Page 53 of The Belle and the Biker

“One week.”

I throw my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, you win.”

He looks smug.

“One week plus one week it is.”

“Jesus, woman!”

“And we need to look for the puppies too.”

Crash rolls his eyes. “Anything else? Would you like me to build you a dog shelter right here?”

“If we find the puppies, that’s extra karma points! For free!” I protest. “Free karma points are not to be overlooked.”

“All right then, Dolly Lama.”

“Ooh. I actually like that. If I ever get a llama, that’s what I’m naming her.”

We’re on a barren stretch of road with nothing but scrubby underbrush. The two of us walk up and down the road looking for any sign of a litter, and unfortunately, we can’t find anything. Finally, we give up and call Tank to pick up the dog in his van, and he obliges and meets us back at the trailer.

“She’s a dog person,” Tank says to Crash. “That means she’s a keeper.”

Crash smirks and doesn’t reveal my secret to Tank that I am saving this dog for selfish reasons.

It’s evening, and no vets are open, so I’ll have to take her in tomorrow. We feed and bathe her, and she perks up a little, but she still seems depressed. She is probably missing her puppies, poor thing. I wish we’d been able to find them. Realistically, there’s a good chance they’re not alive anymore.

We make a blanket bed for her and settle her in on the screened-in rear porch because the weather will be nice, and there’s no room for her in the trailer. Crash and I can barely turn around without bumping into each other.

And finally, it’s time for me to get ready for my first waitressing shift at Sparky’s. I go to tell the dog goodbye. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back later,” I say, stroking her rough fur. “I will name you Buttercup for now. Don’t get too used to it. I’m not a dog person, and you are being put up for adoption as soon as you’re prettier.” Unless I decide to keep her longer just to annoy Crash.

CHAPTER17

Savannah

Tawny comesover to meet us and help me get ready for work. She insists on doing my makeup again, readjusting my wig to her liking, and supervising my jewelry selection.

“I really don’t like you sometimes.” I make faces at myself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom. Crash is standing on the other side of the door, not so patiently waiting for us. “Why couldn’t I at least wear plain T-shirts? Why did every single one have to be crude and offensive?”

She shrugs. “Only kind I own. And we’re trying to sell you as a biker babe. What are you bitching about anyway? I dress like this every day.” She gestures at her T-shirt, which has a picture of a woman flipping the bird and the phrase: “Bitch. It’s not just a word; it’s a lifestyle.” Her jewelry consists of knuckle rings on her left hand and a cute little ring with two prongs that look like cat ears on her right hand. The prongs are for poking people’s eyes out. The ensemble is completed with black denim jeans and steel-toed combat boots. “What’s wrong with it?” she demands belligerently.

“Nothing is wrong with it—for you! It’s just not me at all. Would you enjoy it if I did a Southern Belle makeover on you? Would you like wearing subtle pink lip gloss, low-key eyeshadow and liner, pearls, a hairdo out of a society magazine, low-heeled pumps, a nice polka dot dress, or maybe florals, or just seersucker…hey, why are you backing away from me? I’m actually getting excited about this!”

“Stop!” she cries out as I advance on her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I lift up a lock of her hair. She smacks my hand away. “We could go shopping tomorrow. It’s on me. Well, it’s on my Great-Aunt Hepzibah. Southern Belle makeover, top to bottom.”

“Gross! No way. Okay, I see your point about the makeover.”

“So, can we ease up a little on my outfits?”

“Nope,” she and Crash say at the exact same time. He must have had his damn ear pressed up against the door.

“I hate the both of you!” I stalk out of the bathroom, scowling.

“At least you’re alive to hate us.” Crash shrugs. Then his phone rings. He looks at it, and instantly his face flushes with the kind of scowl I’ve never seen on him before.

“Fucking seriously?” he shouts.

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