Page 21 of Archer (Dirty Misfits MC 3)
And when she nodded her head, I whisked her away to my bike.
“All right, make sure you hold tight.”
“Yes, you can put your hands there.”
“Grip with your thighs. It’ll help you feel more stable.”
“Lean against me if you need to.”
After feeding her instructions on how to feel more stable on the back of my bike, I handed her a helmet. I slid mine on and connected our Bluetooth headphones just in case I needed to calm her down a bit more, then I struck up the engine of my bike. I revved it a few times, shocking her attention away from her crying. And after she sniffled a few times without any other sobs pouring forth, I eased us onto the road.
Before heading straight for our final destination.
Things were silent between us, but with every mile we put on my bike her crying died down a bit. Her grip got stronger as she clung to me, and I tried my best not to pop a fucking chub against my damn jeans. I had a beautiful woman clinging to me and I wasn’t even going to be sleeping with her. That was a first for me. But it was a first I’d take on with my head held high.
Especially if Josie wanted to get out of this mission alive.
I blazed a trail to my very favorite local destination spot: a beachside cabana with seats that faced the ocean. They served everything from booze to chili-cheese fries, and my stomach growled as we pulled up into the sandy parking lot. And without another word spoken between us, we parked, put ourselves together, and made our way for the cabana.
Where people stared at Josie’s face.
“Fucking hell,” she murmured.
I leaned toward her. “If you’d rather take some things to go, we can go on a walk. Find a nice deserted place on the beach.”
Her eyes grew wide, like a puppy dog. “You’d do that for me?”
A waiter interrupted us. “Uh, h-hi there. Can I—get you guys anything?”
I looked up at him. “Two surf and turf sandwiches with double-fried French fries, some ketchup, some mustard, and two Cokes. All to go.”
The waiter tried not to stare at Josie as he committed our order to memory. “Anything else? Possibly a milkshake or something?”
Josie nodded. “That sounds good. Are there banana milkshakes?”
The waiter nodded. “I can make you one, yes.”
I cleared my throat. “Then, we’ll also take a banana milkshake.”
“But with no whipped cream,” Josie added.
I scoffed. “Blasphemy.”
And when she smiled at me, the stars that had found homes in her eyes sparkled with delight.
She’s beautiful when she smiles.
The waiter scurried away with our order and we hung out with some water another waitress practically tossed in our general direction. They were being incredibly unprofessional, but then again this place had a penchant for hiring teens looking for their first job. They didn’t know how to not stare at some bullshit.
I could tell it made Josie uncomfortable, though.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I said.
Her eyes met mine. “What?”
I shrugged. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Like… what?”
“I don’t know. Your favorite color, for instance.”
She snickered. “Yellow. You?”
I grinned. “Red.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
I held my arms out. “Can’t help that I’m a fiery kinda guy.”
She snorted. “You wish.”
I winked at her. “You wish you knew firsthand, sure.”
She blushed at my words. “Your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“If I play along, you have to answer, too. You know that, right?”
She nodded. “I know. Your turn.”
I drew in a deep breath. “I can’t stand sardines. Brooks loves them on pizza for some reason, but they stink and have a terrible taste.”
She barked with laughter. “I’m the same exact way with olives. Just the texture, and the saltiness. They literally serve no purpose except to raise my blood pressure.”
I snorted as I laughed. “Those are pretty gross. Though, stuffed with cheese, they aren’t that bad.”
“Well, look at you, getting all fancy with them salty balls of yours.”
I smirked. “What can I say? The saltier, the better.”
We went back and forth and laughed our heads off until the waiter came back with our food. Then, I paid him, scooped up our bags of food, and offered Josie my arm. There was a pier a few blocks down the beach that not only looked comfortable with the shade it provided, but it was private. So, we meandered around and sipped our drinks until we got beneath its darkened docks.
Then, things got serious.
“Why were you so adamant about me not doing this?” Josie asked.
I took a massive bite out of my sandwich and chewed slowly. Did I really want to get into this with her? Could she even tolerate the truth? Hell, sometimes I couldn't even tolerate the truth, and I was worried at how she might perceive me once I told her.
