Chapter 6 Keely
Chapter six
Keely
“Wow,” Tarzan rasped when I found him waiting for me at the curb, right on time. His gaze roamed over me from head to toe, drinking me in. “You look fucking incredible.”
I blushed, pleased at his appraisal. Working in the diner, I didn’t have much room for self-expression when it came to my standard uniform. All I could get away with were my pin-up curls and some lipstick and eyeliner.
But on a date, I loved to get dolled up as much as possible.
Tonight, I’d chosen a pink flared skirt with rose buds along the hem, cinched at the waist with a little black belt.
My vintage T-strap heels were pink and white, with little bows on them.
My off-the-shoulder black blouse felt a little scandalous and inviting—exactly the vibes I wanted to convey when I was in Tarzan’s presence.
Some of my previous dates said the way I dressed was too old-fashioned and over-the-top. But that was part of the fun.
“You look pretty damn good, too,” I replied, sliding my arms around his waist.
He greeted me with a long, deep kiss, cupping his warm, strong palm to the back of my neck. I melted against him with a whimper.
“We’d better go,” Tarzan said, breaking away reluctantly. “Otherwise, we’ll never make it to dinner.”
I smiled and hooked my arm through his elbow.
“If I recall correctly, you did make a promise last time we were together. Something about letting me have my wicked way with you.”
Tarzan huffed a laugh, leading me to his truck—a spacious, black king cab with buttery leather seats.
Even though his motorcycle was sexy as hell, I was grateful that I didn’t have to explain how impractical it would be for our date, messing up my clothes and hair that I’d spent so long getting just right.
He opened the door and helped me inside until I was comfortably settled into my seat.
“Trust me,” Tarzan said, leaning in close until I was certain he would kiss me again. “That promise is still on the table, sweetheart.”
A thrill zipped up my spine. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek with a gleam in his eye. Then he pulled away and closed the door, circling around to the driver’s side.
On a Sunday evening, the Old Spruce Pub hummed with activity. Tarzan and I had a table tucked into the corner, private and cozy. When we were seated, browsing our menus, he reached over, grabbed the leg of my chair, and slid me closer until we were pressed thigh to thigh.
“That’s better.” He swept a lock of my hair aside and brushed a kiss to my neck. A shiver rippled down my spine as my eyes fluttered closed. “Can’t stand it when you’re seated on the other side of the table. It’s too far away.”
“Then why don’t we cut to the chase?” I offered. “I could sit in your lap instead.”
Tarzan arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”
I propped my elbow on the table and leaned in, knowing the position would plump up my cleavage even more. Sure enough, Tarzan’s gaze dropped to my breasts and his breath hitched.
“Do you really want me to stop tempting you?” I asked with a coy smile.
Tarzan cleared his throat and shook his head. He slipped a hand under the table, tugging at the front of his pants for some relief.
“You’re a goddamn tease.”
Now it was my turn to kiss his neck. His skin was scorching hot against my lips, and his masculine cologne filled my lungs when I breathed him in.
“I enjoy seeing a big guy like you so turned on that he can’t think straight.”
“Fuck,” Tarzan exhaled. Before he could say anything more, his phone rang. He grimaced apologetically. “Hold that thought.”
Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he glanced at the screen with annoyance. Then he shook his head, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“Pesky little brothers have a knack for knowing when to interrupt at the worst possible moment.”
I laughed. “It’s Teddy, right? When do I get to meet him?”
“Later. I’m not sharing you tonight.”
I liked the sound of that. When I started to reply, Tarzan’s phone rang again. He closed his eyes and heaved a tired sigh.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
But this time when he pulled out his phone, a shadow of concern darkened his eyes. He answered it quickly.
“What’s wrong?”
I heard a muffled male voice on the other end of the line, too indistinct to make out. But his response was short and to the point. Then Tarzan was on his feet, grabbing my hand.
“We have to go,” he said. “Now.”
I sputtered, blindsided at his abrupt change.
“What? What’s going on?”
Tarzan clenched his jaw, resting his hand protectively on my lower back.
“It’s my brother. He’s been shot.”
My mind reeled with that information. Of all the explanations Tarzan could have provided, that was nowhere near anything I had expected to hear.
“Wh-what? Is he okay?”
Tarzan said nothing as he ushered me to his truck. Taking me by the waist, he hoisted me into the passenger seat as if I was light as a feather. His gaze was distant, unfocused, too preoccupied with worry over his brother.
“Tarzan,” I said firmly.
He paused with his hand on the door, dragging his gaze up to my face.
“Your brother,” I repeated. “Is he okay?”
Tarzan shook his head. “I don’t know.”
My heart lurched with sympathy at the tortured note in his voice. I felt helpless, fumbling to figure out a way to ease his worry.
Tarzan remained grim and silent as he drove, pushing the speed limit. To my surprise, we flew by the hospital and parked outside a biker bar instead. A glowing neon sign in the window read, Reckless Order MC.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, confused.
“I’ll explain everything soon, I promise,” Tarzan replied. “But for now, we need to get inside. I can’t leave you out here alone.”
Bewildered, I let Tarzan thread his fingers with mind, leading me through the front door of the bar. This was not how I thought our first date would go tonight.
