Page 33 of The Biker's Brother

To the guy who’d just come in, he said, “Sorry, man. Last room’s gone.”

“But the sign…” The clerk switched the neon sign to NO VACANCY. “Try Morgansville. Maybe they have something.”

“Morgansville?” The latecomer frowned. “How far is that?”

“Twenty-two miles north. Turn left at the first light. That’s Highway 429.”

Cami almost felt sorry enough for the guy to offer him a spot on the floor of their room.

“Where can we get something to eat?” Brandon asked.

“The Golden Griddle should be open for your dining pleasure. Three blocks down on the left. Next to the bank.”

“Golden Griddle,” Cami said drily.

Brandon took the key then took Cami by the elbow and ushered her out. “Were you expecting pho or a hummus bar?”

She groaned and the sound caused Brandon’s cock to twitch. “Don’t tease me like that.”

When they got back in the car, Brandon said, “Okay. Here are the choices. We can go to Golden Griddle, sit down and eat, then come back to the motel and get dry. Or we can go to Golden Griddle, get to go, then come back to the motel, get dry, and eat in the room.”

“Door number two.”

He nodded and started the car.

Golden Griddle was open for business and they did get sopping wet, again.

When a concerned-looking woman approached them, Brandon said, “Can we get dinner to go?”

“Sure can,” she said cheerfully. She handed them both menus.

“What’s fast?” he asked.

“Most anything except steak,” she said.

Brandon turned to Cami and repeated, “Most anything except steak,” as if that was news and she was hard of hearing. His lips twitched at the corners when she made a face.

They sat on a vinyl bench and waited for club sandwiches, waffle fries, strawberry cheesecake.

The food was packed in Styrofoam containers, inside paper sacks, inside plastic bags.

“I put plastic bags around this so it won’t get wet and soggy. Plastic ware and napkins are inside.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” Brandon said as he took the bags from her.

Brandon backed the SUV up so that the hatch back was right in front of their door. When the hatch was lifted it provided a sheltering bridge between the car and the porch overhang. That meant the luggage made it into the room without getting wet.

It was the usual motel setup. Bed. Two nightstands. Desk. Chair. TV. Seventies décor that had needed updating for thirty-five years. Or more. Everything within was old and tired, but on inspection, it seemed reasonably clean.

Cami began rifling through one of her bags.

“Shower before food and I claim it first.”

“Okay, but hurry up. I’m liking the idea of some hot water myself.”

She waved a hand by her shoulder in acknowledgement without looking up. When she located what she was looking for in her suitcase, she set it aside. She removed her hoodie and boots, then pulled her knit shirt over her head. When she turned to face Brandon, she was standing there in a flesh-colored, see-through lace bra that showed off her unimaginably perfect tits in the most beguiling way.

“Oh my God. I’msosorry,” she said, looking mortified.

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