Page 6 of Fletch’s Protection

“Twenty-five percent. But I don’t even know your name.”

“Road name is Fletch. Real name is Fletcher Stone.”

She says my name in a husky voice.

Fuck. Why do I like this girl so much? “Let’s go. The gossip vine is catching fire right now.” I roll my eyes toward the people who have been eavesdropping.

With a groan Mari mutters, “You don’t even know. People are gonna think we’re a couple.”

I hold out a hand as I flash a grin. “I thought we were already past that point.”

“You could be an actor by the way,” she says, staring at my outstretched palm. “What you did was very convincing over there.”

Her cheeks are turning pink, and I’d bet a thousand dollars she’s thinking about me smacking that fine ass of hers.

“You think I was acting?” I chuckle. “Come on. I promise not to scare you.”

3

Fletch

At my bike, I get my spare helmet out of the saddlebag, and the coat I keep there for when the temperature drops.

Her big blue eyes trace over my face as I fasten the helmet on her, making sure it’s tight.

Do not kiss her. Don’t even look at her lips.

A lump forms in my throat as I zip her into my coat. My riding jacket is ten times too big for her. “Leather is the best protection,” I explain.

“Are you going to drive dangerously?”

“Not with you, sweetheart.”

When she bites her lip and her cheeks pink up from a fast blush, I almost groan at the sight of her looking adorable in my coat.

Before I cross the line I can’t uncross, I throw my leg over the bike, holding out a hand. “Climb on.”

She barely moves the bike when she settles behind me, but it’s still like an earthquake hitting me. “Hold onto me. Lean with me. Just relax and let me do the work.”

Behind me, she nods, her helmet bumping into my back.

“Great. Everyone is watching this,” Mari calls from behind me. As I pull out of the parking spot, her ex-boss is watching.

“Fuck ‘em,” I yell back to her as I whack the throttle, unleashing a roar of thunder right in the middle of Main Street.

The town fades fast. Mari shivers once, then she settles against me, arms tight, thighs locked around my hips, and for a second, I swear I hear her laugh.

Fuck. I hope so. When I reach back and grip her knee, the pretty young stranger responds by squeezing her arms tighter.

“You good?”

“This is fun,” she yells back.

Yep. I did it. Blew through the danger zone right into the quicksand. This morning I woke up with one thing in mind—building the compound. Now she’s all I can think about.

The size of my problem grows when we roll into the new Mountain Men MC compound and all work stops. Every member stares.

One catcall and I’m gonna break somebody’s teeth.