Page 168 of Indecent Lies

“You wanna head in for a drink? It’s freezing out here.”

She shrugged and turned toward the door. She supposed she should.

She was meant to be staying at Zara’s this weekend but she just wanted to go home to her foster parents' house.

The new guy didn’t smile, just as well, she wasn’t in the mood for kiss-asses.

But his eyes were watchful. “I’m Judge.”

“Angie.”

“Come on, mamacita, we’ll get you something warm to drink for the shock.” He surprised her by putting his hand on the base of her back, leading her inside and he smiled down at her. “Think we’re gonna be good friends, Angie.”

She didn’t want friends.

She already had a best friend and he’d left her without a word.

THIRTY-EIGHT

“I get screwed over from beyond the grave.” – Texas

Life was sweet.

For the last two weeks, Texas woke smiling.

Sometimes he woke with his girl sucking him off, that was even better.

Most often he woke to the sound of bleating, the damn tiny goat demanding attention from his crate. Or the newly chunk of a kitten who ate like a horse, giving off her tiny mewls for food.

Life was sweet as it had ever been because every day he got to roll into Poppy and kiss her neck and hear her contented sigh.

It didn’t matter that her mom suddenly started to message her again or that they put Poppy in a spin every time her phone pinged, because his girl was happy.

He got into being a boyfriend really quickly and found he thrived in that role.

Texas hadn’t known being a biker was in his soul, it killed not to wear his patch, it always meant something to him, not just a status but belonging somewhere, so doing without it while being back in Armado was an adjustment.

Poppy continually reminded him he was still a biker and it was time he got back to being who he was.

Texas.

Only she called him Tait which he really fucking liked.

But he was Texas.

So, he stood in his bathroom that morning, shaved off the closely clipped overgrown facial hair until he recognized himself again. He styled his hair with all his products. He used moisturizer, shaving balm and his cologne before he slid into a crisp white shirt, wrapped a thick tailed gray and white tie around his neck and his fingers wound it around in a Windsor knot.

He didn’t have his cut to slip into and that burned but when he got into a black vest and soft-worn denim on his legs and his tan Mohawk boots, he felt more like himself than he had in a while and it had a lot to do with the heavily sated, snoozing woman in his bed.

With one last job to fix up downstairs in a last apartment, he left her asleep, kissing her neck, so he could ride across into Fort Springs.

Jamie Steele owned a hardware store and Texas wanted a discount.

He didn’t intend to be out all day, the quick fix in the apartment wouldn’t take a couple of hours, then he was officially done with his project, unsure what he wanted to do after that. But his main reason for rushing was because last night, after a hard round of wear-me-out sex where Poppy had the idea to ride his brains out until he was ready to call mercy, she proclaimed she was making rosemary meatloaf tonight for dinner.

Her food was hit and miss, it reminded him of Zara when he used to sit around her table, but there wasn’t one time he didn’t love to watch her wreck his kitchen until it resembled a tornado had swept through.

Poppy was a fan of using every utensil.

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