Page 2 of The Biker's Last Rodeo
I whisper, “Yeah. Just… hold on.”
I bend forward slightly, just enough to see if there really is a man stalking me. There is.
Fuck! There really is!
It’s not Duke, the ultra-hot bad boy I wouldn’t mind being kidnapped by. The guy with the eyes like a wolf and a jawline that could cut glass. That guy could take me any day. I wouldn’t put up a fight.
This guy is young, maybe in his late twenties, a scar on his left cheek, sporting a leather jacket and tight jeans. You’d think he’d be my type, but he’s smiling.
Why is he smiling?
That, and he’s age appropriate, which also means he’s not my type.
Who wants an appropriate age?Blah.
There’s something so hot about a guy who knows what he wants out of life, even if those things are a little gray… or illegal… or both.
“Maci, you okay?” Kera presses. “You need me to call the cops?”
“I’m on Main Street in the smallest town in America. I think I’ll be okay. There are plenty of people out today.”
I peek again. The guy’s gone. Just… gone, like he dissolved into the mountain air.
Okay… maybe he wasn’t stalking me. Maybe he was just a dude, smiling.
I don’t know which is creepier.
I blink, step out of the alley, and rejoin the world of strollers, iced lattes, and people who don’t know they’re extras in my personal romantic suspense.
A toddler screams about a blue popsicle, a woman in yoga pants carries shopping bags toward her Ford, and a guy in flannel plays a banjo on a bench near the bakery like he’s got a stadium full of people watching. No one looks like they’re about to commit a felony, and no one would get kidnapped on a street like this. It’s not possible. Someone would notice,right?
I’m halfway through convincing myself I imagined the whole thing when I see him. Not the smiling guy with the scar.
It’s him!Duke!
The monster of a man with unreadable eyes and dark ink streaking up and down both arms. He wears all black with a leather jacket and a Stetson tipped low.
Dear Lord, I could use that prayer now, ‘cause I’m not gonna make it.
I freeze mid-step. My phone is still pressed to my ear, but I’ve forgotten how to speak.
“Maci?” Kera’s voice cuts through the static in my brain. “You still there?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “He’s here.”
“Who?”
My heart slams against my chest as I stare toward the man I’ve been having fantasy after filthy fantasy about. “The guy.Myguy.”
“Oh my God!” She sounds terrified. “You’re insane. Run!”
“I’ll call you back when I’m done with all this. Love you, girl.”
“I’m calling the cops.”
“Don’t. It’s okay. He’s not gonna do anything. Trust me.” I end the call with my friend, who probably has way more sense than me, then do the opposite of everything she suggested.
I don’t run. I walk. Not away from him, but toward him.
