Page 54 of Rogue's Path

“Um. Yeah.” Is that a bad thing? Because she’s such a nice person.

“No.” He shakes his head. “She just never talks to anyone. And she’s really picky about who she sells her cakes to. We’ve tried to order some for the club, and she always says no.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing personal.” It totally would be for me. There’s no way I would go alone to deliver cakes to a bunch of outlaw bikers. Who knows what would happen?

A lone woman goes into a biker clubhouse never to be seen again. They have a video recording of her leaving, but she was never found again.

Thriller… That would definitely end up being a thriller. “She’s a small business.” There’s no way I’m telling this man she lives alone, no matter how much my gut says he’s a teddy bear.

“True. And I don’t mind coming here to get my fix. Have you tried her cannoli cake?”

That sounds fabulous. “No, not yet.” But now I want to.

The waitress sets down three slices of cake and a cup of black coffee.

Who drinks coffee this late in the evening? “Thank you for acting as security for us.”

“You knew?” He lifts his fork.

“Not then. But yeah. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He breaks off a huge piece. “About that night, you said something that concerned me.”

Oh, no. “It was nothing.”

“You remember?”

How could I forget? “Yeah, I never got that drunk.” Though it was close. “Please ignore my nutty chatter. It was a long night.”

“You sounded very sure that you had a stalker.”

Lie. Keep it simple. But lie. “I was mixing alcohols. It makes me a little crazy.”

He relaxes. “You probably had an exceptional hangover to go with that bruise.”

Oh yeah. “It was terrible.”

“Glad to hear that. Not that you had a migraine, but that you’re safe.” He means that. “Are you staying in town for a while?” The massive bite of cake disappears into the cavern of his mouth.

“Probably.”

“Friday night, there is this community event. It’s dinner and a movie outside.”

Is he doing what I think he is? What is with men suddenly asking me out all the time?

“Would you like to go with me?”

Yeah. He did it. “Um. I kind of already made plans to go with my friend.”

“Oh, okay.” His whole face falls like a puppy that had his treat taken away.

“You could meet us there if you’d like.” Why did I do that? I don’t need to be sort of but not really dating two men while kissing another. But he looked so sad.

“I’ll be there. My name is Bear. What’s yours?”

BEAR? His name is really Bear? I mean, that’s not his legal name or anything. Motorcycle clubs have street names or whatever they’re called. It’s torture to hold the giggle in. “My name is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you, Dylan. Have some cake and tell me about yourself.”