Chapter Twenty-Six
“Does he ever smile?” Zoe asked before taking a bite of her sandwich.
“No. He’s not supposed to,” Casey said.
“And he’s your bodyguard, right?” Zoe tilted her head left, then right. “He’s really buff. I mean his arms are real fine, you know?”
“You’re drooling.” Casey smiled.
“No. I’m not.” Zoe frowned and took another bite. “I find this whole thing very interesting. I never knew anyone who had their own bodyguard.”
“He’s just keeping an eye on me until Rags gets the security system installed. It should be in by tomorrow.” Casey pushed her empty plate to the side.
“You must’ve been hungry.” Zoe laughed.
“I was, and the quiche was fantastic. I love this place,” Casey said, inhaling the aroma of baked bread enveloping the bistro. “And looking at all the oil paintings of street scenes in Paris makes me want to go there—like now.”
“This is my favorite French eatery in town. You can tell the chef-owner is from France.” Zoe dabbed at the crumbs at the corner of her mouth. “But I don’t blame you for wanting to escape to France with that psycho stalking you. Do you have any idea who it is?”
Casey leaned back in her chair. “No. I don’t even know if someone is stalking me.
Rags sort of blew this out of proportion.
” She glanced over her shoulder at Hog then looked back at Zoe.
“I don’t think I need a prospect babysitting me, and I think it was a fluke that someone came into my backyard that night. ”
Even as she said the words, slivers of fear crept up her spine. Her gut told her something wasn’t right, but her rational mind refused to accept it was anything more than a Peeping Tom.
“I’d be scared shitless. With that crazy strangler still on the loose, none of us can feel safe.
I can’t believe the cops haven’t found him yet.
It’s not like we’re in Denver. Pinewood Springs isn’t that big.
” Zoe took a long drink of her wine. “I also think it’s incredibly romantic that your man has someone watching your back when he’s not around.
I can’t even imagine Ryan doing that… or even thinking of it. ”
A gentle warmth spread through Casey. “He’s pretty special.” A smile curved her lips.
Zoe’s eyes widened. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Casey shrugged. “Maybe. I know I feel safe and connected when I’m with him. I love being with him. He makes me laugh and feel cherished.”
“Oh, Casey.” Zoe leaned forward. “I’m so happy for you. After everything you went through with your ex, you deserve a good guy—even if he is sorta scary and gives off dangerous badass vibes.”
Casey laughed. “All outlaw bikers fit that bill.”
“Yeah, like your bodyguard.” Zoe’s gaze drifted to him. “He has some fierce-looking tattoos, but I find them fascinating. He’s actually pretty hot, isn’t he?” She licked her lips, then looked back at Casey.
“He’s all right. Zoe, I think you’re having doubts about Ryan.”
“I’ve had doubts about Ryan since we started going out after meeting at Blue’s Belly. I mean, he’s a nice guy, a real gentleman who says and does all the right things—like pulling out my chair and paying for our dates—but…” Her voice trailed off.
“But what?” Casey picked up her glass of Perrier and took a sip.
“There’s something odd about him. I can’t put my finger on it. He’s almost too considerate and polite, you know? And he’s still strange when we make love,” Zoe said, lowering her voice.
“You’ve been saying that for a while. You need to move on. If you’re not getting good vibes, trust your instincts.”
Zoe nodded. “I know you’re right. I guess I keep thinking things will improve…
especially the sex. The other stuff is nice.
I mean, most guys I meet want to split everything, and then want you to perform like you’re some stripper or something.
” She scrunched her napkin. “I don’t know…
I guess I just haven’t found the one, even though I keep trying. ”
Casey reached out and patted her friend’s hand. “You will. You’d be surprised how it happens when you least expect it. You’ve got a lot to give, and I know you’ll find someone who appreciates you. Just let it go and don’t overthink it. It’ll happen.”
Zoe sighed. “I know. I’m just getting impatient. I think that’s why I keep seeing Ryan. It’s nice being with one guy instead of going on endless dates hoping one works out. Ryan’s stuck around longer than anyone else this past year. That counts for something, right?”
“I suppose. Just don’t settle because he’s still around. You deserve more. If you have those niggling doubts, then trust your instinct, not your fear of being alone. Does that make sense?”
