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Stop in. Say hi. See where it went.

If it felt weird, I was free to leave. Then spend the rest of the night kicking myself for being so stupid. But, hey, at least that was something to think about other than Perry, my lawyer, and bills I was going to need to figure out how to pay.

I exhaled hard, cut the engine, and climbed out before I could overthink it.

I wasn’t wearing my nicest outfit, just jeans and a white sweater, but maybe that was for the best. It seemed like the dress code for the party was casual. Very casual. Meaning certain articles of clothing were very optional.

As I was walking up, a girl in a thong and a baby tee squealed and ran away from a man, laughing as she disappeared behind the house.

Okay.

Jeans and a sweater was probably overdressed, in fact. A dress probably would have been comical.

I scanned around, looking for a familiar face. But there didn’t appear to be any of the older men from the bar. I didn’t spot the guy I’d met after the haunted house, either.

I was standing staring at the closed door, hearing conversation, laughter, and music on the other side, when someone else opened the door from inside.

Well.

If the universe sent signs, that certainly felt like one.

I waited for the girl to step outside, then forced myself to move inward.

The interior was packed with bodies—maybe only ten men but almost double that many women. Gorgeous women. One after another. In every different size, hair color, tattooed, more modest. But every last one beautiful.

And young.

I had to be the oldest one of the bunch.

Other than that, the space was much more upscale than I’d been anticipating.

There were the typical things I thought of when I envisioned bikers: a bar, pool table, darts, and a big TV. But everything was surprisingly neat and seemingly expensive.

The music swelled from hidden speakers, the beat rising up through my shoes and vibrating in my chest. I couldn’t quite decide if it was a cool sensation or off-putting.

Before I could make up my mind, though, my gaze scanned the room again.

And there he was.

Leaning against the doorway to another room, a bottle of beer in his hand, looking casually sexy in a white tee, jeans, and his leather cut.

His gaze?

Right on me.

Any chance to run and act like I was never there at all flew out the window.

Instead, I shot him what I hoped was a small, friendly smile, and not one that was full of the uncertainty and anxiety I was feeling.

Cain pushed off the doorway and made his way toward me, casually sidestepping a giggling drunk girl who stumbled into his path.

“Georgie,” he said. My name in his voice made a little shiver course down my spine. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

I felt some of the tension flee my shoulders. That was maybe the only thing he could have said to put me at ease. No questions about why I was there, what I wanted. Just a greeting.

“Can I get you a drink?”

I probably shouldn’t have been drinking if I was driving. But one drink nursed over the next few hours wasn’t going to impair me.