Barely Undercover (10 page)

Cheers and shouts drew James’s attention to a group clustered around the picnic tables. Bones held up Kickstand’s club jacket and Punch sat astride Kickstand’s motorcycle with a can of spray paint in his hand. Kickstand had spent every penny of his savings to buy the Harley Sportster when he was accepted as a prospect and his agitation was clear on his face.

“Didn’t guard your stuff so now you gotta choose,” Bones yelled over the cheers of the crowd. Prospect hazing was one of the club’s favorite activities and Kickstand was as green as they got.

“He doesn’t understand it’s a test,” Lana murmured, half to herself. “Someone needs to tell him there’s nothing worse than losing his colors. If he loses the jacket, he won’t need the motorcycle.”

“How do you know that?”

Lana startled and looked away. “Probably something I saw on television.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Aren’t you going to help him?”

“Not my place,” James said. “If he doesn’t know the rules, he shouldn’t be in the club.”

“He’s a good guy.” Lana tried to shove him off his seat and James raised a cool eyebrow.

“They don’t need good guys. They need tough guys. And if you want to get me off this seat, babe, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

Lana pressed her lips together and her eyes glittered. “Are you sure you want to challenge me? It’ll be pretty damn embarrassing for you when I knock your sorry ass off that stool and onto the ground.”

James thumped his beer bottle on the bar counter and folded his arms. Even if she did get him off the stool, seeing her sparkle instead of her fear would be worth every second of the ribbing he would suffer from the brothers. “Go for it, babe. I guarantee you won’t get me off the stool and I won’t even need to use my hands.”

“I am
so
going to enjoy this,” Lana growled as she stepped back to assess the stool.

“One minute warning,” Bones yelled at Kickstand. “Make your decision.”

Lana glanced up again and her mouth tightened. “Your humiliation will have to wait. I can’t let them take his colors.” She reached over the bar and grabbed a beer.

“Give the guy a break,” she yelled at Bones. “A man can’t make an important decision without a beer in his hand.” She pushed her way through the crowd and handed Kickstand the bottle. A few minutes later she was back at James’s side.

Kickstand stared at the bottle. Then he took a swig of his beer. Color returned to his cheeks. He perched himself on the edge of the picnic table and leaned a casual elbow on his thigh. Then he looked over at Lana and winked.

“What did you say to him?” James murmured.

A smile ghosted Lana’s lips. “Nothing.”

Tally started the countdown, but before she reached ten seconds, Kickstand eased himself off the table, held up a hand and snapped his fingers at Bones with all the bravado of a full-patch brother.

“Colors.”

The bikers roared their approval. Bones tossed him the jacket. Punch gave Kickstand a salute and threw the spray paint in the trash can. Kickstand staggered back in relief and downed the rest of his beer. Then he turned and grinned at Lana.

“Like I said before, you have a soft heart, Lana Parker.” James leaned over on his stool to whisper in her ear. “How did you know he would get the hint?”

She tilted her head to the side and shrugged as her hand slid down the stool behind James’s back. Did she think he hadn’t noticed?

“We were talking about beer the other night when he walked me to my car. He said he’d never seen a more colorful label than on the Lost Coast Downtown Brown he’d had at Hades. He also said being part of the club meant everything to him.”

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a puppy now.” James jerked his chin toward a wide-eyed Kickstand hovering just out of earshot. “That’s the problem with feeding strays.”

“And this is the problem with making bets with me.” She yanked the stool out from under him with a vicious jerk. James jumped easily to his feet and laughed, his mirth increasing as a grin spread across her face.

“Come on, babe. I saw that one coming a mile away.”

Without thinking, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her, a long, deep, laughing kiss that tugged at his soul. His laughter died away as desire flamed through him.

Lana trembled in his arms and he released her lips, exhaling his disappointment as a tiny frown creased her brow. Then her hands smoothed slowly over his chest and she smiled.

“When did you suddenly become Mr. Spontaneity?”

