Kimber smiled and wished he were there so she could give him a big kiss. She welcomed the extra sense of security the system would bring. Ever since she'd spotted the guy watching her, she'd felt vulnerable and jumpy. What if Throttle hadn't followed her home? Shivers ran up her spine when she thought of someone lurking in the shadows, watching her while she was inside her house, believing she was safe.
"I'll definitely feel better once it's installed. Thanks. I can't miss class, so can you arrange for them to come tomorrow? I don't have any classes, and I know Hawk will let me take the day off."
"It's gotta go in today. I don't trust that motherfucker. I'll take care of it."
"But you don't have the key to the house. I could give a spare to the prospect. What's his name, anyway?"
"Blade. You can, but I can get in without the key."
She shook her head while smiling. "Let's do this the easy way. I'll give it to Blade."
"Whatever. I'll call you later. I got a customer here who's chewing one of my workers' ass off. Gotta go."
"Later."
She placed her phone down, a warm glow spreading through her. Underneath all Throttle's gruffness, he's a real sweetie. And a damn cute one. Whoa, Kimber, be careful. Remember, he's still a biker. She opened the screen door. "Blade, I spoke with Throttle. Everything's cool."
Blade looked away, his eyes riveted on the cluster of trees across the street. She knew he'd never engage in conversation with her. He was a prospect, which meant he did the grunt work for all the members all the time. He was basically a nobody until he received his full patch and colors. "You want a cup of coffee?"
"I brought my own." He motioned at his backpack without looking at her.
"Okay." She went back inside to get ready for class.
* * *
"Do you want to come with us to the student center?" Carla, a friend and classmate, asked.
"Not today. I have to talk to Redman about my project, and then I have to go to work. Next time." Kimber watched as Carla and a group of her classmates chatted and laughed as they walked out of the business building. Hanging by the door, Kimber stood up straight when her professor exited the classroom. "Dr. Redman? Can I talk to you about my project?"
Dr. Redman glanced at his watch, then peered over his reading glasses. "I have thirty minutes before my next class. If that's not enough time, you can make an appointment."
"That should be more than enough time," she replied as she followed him to his office around the corner.
Sitting down on a cushy chair near his desk, she glanced at the degrees hanging on the wall. Damn, I'm thirty years old and just working on an undergraduate degree. Dr. Redman doesn't look more than ten years older than me, and he already has his PhD. I'll never get the fuck out of school.
"What seems to be the problem you're having with your project? Have you identified the business you want to start?"
They spoke about the specifics she needed to have for an effective business plan, as well as hiring people, healthcare, and all the other issues that went into owning a business with employees. As she closed her notebook, she smiled. "Thank you for sorting all this out for me. I'm really enjoying your class. I signed up for your fall Business Ethics class."
"I'm not sure I'll be able to teach it. It's not common knowledge yet, but I've been appointed dean of the college, and my position starts in the fall school year. I'm not too sure how it will all work out."
Disappointment weaved through her; Dr. Redman was one of the best teachers she'd ever had. "Who'll be teaching the class?"
"I believe it'll be Dr. Donsky. He's very good and students seem to like him."
"I have him for Business Marketing. He's fine." The truth was she thought Dr. Donsky was a bit of a letch, the way he'd stare at the women's legs and chests. He was subtle about it, but she'd caught him checking her out on more than one occasion. He seemed harmless enough, and his kids were pretty cute. One night she actually babysat for them when he and his wife had to attend a school function and their babysitter flaked. She'd needed the money because Hawk had started her out real slow to see how she'd do.
"I'm a teacher at heart, so I'm hoping I can still teach a class a semester. Do you have any other questions or problems you'd like to go over?"
"No. I'm good." She gathered her books and ambled to the door, then stopped and swiveled around. "Congratulations on your promotion. The college is lucky to have you at the helm."
He smiled. "Thank you, Kimber. I look forward to reviewing your project in a few weeks."
She rushed over to her Harley and threw her books in the saddlebags. She was going to be late; it just seemed like she never had enough time.
"Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly as she dashed to the bathroom to change her clothes.
"No worries. Your security system has been installed," Hawk said.
She stopped and looked at him. "Thank you, but I insist on paying for the installation and the monthly service. You can take my payments out of my check. I want to pay the club back."
He waved his hand. "Forget about it. Throttle told me what happened. You listen to what he tells you, okay? This fucker doesn't sound like an average peeping pervert. Watch yourself, and let Throttle take care of you."
She stiffened. "I don't need a man to take care of me."
"Cara used to tell me that too, and I'm gonna tell you what I told her. It's okay to need a man to help you out, and sometimes it's fucking necessary-like now for you. Just let Throttle lead on this one."
"Okay." She left to change into her uniform. She wasn't stupid, nor was she a martyr; she would let Throttle help her out because she had no intention of being the Lingerie Bandit's next victim. She had a gut feeling that was who'd been watching her, and the thought chilled every nerve in her body. She rushed to the bay, cranked up the radio, and shoved back all thoughts of danger to the recesses of her mind.
By the time the shop closed, Kimber was sweaty, greasy, and totally charged. Three of the customers told Hawk that she'd done the best work they'd ever seen on their bikes. Plus, the one Harley she'd customized for an old, burly dude who didn't trust her near his motorcycle came back to the shop and gave her a case of Coors as a thank you. That fucking made her day.
Kimber went to her locker and took out her tote, then slammed it shut. With the overstuffed bag on her shoulder, she passed by the front counter on her way out. Patrick was the only one left, and he was stacking the receipts for Hawk to go over in the morning. "See you," she said, waving at him.
"You going to the clubhouse party tonight? I heard Hawk and a couple of the members talking about it this afternoon. It sounds like it's gonna be a big one. From what I heard, a lot of members from the other Insurgents' chapters are staying at the club for a few days. It sounds like it'd be fun."
"I wasn't invited. Are you going?"
His eyes widened. "No, but I'd love to. If I went, my mom would kill me first and my uncle Banger would do it all over again." He slumped against the back wall. "When I turn eighteen, I wanna prospect for the Insurgents. I know I still got two years to go, but I've wanted it ever since I can remember."
"I'm sure your mom's not too crazy about that plan."
He shook his head. "She's not, but my uncle's thrilled and told me he'd work on her so she'll let me make the decision. He said I may even change my mind once I turn eighteen, but I know I won't."
"Prospecting isn't an easy job, and you could end up doing it for two or three years, so I'm with your mom on that one."
He shrugged. "So, are you gonna go tonight?"
"I've been to club parties before back in my hometown, and they can be pretty damn wild, especially for a woman who isn't patched or with one of the members. I don't think it'd be a good idea for me to go."
"You don't have to worry. You're with Throttle."
Pink streaks painted her face as she stared wide-eyed at Patrick. Damn. I didn't expect that. "I'm not with anyone."
"Really? That's not the word around the shop. All the guys refer to you as Throttle's woman."
"Oh, do they?" That fucking asshole. He's gone and told every man to keep their distance from me. No wonder all the guys have been acting like I had the damn plague for the last week. "Well, I'm setting the record straight-I'm no one's woman. I'm my own person."