Page 9 of Bronco

I gape at him as he drops down on his knees, folding his arms behind his head before the cops even reach him. “Are you actually insane?” I scream, moving toward him.

He grins. “Not like they’re gonna try that again anytime soon, right?”

I’ve never had a man defend my honor before, it’s a new experience. Even if he did go a little postal on their asses, being chased by two drunk men isn’t exactly cool behavior.

“You’re getting arrested for me?” I cry, my voice an octave too high. Panic runs through me as I try not to hyperventilate.I’ve never seen anything like that, and if I wasn’t so shocked, I might be a little impressed.

He doesn’t even have a mark on him, though his knuckles look red and a little swollen. He grins at me, his face showing absolutely no remorse. “Not just for you, for women everywhere.”

I think I just died a little bit right there on the pavement. I watch in horror as the cops tug his arms behind him and slap cuffs on his wrists. He doesn’t protest or say anything, but the two sprawled out men by their feet are indication enough of what he did.

“He didn’t do anything!” I tell the police. “These guys were following me all the way up the street and making me feel uncomfortable. I had to make a run for it.”

“Ma’am, you can make a statement downtown,” one of the cops says, then barks something into his receiver as I glance at Bronco. He’s not giving them a lick of trouble, but once they see his MC patch they call for backup. Typical.

“Call one of the girls,” he repeats. “Can’t leave my sled here all night.”

“Got it, Bronc.” I pull my phone out and with shaky fingers I call Luna, who’s Tag’s — the club’s Sergeant at Arm’s — ol’ lady.

I think I’ve had just about all the dating that I can stand.

Bronco rubs his wrists as we walk out of the station. Of course the club has a lawyer, Payden, who’s friends with Luna and helps the MC out from time to time. I used to think the two of them had something going on, but then Payden got a boyfriend, putting that rumor to bed.

He whistles a tune like nothing has happened. Like he wasn’t just in jail for beating up two people, and essentially defending me.

“That was intense,” I say, feeling guilty that he’ll have a criminal record if the charges go ahead. I explained to the cops what was going on, and once the two miscreants are treated at the hospital, they’ll be able to make a statement, too. I won’t hold my breath that anything will happen to them. The police don’t usually do anything until it’s too late.

“It wasn’t nearly as intense as it could’ve been.” He smiles when he sees his beloved motorcycle parked out front. “Which motherfucker drove my sled?”

“Pipes was the only one free,” I say, even though he’s not technically a prospect anymore, he’s the most trustworthy out of the members who don’t sit around the committee table.

“Not pissed about that.”

“He said as much.”

He glances down at my dress. “You gonna get on my sled in that?”

I glance down at myself. “I didn’t think I’d be hopping on the back of your motorcycle tonight, did I?”

The cops let me ride with them to the station but now I need to get home.

“Clearly.” He rubs his chin. “You look pretty in red, it suits you.”

I balk. “Uh, thanks?”

“Why do you say it like it’s a question?”

“Um, probably because you’ve never said anything like that to me before.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought it.”

“I guess not.” I shift awkwardly.

“So, you gonna hitch that skirt up, or want me to do the honors?” He smirks.

I slap his arm. “How long have you been waiting to ask me that?”

I like the sound of his laughter, his eyes creasing at the corners as he waves his palms at me. “Fine. You do it yourself, but don’t blame me when that pretty skirt gets ripped. Skintight and motorcycles don’t exactly mix well.”

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