Page 31 of The Biker and the Baker
That voice.
Hisvoice.
I glance up, and there he is. Holding one handle of a cooler box while Mice holds the other, fast approaching.
Beside me, Lissa sighs dreamily. Her reason for coming here just arrived. She’s so smitten with Mice it’s borderline pathetic. Were I not stronger, I would’ve sighed at the sight of Onyx, too. He’s just so…everything.
Today he’s in jeans, a red tee, and flip flops—yep, flip flops—and he’s so stinking hot I want to strangle him. I resent him for looking so damn good. Why oh why can’t he make it easy for me to hate him?
Over the rim of my cocktail glass, I follow him with my eyes as they carry the cooler box to the other side of the table and set it down in the manicured grass.
At once, all the men shoot up from the table and rush to the cooler box. “Beer!” one of them roars. “Thank shit. Def not about that frufru shit Ley’s serving.”
Leyana rolls her eyes. “You can be secure in your masculinity and still drink a cocktail, Grunt.”
“Good luck trying to convince him of that,” Toni says, eying her man. “He’ll tell you he leaves all ‘cock’ sipping to women, or whatever else he said the last time.”
Kendra snorts at that.
While the men group around the cooler box, grabbing beers and laughing at their own jokes, I’m struggling to take my eyes off Onyx. I wonder if he can feel my gaze burning into his back as he bumps fists with his friends.
Lissa leans over and whispers in my ear, “He’s so freaking hot.Hmnh.”
Dragging my teeth over my bottom lip, I admire his muscles flexing under his tattoos. “Yes, he is.”
But we aren’t talking about the same men.
Mice turns after grabbing a beer for himself, looks over, and catches us staring. Expressionless, he twists the cap off his beer bottle while using his elbow to nudge Onyx. A surreptitious move that I would’ve missed had I not been watching so hard.
Onyx glances over his shoulder at Mice. When Mice jerks his chin in our direction, Onyx turns around, and his eyes land right on me. One eyebrow goes up in surprise and intrigue. Seems his aunt neglected to tell him she invited me.
The grin that slides onto his face is so devilish I almost cower. I can only imagine what’s going through that big, red-haired head of his right now.Ugh.
Cold beer in hand, he saunters around the length of the table and comes right up behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck spring up from the heat of his presence.
He taps my shoulder.
Ignoring him, I stuff a piece of shortcake into my mouth.
When I glance across the table, Cookie is watching us a little too closely.
Don’t worry, boss. I’m not interested in your nephew.
Onyx taps my shoulder again.
I continue to ignore him.
Childish, I know. But that’s what he does to me. He makes me act like a kid, neutralizes my badassness, transforms me into a giddy, silly idiot.
“This cocktail isn’t doing it for me anymore. I think I need…a beer,” Lissa murmurs, still ogling Mice. “I’m gonna go get one. You want?”
“No, don’t move!” I hiss, reaching out to grab her hand to keep her planted. But I’m not fast enough, she’s already up and on the move, her sights set on Mice.
As I feared, Onyx plops down in her vacated seat, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s wearing that shit-eating smirk of his.
“Yo, babe,” he says. “This how you treat your boyfriend?”
Having no choice at this point, I look over at him. And I immediately regret it. Those eyes. Those goddamn freaking moss-colored eyes, staring back at me with mischief and restrained desire. “You’re not my boyfriend,” I hiss. “And stop ‘babe-ing’ me.”
