Zisa
I had to work to keep my mind mostly on my customers and their questions versus on the man watching me for the past hour. Earlier, when he’d come up to the table, I’d recognized him, even before he took care of the annoying pain in my ass who’d bothered me twice before.
Last night, I’d been unable to sleep, so I slipped off to one of the bars to have a drink. Since I wasn’t much of a drinker, I knew one would be enough to help me relax so I could sleep. While I was nursing it, I saw a hunk of man at the bar. It was his motorcycle cut that grabbed my attention first. Devil’s Regulators, Norfolk, Nebraska , was enough to get one’s attention, but the man himself would do it and keep it long after seeing the name.
Even on the stool, I knew he was more than an inch or two over six feet, more like four inches. His shiny bald head was perfectly shaped. He wasn’t one of those guys who shaved it and should keep it covered in hair. It showed off his espresso skin and made me want to run my hands all over it. His cut was stretched over hulking shoulders. Most of his arms were visible in the T-shirt he wore. They were beefy, with veins popping on them—the way bodybuilders did. There were tattoos scattered over one arm. I couldn’t see the other one.
I could see his face in the mirror behind the bar. It was masculine and attractive without being pretty. He had a faint mustache and a tiny amount of scruff on his chin. His dark eyes were focused on the television over the bar.
I was drawn to him in a way I was rarely drawn to men. It was so intense that I was about to do something I didn’t do—walk up to a strange man in a bar and strike up a conversation. I was about to stand when a blond sidled up to the stool next to him. It didn’t take a genius to see she was on the prowl. She was giving him and the bartender hungry looks.
When the bartender walked off, she began chatting up the Black Adonis. I watched, curious to see if he’d go for her blatant invitation. I found myself hoping he’d tell her to get lost. I was close enough to hear their conversation. When she rambled about signing her up for the biker life, I saw his expression change. Disappointment slammed into me. I stood up.
Walking off, I muttered aloud, “Of course, he’ll say yes to that.”
I scrambled to get out of there before I did something stupid, like go over, slap her, and tell him he could have me. Wow, that pour must’ve been way strong. Back in my room, I stripped and got in the shower. As I washed, I scolded myself for even thinking he’d be interested in me. I was a confident woman, but I found that many Black men seemed to want Barbie-like women on their arms. They thought of them as status symbols or something. I didn’t care who was with whom, but it did get old being told one’s own race didn’t find you attractive or acceptable.
For me, it took more than a guy’s skin color to decide whether I wanted to spend time with him. I’d been with White and Black men and even an Asian. As I slid into bed, I consoled myself with the thought that he was probably an egotistical asshole anyway.
I modified that judgment when he stepped up to eliminate my annoyance. I was more than capable of doing it, but his chivalry was nice. I’d waited anxiously to see if he would come back. I wasn’t scared for him. I had no doubt he could handle the other guy.
When he returned, he’d taken up residence off to the side with his arms crossed. He didn’t say a word or interfere with my sales. In fact, I think he got me more because women passing by veered off to huddle there. They cast him glances as they listened to my sales pitches and made purchases. This was turning out to be a lucrative day.
MMM25 was winding down. This was my first time selling at one of these. If it hadn’t been for one of my favorite authors, whom I met at one I attended as a reader, and her talking me into getting a table to display and sell my wares, I wouldn’t have ever done it. She assured me it was exactly what the event needed. After the signing, we’d gotten to talking outside the event area with a group of readers, and she’d asked what I did for a living. Fast forward, here I was.
I was startled when it was announced that the signing was over and all readers should please exit the room. The vendors and authors had to break down their tables, box up their merch, and tote it away. I felt let down when I didn’t see him anymore. I’d gotten distracted with my last customer. Turning around to open one of my totes, I jumped. Standing there behind me was him. He was staring intently at me. I gulped. Faced with him this close, I was at a loss for words.
“Why don’t you let me help you with this? It’s a lot to do on your own,” his deep voice rumbled. I wanted to shiver at the heat his voice caused to wash through me. It settled in my cooter.
“Ah, thank you, but you’ve helped me enough today. Thank you for removing that nuisance. It wasn’t necessary, but it was appreciated.”
