Page 29 of Bear

“The good folks of Uprising can eat me,” she deadpans. “I just don’t want my brothers giving you the ‘touch my little sister and I’ll kick your ass’ speech they give every guy who asks me out.”

“Fair enough. I can handle that.”

“Plus, it’s kind of embarrassing when even I can kick their asses, and they’re threatening big, scary bikers.”

“Exactly how many bikers have they given this speech to?”

“Is there something you wanna ask me, Tennessee?”

“Am I stepping in on someone’s territory by asking you out?”

“Yeah.” She tilts her chin defiantly. “Mine. Let me give you a heads up—I don’t take kindly to that toxic masculinity, alpha male bullshit.”

“The what now?”

“You know what? Maybe dinner is a bad idea. I’m not your property, I’m not gonna ride bitch on the back of your bike, and if I ever wear a patch emblazoned on my jacket, it better damn well say, ‘Property of No one.’”

She shoves the key fob at my chest so I have no choice but to take it, and she stalks off toward the workshop, picking up a monkey wrench and wielding it with such fury that I’m a little afraid for the ’69 Chevy she’s about to work on.

“I’ll see you later, Tink.”

“You two gonna meet up at the Rhythm and Ribs festival tonight?” Bobby Ray comes to stand beside me.

“Bobby Ray,” Jupiter says through her teeth.

“I guess we are.” I smirk and roll my gaze over her pissed off little frame. She’s gripping that monkey wrench like she wants to beat my head in with it. “Just be sure to leave the wrench at home darlin’,” I shout, so all her brothers will hear, but mostly I do it just to piss her off. “Wouldn’t want you to club me over the head and carry me off to your ‘woman cave’ when I ask you to dance.”

Her responding glower follows me all the way across the workshop to my bike where I slide onto the leather seat and start her up, obnoxiously revving the engine until her roar echoes through the shop. I turn and wink at Jupiter before peeling out of the garage.

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