CHAPTER FOUR #3
It’s clear she’s considering it, but before she can accept, Jax says goodbye and makes his way to his Yamaha motorcycle—which he bought as soon as we entered the city. The rest of us came in a Range Rover and a Bentley because it’s still kind of chilly and Tessa won’t ride in the cooler temps.
With Mercy expecting, it wouldn’t have been an option for all of us anyway. Ryker can barely tolerate the risk of Mercy glancing at a motorcycle while pregnant. The man is a galaxy past overprotective.
Zara hands Sylvie a piece of paper and pulls her in for a hug. I can’t make out their exchange, but I’m starting to think bringing my family with me was genius. Sylvie is warming up to them, which means she won’t be so standoffish with me.
She politely tells them it was lovely to meet them, shares a quick back-and-forth with Mercy and Tessa, and spins, patting my chest. “This was really sweet. Thanks.” Her eyes dart to the parking lot and back to me. “I need to talk to your brother about something.”
I assume she means Axel since he offered La Lune Noire services, but I don’t have a chance to verify before she rushes toward a different brother.
Jax.
What. The. Fuck?
I’m about to chase after her when Maddox holds me back.
“Give it a second and let this play out. You’ve got women all over you because you’ve never given a fuck. And while I wouldn’t tell you to lean into that here, I also don’t think you should smother the girl.”
“And if Tessa had made a play for one of us?”
“Are you claiming this is comparable to what I have with Tessa?” he retorts with the grin of a lunatic.
“Fuck no,” I spit. “All I meant was, you wouldn’t have stood back and watched.”
“True.” He gauges the hushed conversation that has my skin itchy. “But I would’ve intervened at the proper time. And this … isn’t it. She could be asking him anything.”
As anything tumbles from his mouth, Sylvie puts Jax’s fucking helmet on, and I fume.
“Yeah, fuck that.” Maddox smacks my back. “Now’s good.”
By the time I’m over there, Sylvie is on the bike, engine revved and her visor flipped up on the helmet. “I’ll be sure to spread the word that you deliver decent crème br?lée, but I don’t take rides from strangers, Noire.”
And then she’s gone, zooming through the half-empty parking lot until she’s nothing but exhaust fumes.
Scratch that.
She makes an abrupt stop, balancing the bike on the front tire and swinging the back end around so she’s facing this direction.
In the next restless breath, she drops the back, accelerates toward a wide-open section of the lot near us, and stands on the seat while doing a fucking wheelie, one leg stretched behind her like a damn ballerina.
Cheers and whoops abound for her daring stunt, trumping her roaring motor.
Christ Almighty. Where the hell did this girl come from? Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Rubbing my jaw in utter astonishment, I watch her drop to both wheels, wave a triumphant hand, and vanish before I finally turn to Jax. “She took your bike, man.”
“Nah, she offered”—he stalls there while I practically pull my hair out with the need to hear what the goddamn offer was and he gathers his fucking thoughts—“to buy it. I told her I knew she was good for it.”
“That was one hell of a wheelie,” Tessa muses, which is when it becomes clear the entire family is gaping at the disappearing bandit. “I think it was a metaphor for a middle finger. I really like her.”
“It so was. Did you take Sylvie’s pen too?” Zara taunts, poorly masking her glee at my expense.
I scoff, still in disbelief. “There’s no point in impressing a girl with sleight of hand who would see it coming from a mile away and run with it.”
“Exactly.” Ryker sidles up beside me, his face aglow, like the fucker’s been praying to the gods for this precise moment. “Your usual game isn’t gonna get her number. But when you figure out what does, you’d better marry that girl.”
“Marry her?” I thrust my hand in the direction that she vanished. “She’d end up fucking killing me. I’ve never worked this hard for anything, let alone just for someone to finish a goddamn conversation.”
They don’t even attempt to hide their humor, so I stalk toward the Bentley.
“I’m glad you’re all enjoying yourselves. I’m sure you see this as karma or some shit. Just remember, you three wouldn’t be married if it wasn’t for me.”
That doesn’t squash their amusement, but Axel and Maddox know my meddling pranks sent their girls into their arms.
Ryker fails to see my logic. “How the hell do you figure?”
“I’m too young for Mercy to have considered me as an option, thereby leaving that twenty-year runway wide open for you to crawl to your finish line.”
That effectively takes some of the heat off me and diverts the heckling to the most intense Noire. Not even Mercy lets him off the hook.
I open my door as Jax makes it to the passenger side, and I address the rest of them over the roof. “I’ll meet you at the airfield.”
Axel presses the key fob for the Range Rover, the beep splitting the night. “Will we be invited to the next date you crash?”
“No.”
“But you will be tracking her down again,” Mercy sings.
Like my life depends on it.