Page 17 of Racer

Edge didn’t say a word, bless his twisted little heart.

Kane lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “Took me a minute, but I recognized them.”

My brow lifted.

“They work for Dez Franklin.”

“The small-time bookie that killed his way to the top and runs a crew now?” Edge asked with a deep scowl. “You think he’s behind the betting syndicate?”

Kane nodded, but his attention had shifted to Emily. “You okay?”

“All good. But I should go. I have stuff to do back at the garage.” She tried to take a step forward, but my fingers tightened around the loop, foiling her escape attempt. I just smiled when she tossed me a cute, disgruntled frown.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Kane offered, already pulling out his keys.

I cut in, not giving her a chance to answer. “She’s riding with me.”

Kane paused. Then blinked before slowly looking at me, as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard that right.

“You’re letting her on your bike?” he asked, clearly surprised.

“She’s like your family,” I replied easily, though in my head, I was muttering about how she was not his fucking family…she was mine.

Kane hesitated, then nodded, accepting the logic. “Appreciate it. Gives me time to talk to some of the other owners.”

He walked off, tossing a wave over his shoulder.

Edge waited until he was gone before whistling low. “You are so fucked, brother.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, but my hand didn’t move from Emily’s hip.

Edge’s grin widened. “I mean, fuck, next thing we know she’ll be driving your bike and wearin’ your balls on a chain.”

“You done?” I glared at him.

He kept laughing.

Ignoring him, I took Emily’s hand and tugged her toward the lot. My hog was waiting, the seat shining under the low floodlights.

She was silent, her gaze locked on my bike.

I smiled. “Pass your muster?”

She nodded slowly as she continued to inspect the Harley, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m a little jealous.”

I laughed. “You should see my ’79 Triumph Bonneville back in Old Bridge. Restored her myself.”

Emily lit up and smiled. “I love vintage motorcycles. There’s just something especially sexy about them.”

Slipping my arm around her waist, I pulled her up against my body. “Yeah, but they can’t compare to you.”

“Me?” She looked up at me with a shocked expression that made me wonder just how often she’d been told how beautiful and womanly she was. I kind of wanted to beat the shit out of her brother, and even Kane and Edge, for treating her “like one of the guys.” Even if she’d acted as if that was what she wanted.

I let her go—grudgingly—and grabbed the extra helmet, holding it out. “You’re sexy as fuck, angel. Now, get on. I’ll take you back to the garage.”

Her cheeks flushed adorably. And even though she didn’t say a word, her eyes held mine just a moment longer than necessary.

And that was enough to confirm that I wasn’t the only one feeling this chemistry.

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