“Be right up.”
She walks away, and I shove our two menus behind the condiment caddy.
Marcus folds his arms and leans his elbows on the table, his gaze on me. “So, how’ve you been, Brandy?”
“Good. How’d your Christmas tree cake delivery go?”
He chuckles, his head dropping as he shifts in his seat. “It went fine.”
“I have to admit, the last thing I expected was a bunch of bikers walking in to make the pickup.” I arch a brow. “Guess you boys have a sweet tooth, huh?”
He tilts his head to the side and confesses. “It was kind of a test.”
I take a sip of my coffee and set it in the saucer. “Oh? What kind of test?”
“To see if we could follow directions and come back with the correct number of boxes.”
“So… you passed?”
“Yeah, we passed.”
“Did you at least get a cake out of the deal?”
“I did. Enjoyed it with a glass of brandy.”
His meaning hits me, and there’s that feeling again—the shivery butterflies that tell me there’s something about this guy that draws me in. I’ve only seen him twice, and I already know I want to be around him all the time.
He takes my hand from the handle of my mug. “Glad I got to see you tonight.”
“I am, too, though I can’t stay out too long.”
He nods. “I won’t keep you out until sunrise, then.”
“Was that your plan?”
“To tell the truth, I didn’t really have a plan beyond seeing you. I guess I’m more of a play-it-by-ear kind of guy.”
I take a sip from my mug. “I can see that about you.”
“Oh, you can, can you?” He chuckles, and it’s a deep, melodic sound I’m already addicted to. He seems so comfortable in his own skin, and he has a calm about him that relaxes me around him. I feel safe with him. There’s a good vibe around him, although the leather vest laying across the seat of my truck screams otherwise. Suddenly I can’t help coming right out and asking.
“Are you a good guy, Marcus?”
“I am ninety-nine percent a good guy. But that one percent is enough to kill you.”
“Is this MC you’re trying to join dangerous?”
“Absolutely. But you have nothing to worry about, Brandy. I would never hurt you, and I would never let anyone else hurt you, either.”
I look down at my mug, pulling my hand from his and tucking my hair behind my ear. “You were pretty rough on that guy tonight.”
“He deserved it. Did he not?”
“I guess so.”
“No guessing about it. Maybe if someone had told him no more often when he was growing up, he wouldn’t feel like the world is his for the taking. I’ve got no patience for guys like that—one’s who think they’re entitled.”
He’s hitting too close to home, though he has no idea. “I guess I know a few guys like that.”