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Illusive

Page 12

I smiled at her and nodded. “Yes, please. I’m starving. Can I please get one of your beef burgers with salad, and cheese, but hold the tomato, and add avocado. And can I have it without the barbeque sauce but add honey mustard, please?”

She scribbled all that down, and asked, “A drink? And do you want chips, too?”

“Oh, honey, I really do want chips with that, but hell, I know you’ll know exactly what I’m saying when I say to you that even though today is the kind of day I need chips, I am so far from needing them that I’ll have to say no. And, yes, can I please have some water?”

She nodded at me, and said, “I hear you. Boy, do I hear you.” Looking at Griff, she muttered, “Our men have no idea how easy they have it.”

I laughed.

He didn’t.

I wonder if he’s always this serious?

“You want anything else?” she asked him as she collected his empty plate.

He shook his head. “No, thanks.”

A man with manners. I liked that.

“I’ll have this out to you soon,” she said to me, and then she was gone. And I was left with Griff who was watching me with a look I couldn’t pick.

Deciding I needed a moment, I excused myself. “I’ll be back; just gotta use the ladies,” I said, and didn’t give him a chance to say anything before heading in the direction of the bathroom. I hoped he’d still be at the table when I returned.

Five minutes later, as I was washing my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Goodness, I needed some lipstick. But I had the issue of food. I hated eating when I had a full set of lips on. But, damn, I had a gorgeous man sitting across from me. And what woman wants to sit in front of a hot guy looking washed out?

I rested my hands on the sink and took a deep breath. He’d already seen me without the lipstick so really, what was the point of even worrying about this? Besides, after Tommy had trashed my heart, I’d promised myself I’d never date a man again who was more concerned about my appearance than my feelings.

Time to respect myself.

Griff might be drop dead gorgeous, and I might be interested in him, but if he preferred a woman who always had colour on her lips, he wasn’t the man for me.

I grabbed my bag and exited the bathroom. When I found him still sitting at the table, my heart did a little dance of happiness.

He was on his phone as I approached, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes swept over my body, lingering on my legs, and – good God – that felt good. I sat across from him just as he ended his call.

“Do you always wear the shortest shorts known to mankind?” he asked, placing his phone on the table.

“What? You don’t like them?” I asked with a teasing smile. The way he’d eyed my legs led me to believe he did like them, but a little flirting never hurt anyone.

Heat flashed in his eyes and he shifted forward in his seat. “Sweetheart, there isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t like those shorts on you.”

His words hit my core, and I squeezed my legs together. Words failed me – not something I was used to. Thankfully, the waitress saved me when she brought some water to the table.

I poured myself a drink and took a gulp. Griff had flustered me, and I needed a moment. Hell, it felt like I needed a lot of moments when I was around him.

“You should try boxing,” he said, confusing me.

“What for?” I asked, taking another gulp of water.

“To unkink your knots. It’ll help.”

I placed my glass on the table. “I’ve seen the punching bags at the gym; maybe I’ll give it a go tomorrow.”

He stood, and disappointment spread through me. “Make sure you get a trainer to teach you proper technique,” he said as he grabbed his phone. “And next time, eat the chips, sweetheart. Life’s too fucking short not to eat the chips.”

I watched as he walked out of the diner, and when I saw him head to a motorcycle, I realised what Tommy had meant earlier. He’s a biker. It was written clearly on his vest – Storm Motorcycle Club. He hadn’t been wearing that vest the other times I’d spoken to him, and I’d been so busy making a fool of myself while he sat in front of me tonight that I had failed to take it in.

Well, shit. I’d never known a biker before. Didn’t bother me, though, especially because I’d seen the way Griff cared for his aunt. In my books, the way a person treated their family said more about them than any judgement handed down by society. I’d known people that society deemed upstanding citizens, but their behavior towards family behind closed doors painted a vastly different picture. Society’s opinion meant very little to me and could kiss my ass.

6

Griff

“Drinks are off tonight,” Scott said as I drank the remainder of my coffee. We were in the clubhouse kitchen going over our plans for the day.

“Yeah?”

Nodding, he confirmed, “Yeah. King’s ripped through the club and pissed a lot of the guys off so there have been a lot of cancellations for tonight. I figure there’s no point doing it with just a few of us. We’ll have to wait until we weed the assholes out. Maybe then we’ll have half a chance to start rebuilding¸ without anyone working against us.”

I rubbed the back of my neck and shoulders, trying to work the knots out that only seemed to get worse every day. “Makes sense.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “You look even worse than you did the other day. You okay?”

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