“It was my pleasure. And this will be, too. I’m Moose. Am I correct in assuming Zisa is your name?” he asked as he held out his hand to me.
Praying my palm didn’t feel sweaty, I latched onto his hand. He engulfed mine, making me feel small and dainty, something I seldom felt. Pricks of heat shot up my arm, then throughout my body, again settling in my cooter that was damp already. Moose didn’t let go of my hand immediately, and I didn’t want him to. I scrambled to answer him.
“Hello, Moose. Yes, I’m Zisa.”
“Let’s get you packed up, and then we can get to know each other,” he said.
I felt bereft when he let go of me, but it would be weird to hang on to him. Somehow, I wasn’t sure how I got to packing. He insisted on helping to fill totes once he knew how I wanted them organized. He’d pick it up and stack it off to the side when one was full. I had a foldable wagon that would allow me to stack several on top of each other to pull them out to my van. It took me three trips to get it all in here.
Once they were all full, I faced him again. “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome, but we’re not done yet. Show me where you want these taken.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I objected.
“But I do. How else will I have an excuse to talk to you longer?” he asked with a wink.
His easy manner and teasing smirk made me laugh. “Then grab the handle, and let’s go. Try to keep up, big man.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not about to lose you.”
It was a trek to get to my van. After we did it three times, I was tired and needed to cool off and have a drink. And I wasn’t the one doing more than walking and pushing the button to open my van doors. We were back inside the hotel. I was back to feeling nervous and unsure. I was opening my mouth to ask if he’d like to have a drink when I heard my name called. Whirling around, I saw the author approaching us who’d turned me on to the event. She was beaming, and behind her was a mob of people. The majority were bikers like the one beside me if their cuts and tats were any indication. Moose moved closer to me.
SK Tennison, or Sara as she had shared with me, opened her arms, and I stepped into them when she got to me. We hugged and then stepped apart to smile at each other.
“I’m so glad I found you. I want to hear how it went. Did you do well? I see you’ve found one of our friends.” She gave Moose an assessing glance.
“Sara, you know Zisa?” he asked.
“Know her? I’m the one who convinced her to come as a vendor rather than a reader. This is her first one on the other side of the table. How did you two get acquainted? You know, belay that. You should come to dinner with us. We’re all heading out to get some food. Please say you’ll go with us,” she begged me.
Being the focus of so many’s attention was somewhat unnerving, but I gathered my wits enough to accept. “I’d love to if you’re sure you wouldn’t rather hang with your friends.”
“Sweetheart, you know she’s dying to hear it all. You’re not getting rid of us that easily,” Trident said. I’d met him before, and he was always lovely and welcoming. I grinned at him.
“I was trying to be polite. However, it would be great to de-stress and talk. Are you eating here at the hotel or somewhere else?”
Trident snorted. “I think they’ve had more than enough of the crowds today. We’re going out. We’ll introduce this bunch of hooligans after we get to the restaurant.”
“Lead on,” I told Trident.
Right before everyone turned, I caught the speculative looks I was getting from several of the guys. When I saw their backs, I saw two clubs’ names on them. The Ares Infidels, Tenillo, Texas , was Trident’s club. He’d told me about them at the last book signing. The rest were from Moose’s. Those from Moose’s were mainly giving me speculative looks. I fought not to moan when Moose’s hand landed on my lower back, just above my ass.
It wasn’t until we were outside that I thought of my van. “Oops, wait. Tell me where you’re going. I’ll meet you there.”
“No need. You can ride with us. We brought my truck since we had all the books to bring,” Trident offered. He gestured toward a huge pickup.
“If you’re sure, then yes, please.”
The others split off to go to numerous bikes. I was envious. I figured Moose would do the same, but he walked over to Trident’s truck instead. He opened the rear door for me and took my hand to assist me up into it. As he let go, he smiled at me.
“I’ll be right behind you. Don’t let anyone steal you away when we get there,” he said before closing the door.
I heard Sara sigh, and Trident was grinning as he closed her door. We chatted about how she did during the event for the short distance to the restaurant. I insisted she tell me first. As she did, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doing the right thing by joining them. The longer I was around Moose, the harder it would be to ignore the attraction.