“Since a beautiful redhead thought she’d knock me off my stool and conceded her defeat with a dazzling smile.”

Her laughter ignited something deep inside him. He swept his arms around her, pulling her fully against his body, capturing her mouth with his. Two years of regret fueled his fire, and he claimed her in a deep, hungry kiss. Her soft body molded to his, her hands tangling through his hair. She tasted of whiskey and she smelled of sunshine, and he didn’t give a damn that they’d become the next show.

“Can I get you a beer, Roxie? You need a burger?” Kickstand shifted from foot to foot, desperate to please and blissfully unaware of how close his interruption had brought him to death.

James tore his mouth from Lana and gazed down at her as she gasped in a breath.

Christ. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed and her eyes half-closed with passion. His cock pressed painfully against his fly, and it took all his effort to tear his gaze away.

“Fuck, Kickstand. Don’t you have somewhere…?”

Lana cut him off. “Thanks, Kickstand,” she said, breathlessly. “I’m good. I’ll let you know if I need something.”

“I’ll tell you what you need.” Tally came up behind Lana and slid an arm around her waist, drawing her away. “You need to come and meet the other old ladies. After that little display of tongue gymnastics, we want to know all about you and Ice.”

James made a move to follow them and Tally glared. “Girls only.”

“I’ll be okay.” Lana brushed her soft lips over his cheek and gave him a half smile. “For some reason, I’m not afraid anymore.”

Squaring his shoulders against the pulse of want still raging through his body, he leaned in and whispered, “I promised to stay with you. I don’t go back on my word, even if it means spending an hour listening to hen talk.”

Lana snorted a laugh and her eyes sparkled. “Hen talk. Nice. Very chauvinistic and fitting with your new persona. I’ll add that to the list of misdeeds for which I’ll be knocking you off your stool later.”

James pressed his lips together until she was out of sight and then allowed himself the luxury of laughter.

“Kickstand.” James motioned the starstruck prospect over to the bar with a sharp jerk of his hand.

“Sir?” Kickstand almost flew across the patio to get to James’s side.

“Keep an eye on Roxie for me. But don’t let her know you’re there. She doesn’t know the clubhouse. I don’t want her getting lost.”

A grin split Kickstand’s face. “Yes, sir.”

James grabbed two bottles of beer and joined Ryder under a tree within view of the main door.

“You can relax.” Ryder took one of the bottles from James. “I’m looking out for her like she’s my own and now you’ve got Kickstand licking at her heels. Rex won’t get near her.”

“Don’t know what’s up with Rex,” James said. “He knows he’ll lose respect if he messes around with my old lady. It’ll kill his leadership as fast as a bullet to the heart.”

Ryder took a swig of his beer. “Bullet to the heart doesn’t always kill. Seen a guy survive it once, but it wasn’t pretty.”

James gave him a sideways glance. Ryder had often hinted about a dark and troubled past, but he’d never talked about it and James respected his need for privacy.

Gravel crunched under heavy boots, and Bones and Diesel joined them in the shade.

“How did the weapons move go?” Bones stared at James unblinking and then flicked his gaze to Ryder.

“I couldn’t believe the arsenal in that old guy’s trailer,” Ryder said. “Punch’s dad has got to be at least eighty but cool as ice. He unloaded machine guns, grenades and automatic weapons from the storage compartment under the bunk beds his grandkids sleep on when they come to visit and threw in a teddy bear for free.”

James gave a thin laugh. “Hell yeah. I thought we were going to pick up a couple of pistols, not three hockey bags worth of weapons. And those grenades…when he tossed one to us I thought it was all over. I told…”

Bones cut him off. “Where did you hide the weapons?”

James’s blood chilled. As he had expected, the DEU had confiscated the weapons as soon as Ryder drove away, leaving him with three hockey bags full of dick-all and a ticket to an early grave.

“Friend of mine,” he lied. “He’s a trucker. Lives alone. Has no problem keeping stuff for a fee.”

