Chapter Nine
I’m never drinking again.
Two days later, and she was finally getting over her hangover.
She woke up the day after her birthday with a blasting headache, unable to keep anything down.
She was mildly aware of Ghost and Joker checking up on her, but every time she woke up from her naps there was a fresh plate of food, water, and aspirin on her nightstand.
Apparently, her drunken night had made the rounds at the clubhouse, and Ace ordered her to stay in bed.
She wouldn’t be working for the next few days.
Cleo didn’t argue. She needed that time to recover.
After a shower, she got dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, and rolled her shoulders, feeling the ache in her bones.
How much did she drink with Ghost? She walked downstairs, trying to combat the nervous energy sprinting through her body and the heat racing through her veins.
After the altercation about the flowers with the girls from the party, her memories from that night were a bit fuzzy.
She had snippets of events, one being her forcibly kissing Wraith.
It could’ve been a figment of her imagination, but when she relayed back a few small blurred memories to Joker while he was dropping off some food, he confirmed their accuracy, leading her to believe she did, in fact, kiss Wraith.
And I don’t even really remember.
This was her punishment for drinking too much.
Cleo was pleasantly surprised to find the downstairs empty.
While she was feeling better, she wasn’t quite ready to face people.
One especially. She shifted around the kitchen, grabbing a pan from the cabinet.
With her stomach on the mend, she was craving a real meal that didn’t consist of toast. When she turned toward the fridge, Wraith was standing in the doorway, taking up most of it.
She’d successfully avoided him the last few days.
But her luck had run out. It was always difficult to gauge Wraith’s mood strictly by appearance.
He had a permanent scowl. But it did nothing to dissuade her attraction.
That was the last thing she should be thinking about right now.
Heat blasted her cheeks, and she forced a smile. “Hi.”
His brows dipped. “Been looking for you.”
I’m sure you have.
“I wasn’t feeling great.”
Wraith arched his brow. “Yeah, I know.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “Got your color back.”
What? She brushed her hand across her cheek.
“You were really pale yesterday.”
Cleo didn’t see him yesterday. In fact, the last time she’d seen him was the night of her birthday. Unless…
She raised her brows. “You saw me?”
“Checked on you a few times, but you were sleeping.”
She widened her eyes. “You did?”
Wraith gave a curt nod and shifted his eyes around the counter, glancing down at the pan in her hand. The silence stretched, only adding to her anxiety. She forced a smile and lifted the pan.
“I was going to make lunch. Do you want something?”
He stared back at her and she shifted on her feet.
“You up for a ride?”
Always. Being on the back of a motorcycle had been her happy place.
“Um, sure.”
“Get dressed and be at my bike in five.”
Wait, what?
She rushed to the doorway. “Where are we going?”
Wraith didn’t say a word and disappeared around the corner.
She stood in silence, peering around the empty room. Wraith wanted to take her out?
Yes, now go get dressed!
Cleo quickly ran upstairs. She had no idea where he’d be taking her. Not that it affected her wardrobe much. She changed into jeans, put on her boots, and picked out a cute top. She darted out of her bedroom, grabbing her jacket from the hook near her closet.
Cleo slipped out the back door and rounded the building.
There were about ten bikes parked in a line.
But no members except for Wraith. He glanced over his shoulder, staring.
Where was everybody else? Without knowing exactly where they were going, she wasn’t sure how many guys would join Wraith. They always traveled in pairs.
She mounted the bike and assumed they’d wait on the others.
They didn’t. Wraith took off down the driveway and turned left onto the main road.
There weren’t many local places in Killcreek.
For a brief moment, she considered they might be headed to Lawry.
Her excitement was quickly dashed when he turned onto a country road just before the highway entrance.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but much like most of the brothers, Wraith’s bike was extremely loud.
He’d never hear her anyway. She settled on the bike with her arms looped around his stomach, glancing around the open fields.
There wasn’t much to Killcreek. But the backroads were scenic during certain times of the year.
When he took a sharp turn, Cleo tightened her hold.
She loved riding on the motorcycle, but she wasn’t immune to her tummy flipping on some turns.
Wraith dropped his hand to her leg, and his thumb caressed her calf in a circular motion.
