Page 12 of The Biker and His Bride

The door slammed shut again.

We stood in silence, our breath ragged.

“Still sure?” Rogue asked, brushing his thumb along my jaw.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered.

His smile returned, slow and promising. “Good.”

But he didn’t kiss me again.

Not yet.

He just stepped back and said, “Let’s finish closing up.”

And damn if I wasn’t ready to break every rule I’d made for myself just to feel that mouth on mine again.

My life with Caleb in Charleston felt a lifetime in the rearview. I now knew what I’d be missing. Calloused hands felt better than smooth ones. An alpha man sporting a full beard was more refined than smooth skin and satin ties.

6

ROGUE

Ididn’t mean to kiss her.

Hell, maybe I did.

I’d been holding back for weeks. Watching her move behind my bar like she owned it. Watching her laugh with my brothers. Watching her keep her walls up, even when she looked like she wanted to let them fall.

And when I finally kissed her, it was like lighting a match in a gasoline-soaked room.

She burned.

And I burned with her.

But now?

Now I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The way her lips tasted. The way her breath hitched. The way she didn’t pretend it didn’t mean something.

I paced the clubhouse, restless.

The guys were downstairs. The usual noise. The usual bullshit.

But I wasn’t in it.

I was upstairs, staring out the window, wondering what the hell I’d just started.

Because Riley?

She wasn’t like the others.

She didn’t play games. Didn’t chase a patch. Didn’t ask questions she didn’t want the answers to.

She worked hard. Kept to herself. Made the best damn bourbon sour I’d ever had.

And yeah, I was attracted to her.

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