Bikers milled around the room, clustered in groups talking. A restless energy lingered in the air.
An older man approached, with salt-and-pepper hair. The patch on his jacket read, Vice President.
“Ironside,” Tarzan said with a nod of greeting. “Thank you for calling and looking after my brother. Where is he?”
“In the back,” Ironside said, gesturing down a nearby corridor. “Seven is taking care of him. He’s in good hands. Seven has the prettiest stitches I’ve ever seen.”
“And what about the bastard who shot Teddy?” Tarzan replied. “Do you have him?”
Ironside flicked his gaze past Tarzan’s shoulder and settled on me. His silence suggested he didn’t seem inclined to answer that question in my presence.
And suddenly, I felt unwelcome, sticking out like a sore thumb in my pink skirt and heels, while everyone else had jeans, black leather, and tattoos.
Then a voice emanated from the corridor.
“I said I’m fine. God, stop fussing over me like a fucking mother hen, for Christ’s sake. You’re just as bad as my big brother.”
A man stumbled into view a moment later, and there was no denying that this must be Teddy. He had the same dark blue eyes as Tarzan, the same wavy blond hair even though he kept it trimmed short. His shirt was rucked up over his hip, revealing a taped bandage against his side.
Teddy ground to a stop at the sight of Tarzan.
“Speak of the devil.”
“What the hell are you doing on your feet, you idiot?” Tarzan growled.
Teddy rolled his eyes.
“And here we go again. I knew you would be nagging the hell out of me—”
He broke off, swaying so far to one side that it was a miracle he remained upright. Tarzan strode across the room in an instant, catching Teddy by the arm. He eased Teddy into a nearby chair and leaned over him.
“Why the fuck didn’t you go to the hospital? Ironside said you refused.”
Teddy scowled. “I hate them. You know that. Full of puke and disease and death. And I am not dying today.”
Tarzan inhaled a breath of infinite patience and let it out slowly.
“Tell me what happened.”
Teddy blinked and his chin bobbed toward his chest as he struggled to stay conscious.
“Some fucker took a shot at me,” he said. “In my own house. I ran him down. Managed to catch him. Turns out, he’s a Filthy Rebel. And you wanna hear the part that pisses me off the most?”
Tarzan waited with a shadow darkening his expression. It was so deadly quiet in the bar that I could have heard a pin drop.
“He said I wasn’t the target,” Teddy added. “He wanted a Prospect. Not a patched member.”
That muscle jumped in Tarzan’s jaw again.
“So, he was aiming for me. Not you.”
“Exactly,” Teddy said. “I don’t like it when someone goes after my big brother. Especially when he’s supposed to be enjoying his date—”
He stopped as understanding dawned on his face. Sitting up with a wince, he glanced at me and his face brightened.
“Hey, you brought Cherry along,” he said, his voice a dry rasp. “No wonder you’re obsessed, brother. She’s cute.”
My cheeks heated. Tarzan glanced over his shoulder at me and his eyes softened. He thumped his fist lightly against Teddy’s chest.
“Stay there,” he said sternly. “And don’t move. Or you run the risk of ripping open your stitches.”
“Bossy pants,” Teddy groused good-naturedly.
Tarzan ruffled his hair. “Dumbass,” he replied, affectionately.
A small smile touched my lips. They clearly cared for each other in their own way. It made me jealous to see their bond, wishing I could have had a brother or sister like that.
Tarzan crossed the room to my side, cupping my elbow.
“You have so much explaining to do,” I whispered.
“I know,” he replied gently. “We can talk after I get Teddy settled.”
He gestured to a woman behind the bar, about my age. Her long, glossy black hair was tipped in electric purple. She wore a sheer black crop top, with a lacy dragon twisting along the front, paired with a dark red bra underneath.
“Keely, this is Lila,” Tarzan said. “She’s the club President’s daughter. If anyone gives you shit for being here—which they shouldn’t—Lila will rip ‘em a new one.”
Lila pulled up a chair and dropped into it, crossing her arms with a smirk.
“Most of these shitheads have been around since I was a kid. All you have to do is bully them a little and they love you for it.”
“Oh, well, that’s…that’s not really my style,” I fumbled.
“Love your dress by the way,” she said. “It’s very vintage chic.”
I beamed at the compliment. “Thank you! I love your top. I’ve never had the guts to wear anything sheer before but I’ve always wanted to try it.”
Lila made a noise of disbelief. “Are you kidding? With your curves? You would look incredible.”
I smoothed my hands over the fabric of my skirt, pleasantly flustered at her compliment. Despite my initial impression of her intimidating badass attitude, she seemed easy to get along with, and I could imagine us becoming friends in no time at all.
Tarzan delivered a final parting squeeze of comfort to my shoulder. Then he returned his attention to his brother, guiding Teddy back down the corridor again.
“So,” Lila said. “Judging by the utterly horrified look on your face, I’d say that Tarzan has told you jack squat about the Reckless Order.”
I shook my head. “We just went on our first date tonight.”
She clucked her tongue. “That’s sweet. Well, I’ll let you in on a secret about shacking up with a biker. They’re crazy good in bed, but they will turn your life upside down and shake it like a motherfucking snowglobe. Fair warning.”
I blew out a breath. “Yeah. I’m beginning to see that.”