop's been so busy."

Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it. "I know how that goes."

"And it's the damn heat. You probably got overheated at the restaurant, and now it's freezing cold in this bar. It's not good for your body to go from one drastic temperature change to the next." Troy brought his bourbon and seven to his lips.

"I don't think that's it. Hailey's been running the floral shop and going back and forth to the rehab center to see her aunt. That can be exhausting. And she's at the shop six days a week," Rory said.

Hailey nodded, but her mind wasn't on the conversation-it was on the sexy guy's mouth sucking her nipples while his fingers dove into her. "Oh." The small moan escaped through her lips, and heat rose up her neck as all three of them stared at her. If she wasn't so mortified, she'd have busted out laughing over Rory's tight-assed expression. She gulped her vodka tonic, then picked up her purse.

"Ladies' room?" Rory said tensely.

She shook her head. "Home. I'm really tired, and I have to open the shop in the morning." She pushed her chair back. "I had a really nice time. Thanks." Smiling at Brent, she stood up.

He jumped to his feet. "Are you sure you don't want to stay out a little longer?"

"I'm sure. Thanks for dinner."

"I'll walk you to your car."

Ignoring Rory's disapproving look, she walked out of the bar with Brent at her heels. When she got to her car, he gently turned her around. Staring into her eyes, he said, "I had a great time. I'd like to see you again."

Dread weaved up her spine. I hate this part. He's a nice-enough guy. "I'm so busy right now."

"Lunch, coffee, a quick drink. We can even agree that we'll only go out for an hour. I'm pretty flexible. I just want to see you again."

Shit. "Okay. Give me a call and I can see what my schedule looks like." Chicken.

Brent's eyes lit up. "Great. I will." He leaned in for a kiss, but she turned away and his lips landed on her cheek.

She pulled away and opened her door. "I've gotta go. Thanks again."

"I'll call you," he said as she pulled away, and she didn't doubt for a minute that he would.

On the way home, she took a detour past the tattoo shop. As she approached the parlor, she saw three men standing outside. Slowing down, her breath caught when she saw him. Without thinking, she pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine. Gripping the steering wheel, she took several deep breaths. This is insane. I need to go home. Right now. Looking in her rearview mirror, she saw him talking with two other buffed men who were dressed similarly in jeans and leather vests. He took a drag on what she thought was a joint and exhaled, wisps of smoke floating around him. As if sensing something, he turned in her direction.

With her insides quivering, she switched on the ignition and drove away.

By the time she arrived at her house, she'd calmed down. Grateful that she hadn't made an ass of herself, she parked in the garage off the alley and walked through the yard. Inside, she changed into her cotton nightshirt, poured a glass of wine, and curled up in one of the cushy chairs in the sun-room.

There was a full, bright moon, and glimmering stars freckled the ebony sky. As she sipped her wine, images of him played out in her mind. She knew she wouldn't get much sleep that night, her mind too active with thoughts of him. I should stop all this nonsense and try to find someone best suited for me. Brent wasn't her type, but she figured there must be someone in Alina who was and wouldn't be a heartbreaker.

Maybe I need to just forget all this and concentrate on the shop and Aunt Patty. If someone is meant for me, we'll find each other. She laughed. Now I'm beginning to sound like Rory.