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I crossed my arms. “I’m not going in until you tell me what’s doin’.”
“Fine. Stay.” She marched away, climbing the hill.
Her tight little ass swayed in cotton shorts, making my mouth water. Quit drooling and find the fucking phone. I kicked a rock out of the way with the cast. Still nada.
The wind whistled, but Bou’s voice cut through. “You won’t find it, ’cause Celt has it.”
13
Bou
I slung open the door and whipped it shut behind me. At the bench where Wilde had been working yesterday, I picked up the master cylinder he’d rebuilt. He’d done a good job. He knew his way around bikes. I leaned my back on the ledge and watched the door. Let the countdown begin... three, two...
The door clattered open; Wilde’s huge form filled the frame, shadowed in front of the brilliant desert sunrise. His shoulders lifted and lowered with a heavy breath. He was in no fit state to be wandering around, even on the crutch.
I smirked at him.
“Why the fuck does your brother have my phone?”
Ignoring his question, I examined the assembly. “Pretty solid work here.”
He hulked over to stand within a few paces in front of me. “Don’t give a rat’s ass about that thing. Call him. Get my phone back now.”
Perhaps I should have feared him, angry as he was. Wilde was way bigger than Luke and probably much more capable of forcing me toward his will, whatever that might be. Maybe I should have been reaching under the bench for my Sig. Hell, he’d nearly growled when he made his demand. But it didn’t frighten me. He didn’t scare me. In fact, my heart raced for entirely different reasons. The way he stood before me, the tank plastered to his abs, with his fists clenched and a muscle ticking in his jaw, Wilde looked every bit like the fierce kind of man I could...
No, Bou. I licked my lips and carefully said, “Do you think for one moment that we don’t know what’s going down or who ran you off the road out there?”
The wind outside gusted again, sucking the shop door. Slam-rattle. Without the blinding backlight, my eyes adjusted. I started to make out more details of his features. Sweat glistened on his muscles, slickening the tats. It would be a hella hot day in more ways than one.
Wilde’s breathing slowed and his brows peaked. “No clue what you mean.”
“You’re a shit liar.” I tossed the cylinder on the bench and moved closer to him. His heat engulfed me, but the hairs on my arms stood on end like it was one of those Minnesota winter days Pops used to tell stories about. “Outside, you asked, ‘what’s doin’?’ So I’ll spill. Just because The Ridge doesn’t show up on a map doesn’t mean the people here aren’t in the know. They call this area the Yuma Triangle—kinda like Bermuda. People in your kind of biz come this way to get lost. The crew in town deals with all the major gangs, AX3 included, but they play it neutral.”
“If you know the AX3’s on my tail, you should fucking want me gone.”
“If anyone comes looking, the Ridge Rats are going to be all over it. If the Ridge Rats know you’re here, they’ll be all over your sorry ass. You better start thinking of this as the wild west and lawless is the only law in the Yuma.”
“Thought your brother was the law.”
“Celt has a title. You think that means shit? Only law here is what can be enforced by Smith or Wesson.” I peered over his shoulder. “See there, and there.” I pointed to the bench across the shop, underneath where I stored the guns. “No biz is allowed in my shop. Mechanics and body work, that’s all that’s going down here.”
“Except now you’re hiding me. And I’m running from the AX3.” He took another step toward me.
“You’d do better to worry about the Ridge Rats for now.” There wasn’t much space remaining, but I filled it. “They don’t know you’re here. How the hell they don’t is beyond me, but Celt and Doc says we’re safe here... as long as you don’t go traipsing around outside letting them know. Just sit tight.”
“Don’t fucking know how.” His burst of breath hit my face. Too close. His posture eased, head tilted, and words softened. “Why don’t you just let me use your phone? I’ll call for a ride.”
“Nah. I suggested that too. Celt warned against it.”
“So, you wanna keep me locked up? Maybe tied up too?” His voice purred now, teasing. It was a question that didn’t need an answer, but his words conjured images that were bordering on dangerous. And delicious. His voice drew me closer. I smelled mint from my toothpaste on his breath, piercing enough to snap me back to reality.
I stepped away and trailed my hand over his motorcycle, latching onto it as a safe topic of conversation. “You seem to know your way around your bike.”
“She’s got a name. Just like you, Bou.”
Damn, the way my name fell from his lips.
I couldn’t face him.