“It does. But it is nice to have someone to go out with regularly. I know you’re right, though. I’ll see what happens over the next couple of months. He’s a nice guy—even if he’s a bit odd.” Zoe smiled.
“When things slow down in a few weeks, I promised to have you and Ryan over for dinner. How does that sound?”
“Great. And your man will be there, too?”
“Of course.”
“Now tell me about this party you’re going to at his clubhouse. Aren’t you scared and excited at the same time?”
“I’m excited to be included. It’s a big deal for an outlaw to bring a woman to a clubhouse party. This one’s especially important because it’s not just his club, but the charters and support clubs, too.”
“But aren’t you scared with all those dangerous men around? I bet they outnumber the women by a landslide.”
Casey chuckled. “They will. There are always way more men than women at the club parties. If this were my first time, I’d be terrified of the unknown, but I’ve been to enough club parties to know the score. I just have to stay glued to Rags’s side.”
“What if you don’t?”
“Then that could be trouble. I’d be seen as fair game, which means I’m looking for a fun time however the bikers want it.”
“Oh shit,” Zoe gasped. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t, so I need to stay with Rags at all times.”
The memory of JT abandoning her at one of the last parties invaded her mind.
He’d taken off somewhere, leaving her alone in a room of drunk, high men who kept leering at her.
The only thing that saved her was JT’s property patch and Razor stepping in, his firm arm around her.
Razor always looked out for her. He never said anything against JT, but she knew he thought JT was an asshole.
“Are you still with me?”
Zoe’s voice pulled her back, the memories scurrying to the shadows of her mind.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about JT and what a jerk he was.” She laughed.
“You have to tell me all about the party.” Zoe glanced at her phone. “I didn’t realize how long we’ve been here. I better get back to work.”
“Me too,” Casey said, pushing her chair back.
The cool air wrapped around them as they stepped out of the bistro. Hog followed behind them until Casey stopped in front of the theatre, waving to Zoe as her friend crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd.
* * *
Casey glanced at the heap of clothes on her bed and sighed as she pulled out another pair of jeans, this time black skinny ones. She held them against her and studied herself in the full-length mirror.
“This won’t do. Damnit. Why am I overthinking this?”
She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand and sank onto the mattress, worn out from trying on combinations of clothes for the last half hour.
Rags was picking her up in twenty minutes.
She pushed to her feet, rummaged through the pile, pulled out a leather mini skirt and a lace-up front denim halter top, and started to dress.
The doorbell rang just as she tossed the wide-tooth comb onto her vanity in frustration. Her hair was more unruly than usual. She quickly pulled part of it back, secured it with a hair tie, then grabbed her small purse and leather jacket, and rushed down the stairs.
Rags stepped inside, then stopped short. His gaze locked on her face before sliding over her body, stalling at her top’s plunging neckline, his eyes smoldering with fire. “You look amazing, babe,” he said, stepping toward her.
“So do you,” she murmured, her eyes running over his tight black T-shirt, jeans, and cut, covered in a multitude of patches that marked him as a one-percenter who did some hardcore things for the club.
The glow of the setting sun highlighted the skull, snake, and blood-dripping tattoos on his right forearm.
Tribal bands covered his left, alongside the number 9—representing the I for Insurgents.
Right beneath it were the initials FTW. Fuck the world.
“Get over here,” he said, his voice low, his arm reaching for her.
“We’ll never get to the party if I do.” She winked and shrugged on her leather jacket.
Rags laughed. “Would that be so bad?” He tugged her to him and kissed her hard. “You need to stick by me, otherwise I’ll be fighting brothers all night. You got it?”
“Yes.”
Rags’s eyes narrowed. “How many club parties have you been to?”
“A few. I know the score.”
“And you’re supposed to tell me how you know it.”
“I will. I promise. Tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
He broke away and walked around the townhouse checking the windows and door locks.
“I have a security system, remember?” Casey said.
“I know, but you still gotta make sure everything’s locked up. Have you had the feeling that someone’s watching you?”
“No. Not since that night last weekend. I do feel better with the alarm system.” She snagged his hand as he passed and pressed against him. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me,” she whispered in his ear before brushing a soft kiss over his lips.
“Of course, Case,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her.
The loud beep of his phone drew his attention away. He pulled it out and glanced down.
“Anything important?” she asked, running her nails lightly over his forearm.