Page 11 of Bounty
“Which burger are you getting?”
Slice had been here before, so I’d trust his judgment. I hoped his choice wouldn’t offend my tastebuds.
“The ‘Eggcellent Burger,’” he said, not even looking at his menu.
My eyes navigated to his selection. It was topped with bacon, a sunny-side-up egg, and sliced avocado.
Meh.
The ‘All American’ it was.
My decision reached, I set the menu aside.
Seeing my expression, he chuckled. “Not too impressed with the Eggcellent, huh?”
“I’m not a fan of avocado,” I admitted. I cringed just thinking about that too soft and green fruit, with a hit-or-miss flavor. Its biggest offense was how quickly it spoiled.
The waitress arrived, setting down the craft-APAs Slice ordered for us. I took a sip, needing the liquid courage to calm down. Slice seemed content to go with the flow, but the lull in conversation skyrocketed my anxiety. What if he found me boring? What if he wasn’t into me, but simply felt obligated to entertain his boss’s daughter? The nonsensical thoughts were baseless, but they continued populating my mind.
“And for you, ma’am?” the waitress asked, pulling me back in the moment.
I handed her my menu. “The ‘All American,’ please.”
She looked me over, her eyes lingering on my exposed cleavage before she focused on my face.
Was she checkingmeout?
I cleared my throat.
“Coming right up!” the waitress chirped, disappearing and leaving me and Slice alone once again.
“The ‘All American’ is good,” he praised, sipping the beer.
Either he hadn’t noticed the waitress’s appraisal of me, or I was delusional.
I mimicked him, sampling my brew once more. Beer wasn’t my choice of drink, but the one he ordered for us wasn’t half bad.
“So, uh, why’d you change your road name?” I blurted, unable to think of something else to jumpstart the conversation. “I’ve been researching outlaw bikers. I thought once you earned a road name, you’re stuck with it for life.”
His eyes widened, then narrowed.
Immediately, I wished I hadn’t divulged the information, and I nearly face planted.
“I’m just curious, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s cool,” I added, attempting damage control.
Instead, my words came out in a hurried, jumbled mess.
Smooth.
Real smooth, Effie.
Flirting was easy for me. I’d been doing it since I hit puberty and knew how to butter a guy up. My mother was an expert flirter, especially with my dad. Cass…well, Cassie only excelled if it involved her boyfriend. The point was, I could be a smooth-talker and had examples of how to do it. And yet, Slice had me struggling.
His tension eased and amusement rose in his eyes. “I don’t mind telling youthis, sweetheart,” he said gruffly. “Fair warning. The less you know, the better.”
Giggling, I rolled my eyes. “Noted, though it isn’t as if I’m in any danger, Slice.”
He nodded. “I want my brothers to take me more seriously. ‘Pretty Boy’ is a childhood nickname and doesn’t earn me respect. I’m the butt of so many fucking jokes, it isn’t even funny. It’s time for a change, and Slice is simple.”
