Page 4

Gianna

I f this night wasn’t horrible enough, I’m on my ass for the second time in minutes in the presence of this jerk who showed up to give me a tow.

If I wasn’t freezing my bruised ass off, I’d break down and cry, but I’m too pissed off to shed any tears.

I wish Mother Nature would make up her mind on if she wants to give us snow or ice.

Large hands hook under my armpits. “Easy there, slick.” He lifts, and I go back to my feet.

“I’m gonna carry you. Don’t need you doing more damage to that ankle until I can look at it,” he grits through his teeth, picking me up bridal style.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He takes a few tentative steps, and I curl into him away from the bite of the snowy winter’s air.

He smells of leather and weed. Great . I’m being forced to depend on a pothead mechanic in a snowstorm.

Perfect . A few more worrisome steps and he is putting me down, my toes on top his boots to open the door. My unlikely hero picks me up again to sit me on the bench seat of the truck. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He reaches across me to turn up the heat then shrugs his jacket off. “Put this on. I’ll have you outta here in a few.”

I slip my arms through the holes being swallowed by his leather jacket.

Wrapping my arms around my middle, I wait for the heat to warm my bones while the tow guy finishes getting my car hooked up.

I take off my shoe and try to inspect my tender ankle but can’t tell much about it in this position.

Minutes later he’s in the truck, and I get my first full look at him under the interior light .

Okay, I admit this guy is hot. Dark hair and gorgeous green eyes with flecks of gold swirling in them. A neatly trimmed mustache and goatee that suits the angular shape of his face.

“Everything go okay?”

“It’s too damn slick. I’ll come back for your car when the roads have been cleared. I barely made it around the truck to get in.” He drives up the road a bit then turns around to return the way he came from.

“Will my car be okay?”

“It can’t get any worse. Besides no one is traveling in this shit. What are you doing on the road anyway?”

“I was on my way home from work.” My pride is as wounded as my ass. I’m so damn stupid. For five seconds I entertained the thought that maybe fate put Jesse in my path again. What an idiot. I can’t believe he’s with Donna. The bitch who made my life hell. Of all people he could get with. Why her?

“Fair enough.” He grunts, pulling a pack of cigarettes out.

“Can you not?”

“My bad. You want one?”

“Ugh. No. I meant can you not smoke.”

“Nope.” He shoves the cancer causing stick between his lips and fires it up. I let out a fake cough and gag, making a fuss but he chuckles and cracks my window. “That better, princess?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should I call you?” He takes a hard drag off his cigarette, the end glowing in the cab of the truck as we make the slow drive to wherever he’s taking me.

“Gianna. And you?”

“Stud. ”

My lips twitch upward. “Your name is Stud?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay, but what’s your real name?”

“Only woman who calls me by my birth name is my mother and seeing as you aren’t my mother, it’s none of your business.”

“Wow,” I whisper to myself. Rude much. Okay then. Stud it is.

I really hate men right now but at least this guy is easy on the eyes. I could have worse prospects and he did venture out in this weather to rescue me.

The rest of the ride is quiet, and I’m a bit uncomfortable in the awkward silence.

The cigarette is flicked out the window, taking the stinky scent of smoke along with it.

The truck rolls to a stop in front of a bar I’ve been told to stay away from my whole life.

Anyone from Drag Creek knows that you don’t tangle with Black Rebel Riders’ MC.

My reason for staying has been different though.

My brother forbade me from ever getting involved with a motorcycle man. Because he’s a member and he doesn’t want his little sister getting messed up with one of his brothers. He didn’t need to warn me twice. Jessie put me off bad boys a long time ago.

“What are we doing here?”

“Finding you a bed to sleep in, princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” I huff, earning me another dark laugh ripping from his throat.

The engine cuts off and the lights from inside the bar are dim.

“C’mon. You can’t sleep out here all night.” Stud opens his door, and I shiver automatically as the cold air blusters through the cab .

He’s got that right. It’s too cold not be in a warm bed and beggars can’t be choosers.

Besides I know they will look after me because I’m Chaser’s little sister.

Exiting the massive truck, I’m not prepared for the vast gap between the truck and the ground.

Is this vehicle a tow truck or a monster truck?

I’m saved the embarrassment of falling on my ass for a third time when Stud shuffles around to the passenger side and lifts me, once again coming to my rescue.

“Thank you.”

“Not all heroes wear capes.”

“No, they wear leather.” I giggle. The ridiculousness of the whole night washes over me and I snap. I can’t stop laughing as this guy named Stud carries me into a biker bar. Inside, the door shut behind us, he drops me to my feet, my body sliding against his .

“You look as though you could use a drink,” he tells me, circling his gloved fingers around my wrist, tugging me toward the long bar lined with stools. I hobble along with one shoe on knowing I likely look like a moron.

It’s quiet, but I suppose with the bad weather it would be. There are a few rough looking men sitting at a booth in the corner playing a game of poker. Stud gives them a nod and a dark-haired woman with some streaks of red and green in her hair blows him a kiss.

“Have a seat.” He ushers me onto a stool, and I plant my ass.

Stud slides his jacket down my arms and slings it over the bar.

I kick my other shoe off and watch as Stud pushes the dark sleeves of his tee up his forearms revealing his impressive ink that travels the lengths of both his arms as he maneuvers behind the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“Surprise me. I’m not much of a drinker. ”

“Can do, princess. Can do.” He winks. Jerk . I told him to stop calling me that.

“I have no doubt about that.”

His head moves side to side. “You always gotta get in the last word?”

“Excuse me?”

“Got your sassy pants on. You love to argue.” The statement catches me off guard.

“No I don’t.”

“Yeah you do, but I’m going to give a pass this one time, sassy pants.” Great . Another nickname. He slides a glass shaped like a mason jar across the counter filled halfway with red liquid and a few cherries. “This should help get the stick out your ass.”

“You can’t help yourself, can you? Shit just falls out your mouth every time you open it.”

“I simply call it as I see it. You’re all wound up about something. ”

“Did you ever think that maybe it has to do with the fact that I wrecked my car, and I’m having to spend the night with a man I don’t even know? Not to mention I’ve probably sprained my ankle and it hurts like hell.”

“Well no.” He grins and knocks back a shot before lighting up another nasty ass cigarette. “Want me to look at that ankle?”

“It’s fine.”

“Right.” Stud takes a drag off his cigarette and makes the act look seriously sexy. Ugh.