Page 40 of Spinner's Luck

A hardened biker who worked with his hands. A man who cared for living things. That alone set him apart.

I turned my gaze back to the water, my mind circling back to the club. These men were different, sure, but they weren’t boy scouts. My research told me that much. They rode the edge of the law, sometimes crossed it, but never in ways that hurt the innocent. From everything Oliver and I had dug up, they stuck to a code—one that, if I was being honest, I could respect.

The thought of Oliver sent a pang through me. I needed to check in before he started to worry. We couldn’t afford that since Oliver would start looking for me and that might get him killed.

I turned and started back down the dock, my shoes thudding against the old planks. Two burner phones were stashed around the clubhouse, hidden where no one would think to look. I wasn’t stupid—I knew they’d search my car, so I’d taken precautions.

Damn glad I had.

Keeping me here might’ve been partly for my protection, but it was also a clear sign they didn’t trust me. That much had been obvious today. And if there was one thing I’d learned the hard way, it was this—

Never fully trust anyone.

Always have a backup plan. Always be ready to run.

This girl doesn’t get caught flat-footed.

Not anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY

LUCY SAT ACROSSfrom me at one of the round tablesin the bar area, her laugh slicing through the noise of clinking glasses and rowdy voices like a whisper meant just for me, impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just a sound—it was a force, pulling me in, making the rest of the room blur. She had that effortless magnetism, the kind that turned heads without trying.

Whenever I was with Lucy, my spinner stayed in my pocket. No restless hands, no need to ground myself. She was the anchor.

“I’m serious,” she said, still catching her breath between bursts of laughter, her cheeks flushed from either whiskey or the pure energy she radiated. “You cannot tell me you haven’t built a woman out of Legos. Come on, Spinner.”

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossing, lips twitching. “What if I have?”

Her eyes widened, a wicked gleam flashing across them. “Oh, you have!”

“Maybe.” I shrugged, doing my best to play it serious, but her laughter made it impossible to keep a straight face.

“You’re ridiculous.” She shook her head, still grinning, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip just enough to make my thoughts go to dangerous places.

“You’re the one that brought it up.” My smirk widened. “Pretty sure that makes you the ridiculous one.”

She leaned forward, her elbow on the table, chin resting on her hand as she studied me with that mischievous glint—the one that had me on edge in all the best ways. Like she was always one second away from starting trouble, and I’d happily be the bastard to chase her into it.

“You know what I think?”

I lifted a brow. “What’s that?”

“I bet underneath all that leather and ink, you’re nothing but a closet romantic.” Her voice was teasing, but there was something softer beneath it, something that made my chest go tight.

I snorted, shaking my head. “Yeah? And what’s got you thinkin’ that?”

She smirked, tilting her head like she had me all figured out. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you’re looking at me like I’m the best damn thing to ever walk into your life.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Maybe you’re just seein’ what you want to see.”

“Am I?” she asked, raising a brow, eyes full of mischief.

I leaned in just enough to watch her breath catch. “You keep talkin’, and you’re gonna find out exactly what’s under all this leather.”

Her grin deepened, and she held up a hand, mock-serious. “Alright, alright. No need to prove a point. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Everything about her was effortless, natural—like she’d always been meant to be here, across from me, wrapped up in this club life that should’ve sent her running. I hadn’t planned on this pull between us, hadn’t known for sure if I wanted it, but every damn day it got stronger.

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