Page 53 of The Biker's Brother

When the proprietor or manager or waiter returned with Cami’s purple margarita, Brand said, “How many people usually go to these things?” He indicated the flyer.

“Oh. Might get as many as two hundred.”

“Two hundred,” Brandon deadpanned. When someone said the word concert, the image that sprang to mind wasn’t one ofmaybetwo hundred people.

The man nodded as he left.

Cami put her hands together like she was begging.

Christ.How did anybody ever say no to her?

“We’ll go check it out. If it looks like it’s not any more dangerous than…”

“Being in a restaurant?”

Brandon’s mouth didn’t smile, but his eyes gave away his amusement. “Yeah. That.”

She chatted happily through dinner, which wasn’t bad at all, and made yummy sounds whenever she sipped blackberry margarita through a straw. “You really should try this. It’s incredible.”

“You’re not seriously recommending that when you know that the only thing standing between you and potential mayhem is me.”

Ignoring that, she said, “I’m stuffed,” and pushed the oval-shaped plate away as if to put an exclamation point on her announcement.

The fact that Brandon was vulnerable to her wishes charmed her. It had been a long time since she’d felt like she had that kind of power over a man, the kind of power that made someone care about whether or not a woman was pleased. And for the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours she found herself wishing that he wasn’t gay.

Sure. It made traveling together as strangers a lot more relaxed, but damn. She had no trouble picturing him in all sorts of compromising positions. Positions being the operative word.

When they left the Casa de Rosa, they turned south toward Alamagordo. On the southern outskirts Brandon pulled into a motel with a sign that said The Lost Saucer Inn. It was a rundown motel with about twenty rooms. Not the sort of place anyone would ever expect Carmichael’s only daughter to be spending the night.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Getting a room. Come.”’

He opened his door and got out.

After getting out of the car, she said, “Don’t give me commands like I’m a dog.”

He smiled on the inside because, even though her mouth rebelled, she followed. As he held the door open for her, he scanned for any suspicious activity. There was none. They were acting out a good plan and he knew it.

The Camden Carmichael he’d first seen in that New Jersey warehouse was beautiful. And this Camden Carmichael was beautiful, but you’d have to be close and know her pretty well to realize they were the same person.

Between the drastic change in looks and the drastic change in geography, it was unlikely she’d be found. But it was Brand’s job to be vigilant regardless.

“Need a room for the night,” he said to the clerk.

“Alright. You here for the concert?”

“That’s right,” said Brandon. “I’m a country music lover, how about you?”

He heard Cami snigger behind him as he smiled at the manager.

“Not so much,” said the kid, “but full moon on the sand is kinda cool.”

“Can’t wait,” Brand said as he retrieved his fake drivers’ license and the credit card account opened in the same name. Bradley Forrester. “Thank you.”

“Mr. Forrester?” Brandon turned around. Thank goodness he’d chosen a name similar to Fornight. The clerk was holding out the key. “You forgot the key.”

“Oh sure. Excited about tonight I guess.”

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