Part two of his plan was to stall when Rex asked for the weapons by saying his friend was out on a job and not due back for however long he expected it to take to think up a new excuse or get the hell out of town.

“Convenient.” Bones’s eyes narrowed and they locked gazes for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, Diesel asked Bones a question, drawing Bones’s attention away.

Sweat trickled down James’s back. He knew Bones was suspicious, but he hadn’t anticipated him coming this close to an outright confrontation. If he wasn’t careful, he might wind up being the one with a bullet in his heart.

“Anyone seen Rex?” James asked. “He hasn’t been around this afternoon. Not like him to miss out on a party.”

Diesel frowned. “He was getting his chopper serviced this morning. Maybe he got held up.”

“I thought I saw him in his office.” Bones tossed his beer bottle in the trash. “And he wasn’t alone.”

Rex was inside. And so was Lana. Anxiety ratcheted through James and he shot Ryder a worried glance.

“I’m going to get another case of beer from the kitchen,” James stepped away from the group. “Looks like Dawg is running low.”

“Think I’ll join you.” Ryder clapped a hand on his shoulder and lowered his voice to a hushed murmur. “Can’t let you go hunting for trouble alone, and I had something to ask you before we were interrupted.”

They crossed the patio to the clubhouse. James pushed open the door and paused to let his eyes adjust to the low light.

“I’m leaving in a couple of weeks.” Ryder kept his voice so low James could barely hear him. “I’m taking ten guys and starting a new club. We’re going to run it clean. No drugs. No gun running. No serious illegal activity except for some vigilantism, the odd beating—but only guys who deserve it—and we might misappropriate goods, but only from those who stole first. There’s no one I would rather have riding beside me than you.”

Nausea roiled in James’s gut.
Damn
. He’d known this was coming, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Ryder had butted heads with Rex so many times no one would be surprised to see him go, but taking ten brothers with him turned his defection into a rebellion. And James couldn’t afford to be in the middle.

“I’m honored. Let me think about it. Kinda preoccupied right now.”

Ryder nodded. “Take all the time you need, but I’m gonna keep riding you until you say yes.”

“That why they call you Ryder?”

The door slammed closed behind them and they walked through the workout area toward the lounge.

“My name is a whole different story,” Ryder said with a grin. “The day you ride up to my new clubhouse is the day you get to hear it.”

As they crossed the lounge, Tally and the girls headed toward them. No Lana. A chill wound its way up James’s spine. He called Tally over and she left the group to join him.

“You seen Roxie?”

Tally shrugged. “She skipped out to the restroom when we started doing each other’s nails. Didn’t come back. I thought she was with you.”

“What about Kickstand?”

Tally shook her head. “Haven’t seen him either.”

James’s heart pounded against his rib cage. He should never have let her go in alone. He had made her a promise—to keep her safe—and he had spent the last half hour drinking beer and shooting the breeze while she was alone inside with Rex. Dammit. He just couldn’t do right by her.

“We’ll find her,” Ryder said, his face tight. “She might have got lost.”

“She might have got caught.”

“If she did, make sure you leave a piece of him for me.”

Chapter Eight

Crap.

Crap. Crap. Double crap
.

A shiver of fear slithered up Lana’s spine as she watched Rex strip off Portia’s clothes. Why hadn’t she just stayed in the doorway to get the pictures? Why had she felt it necessary to creep into Rex’s office? Her new lipstick camera had a zoom. Jackie could have blown up the pictures. She could have taken a few snaps of them lip-locked together and gone back to the party.

But no. Stupid Lana had to try for a better shot. Clumsy Lana had tripped. Terrified Lana had dived into the storage locker reeking of Rex’s unwashed gym clothes. And now, Peeping Lana had a front-row seat to a show she did not want to see.

A fully clothed Rex lifted a naked Portia and settled her on his desk. He barked a few words and she parted her legs and leaned back on her hands. Lana’s stomach clenched. Voyeurism was so not her thing.