Page 508 of Devil’s Disciples

“Smells good.”

“It’s pretty basic,” I said. “You had some leftover brisket, and it didn’t smell bad, so I guessed it was okay to cook.”

“It’s from night before last.” He sauntered to the table and kissed me. “Cooked meat’s good for four days.”

I was impressed that he knew how long leftovers lasted. I doubted many men did. My father sure didn’t. “Sounds like we’ll be okay.”

He kissed me again and then took a seat. He gestured toward the other side of the table. “Why’s your plate way over there?”

“I just set them across from one another.”

“There’s three options,” he said, “and that’s the worst one. We’re not buddies.”

“What are we?”

He leaned over the table picked up my plate. After setting it at the seat beside him, he looked right at me. “Lovers.”

It wasn’t at all what I expected him to say, but the response satisfied me greatly. I smiled and took a seat at his side.

I poked at my plate while he sampled the food. After a few forkfuls, he swallowed, paused, and looked at me. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he said. “You can cook, girl. Damn.”

“You like it?”

“Hell yes, I like it.” He nodded toward my plate. “Come on. Dig in. It’ll get cold.”

My gaze lingered on him for a moment. His face, for once, was shaved clean, revealing his strong jawline, and pronounced chin. He was a very handsome man, and it was hard for me to believe he was mine.

In less than twenty-four hours, my life had transformed from a wish to a fairy tale.

We ate our breakfast together. I struggled to pace myself to match his speed, so we’d finish at the same time. Afterward, we sipped our coffee while stealing glances at one another.

“Got a question for you,” he said.

I hugged my coffee cup with my palms. “Okay.”

“We’ve got a poker run on Saturday. It’s a big one. Maybe thirty-five hundred people. Afterward, we’re having a party at Goose’s house. Probably be a hundred people there. I’d like for you to go. Can you get off work?”

I had no idea what a poker run was, but I didn’t care. If it was with Reno, I wanted to do it.

I needed to mentally prepare for it, though. “Is it legal?”

He laughed. “It’s a fucking poker run.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He slid his coffee cup to the side and leaned forward. “We start out at the Harley dealership. Three or four thousand people on motorcycles. We ride to five different spots, as a group. In each spot, we’re assigned a card from a deck of cards. When it’s over, the person with the best poker hand wins a prize. Each participant pays a hundred bucks to ride in it, and the money goes to charity. My club and Crip’s club organized this one. Money’s going to the Joyful Heart Foundation. It’s an organization that helps sexual assault victims get their lives back together.”

I nearly choked on my emotions. Big bad tattooed bikers raising money for victims of sexual assault. Thirty-five hundred participants at a hundred dollars each would raise $350,000 for a cause well worth supporting.

“I’m aware of the foundation,” I said. “I’d love to go, but there’s one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Marta and I trade shifts all the time, so I’m pretty sure she’ll take my shift. She can’t work later than about six o’clock, though. She’s divorced, and her ex is a jerk about keeping the kids later than that. So, I could go, but I’d have to work from six until ten. I could go to the party afterward, though. If you want me to.”

“Want you to?” His eyes thinned. “Hell yes, I want you to. We’re in this together. A couple, remember?”

I didn’t know what to expect. Angel never did anything with me. Ever. Being included in Reno’s life beyond the bedroom was going to be a nice change of pace. “Sorry,” I said jokingly. “I forgot.”