What the… Since her brother’s death, she’d only rode with Wraith.
He’d never, not once, done that before. But I like it.
A lot. Cleo pressed her lips together, ignoring the butterflies swarming her belly.
They rode another fifteen minutes until Wraith slowed down.
She leaned past his shoulder, eyeing the sign.
The bar was halfway between Killcreek and the neighboring town.
She’d driven past it hundreds of times but had never gone inside.
She knew the main section was a bar that served food and the back half was a strip club.
Cleo had heard the guys mention it a few times.
Wraith parked in the front, a few spots away from the only two other trucks in the lot.
She got off the bike, tucked her helmet under her arm, and shook out her hair.
Wraith shut down the engine, kicked up the stand, and swung his leg over the seat.
This view would never get old. He was incredibly sexy and handsome in a harsh and brutish way, but Wraith on his bike with his vest strapped over his wide chest was next level.
She bowed her head slightly, letting her hair fall forward to conceal her blush. Stop staring.
“Come on.”
Cleo glanced around the lot. “Where are the others?”
“Just us.” Wraith opened the door, glancing back as a deep scowl set in. “Let’s go.”
Just the two of them? That was a first.
“Cleo.” Wraith’s jaw squared. “Hungry, right? So get your ass inside.”
This was beyond awkward. She’d been out before with members, including him.
But never just with Wraith. She slipped past him and walked through the door.
It was pretty much what she’d expect from the outside.
There was a large wraparound bar with stools on either side.
There were a bunch of tables scattered around the room with mismatched chairs.
The room had no semblance of order. Everything was wooded, including half the walls.
The décor consisted of mostly bar signs.
Everything was so dated. It was as if it had been built in the seventies, and not one renovation had happened since then.
“Well, she’s way better looking than the usual bastards you bring in here.”
Cleo jerked her head, looking across the room. The bartender was staring at her with a small smile playing on his lips. He was older, probably in his late-fifties, with thin gray hair slicked back and a dark brown beard. The contrast was odd. He braced his arms on the counter and lifted his chin.
“Prospective talent?”
Cleo raised her brows and turned, looking up at Wraith. He hadn’t said a word since they walked in. Cleo knew the back end of the bar was where the strip club was located. Was that what the bartender meant when he said prospective talent?
“You wanna fucking ask that again?” Wraith’s tone sent a tremble down her spine.
The bartender pushed off the bar, held up his hands, and took a step back. “My mistake.”
Wraith grabbed her hand and led her to the bar. She slowly lifted onto the stool and hooked her pocketbook over the back.
The bartender eyed her and placed a cocktail napkin down in front of her. “Since I know Wraith isn’t gonna do it, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Barry.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Cleo.”
He smiled and glanced down at her wrist then furrowed his brows.
“Beer and—” Wraith glanced at her and she straightened her back. The last thing she needed was anymore alcohol.
“Can I have a cola? No ice, please.”
Barry nodded. “Anything to eat?”
“Tell him what you want.” Wraith said.
Oh. She widened her eyes and searched the bar for a menu but found none in sight.
“Well, um—” She paused, nervously smiling at Wraith. “What do they have?”
“Bar food.”
Cleo drew in a breath and laughed. “Technically, this is the first time I’ve been to a bar, so I don’t know what that really means.”
Wraith stared back at her with a bewildered glaze in his eyes. His brows dipped in a tight scowl.
Here he was taking her out to lunch, and she was making everything a spectacle. Embarrassed, she waved her hand. “I’ll just get whatever you’re having.”
Cleo figured it was an easy solution. Apparently, Wraith saw it differently. He turned to Barry.
“Get her a menu.”
Barry snorted. “I haven’t seen one of those in years.”
Wraith’s eyes hardened. “Then start fucking looking.”
Barry sighed, clearly frustrated, and she felt a pang of guilt. The man bent down, sifting through a pile of papers. When he had no luck, he moved down to the edge of the bar. A minute later, he popped back up and placed the menu in front of her.
She scanned it, biting back her amusement. Much like the bar itself, the menu hadn’t been updated either.
“Know what you want?” Wraith asked.
“Can I get a cheeseburger and fries?”