Page 2 of Pearl

Holy fuck.

Sure, she’s mentioned him a few times; that he was moving here in a couple of weeks. I guess he arrived early or something, but I didn’t pay attention.The reason for that was my best friend’s dad is not supposed to look like this fine specimen.

We shake hands. When my powers of speech and scrambled brain don’t catch up—dumbly, I don’t offer my name in return—Decker asks, “And you are?” His eyes dip to the patch on my cut.

Stiletto Riders MC, where it clearly has my name and the word “Secretary” underneath.

I keep the books in order for the club, and take the minutes of each meeting.

“Oh, shoot, sorry, I’m Pearl.” Our hands are still touching. “I’m Phoebe’s best fr—” I add at the same time he says,: “Best friend.”

He smiles. I laugh, albeit a little sheepishly because, hello, I just got caught checking him out. I let go of his hand, noting how big and warm it is.

“Apologies, Mr. Sterling. Phoebe told me you weren’t coming for a few weeks.” I don’t know why I say that. It’s like my brain has blinked offline. Intellectual thinking has evaded me.

“Well, here I am. And, please, call me Decker. Mr. Sterling makes me sound like an old man.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man his age look this good. In fact, I know I haven’t. I’m thirty-four, and he’d have to have twenty years on me. At least. He’s Phoebe’s dad, for heaven’s sake…

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Okay, I can speak like a normal person. Bravo. “I’ve heard so much about you from Phoebe. She’s been really excited about you moving back.”

“I’m happy to be here.” He thumbs behind him. “Takin’ over the farm from Old Man Peters worked out nicely. Got a cabin on the property, and I get to see Phoebe and my granddaughter whenever I want.”

Granddaughter, I tell myself. Let that sink in. You just fucking checked out a grandpa!

“Oh, that’s all I’ve heard for the last month and a half,” I tell him with a smile. “Kayla is very excited to have you around. She’s been telling us nonstop.”

“She’s a good kid.” He chuckles, running a hand through his damp hair.

I’m the queen of putting my foot in it, but I think I’m getting away with this. The Stilettos call me the peacemaker because I always try to look on the bright side of things. I don’t like arguments and I’m eager to solve problems without violence. If I can help someone out who needs it, I will. Don’t get me wrong, I can stand up for myself when the time calls for it.

My café, Saddle Hop, is one of the busiest eateries in town. We serve all-day lunch, afternoon tea, and we have the best coffee and pastries this side of Texas.

“Well, I just stopped by to drop off the dirty softball uniforms,” I say, gesturing with my head toward my truck. “My washer broke, and I thought Phoebe would be home. I should’ve called.”

“Let me help you bring them in.” It’s not even a question, and I watch with slight wonder as he slings the ax into the large chopping block, wiping the sweat from his brow.

My panties are wet and ready to fly away.

Get a fucking hold of yourself! It’s Phoebe’s dad! You and she are the same age. He could be your father, too!

I blow out a slow exhale as he lifts his gaze to meet mine, and I smile mechanically. “Oh, it’s fine, really⁠—”

“Nonsense, can’t have you haulin’ stuff around while I’m doing chores that can wait.” He starts for my truck, and I follow behind him. “So, you ride with the Stilettos?”

“Yes.” I swallow, trying to think of something else to say that doesn’t sound ridiculous. Saddle is a small town. I’m not used to having hot, half-naked men thrust in my face. “I’ve been with the club for about a decade, actually. I run Saddle Hop, the local café.”

He turns to give me a shit-eating grin. “I’ve heard you make the best sandwiches in East Texas.”

“I have to admit, they have won awards.” I shrug, playing it cool. “You should stop by and try the turkey cranberry.”

Oh, dear. Now it sounds like I’m fucking hitting on the poor man. I bet he’s just thrilled that I barged in on him.

“I might just do that.”

At least he didn’t tell me to grab a ticket and get in line. The Decker Sterling Show is on full display.

Then I think about all the women in town who are gonna be salivating over him. Those razor-sharp claws are gonna be all over him in an instant. Come to think of it, in the five years I’ve known Phoebe, I’ve never met her dad. All I know is he used to work away on an oil rig. The times he’s been back, our paths never seemed to have crossed. I’m sure as shit kicking myself now.