Jenna Kernan - Black Rock Guardian

If tomorrow morning, he discovered that he’d been seen leaving the roadside bar with an FBI field agent? Well, that was the sort of thing he might be inclined to want to keep to himself.

But Chino was on his way over. “I’ll fix your bike,” he said.

Beth had not anticipated a war over her sled. She definitely didn’t want this mountainous wall of muscle to help her.

Ty stepped to intercept Chino Aria. “Lady asked for me.”

“Because she doesn’t know me,” he said.

“And you’re working,” Ty reminded him.

Chino’s expression went blank for a moment as his eyes lifted toward the ceiling. Then he glanced back at his boss, Faras Pike, who motioned to his muscle with two fingers.

“Master’s calling,” said Ty, just having to get a dig in, it seemed.

Not smart, thought Beth. If she wasn’t undercover, she’d already have her hand on the grip of her pistol.

Chino shot Ty a glare that should have given him pause. Instead, it gave rise to a cocksure crooked smile that Beth admitted made her lips curl upward, as well. There was something satisfying about seeing the big man forced into retreat.

Chino pointed at Ty as if his finger was a gun. “Later,” he said, and pulled the imaginary trigger.

Ty said nothing but scratched beside his mouth with his middle finger. Chino frowned and gave Ty one last angry look before he stalked away.

Ty motioned to the door. “Shall we?”

Beth swung her hips for all she was worth as she sauntered toward the exit. Just before leaving she grabbed Ty by the front of his black T-shirt and tugged. The kiss came naturally.

That surprised her. She’d thought it would feel forced. Unfortunately, they fit together all too well. Ty’s mouth was hungry. His hands moved down her arms to capture her waist and tug. She did not resist, falling against him as he deepened the kiss.

She barely registered the hoots and banging from the customers, who all had ringside seats, as she’d intended. Beth closed her eyes and savored the velvety contact of his mouth and the sandy stubble of his cheek. She hadn’t been really kissed in so long she had forgotten what it felt like.

As his tongue slid along hers and her body began to tingle in all the right places, she realized that she’d never been kissed like this. The warning bells sounded too late. She’d made a mistake, a costly one, because her body did not understand that this was work.

Beth broke away and saw that she’d wiped the crooked smile off Ty’s face. He was now looking at her with a mixture of anticipation and healthy wariness. All large predators had that instinct—the ability to judge if he was facing an opportunity or a threat.

Ty reached past her and pushed open the door. The roar of the customers mixed with shouts of encouragement.

Someone shouted after them. “Fix that bike, Ty!”

Beth turned but not before she saw Ty wave to the crowd like the victor of some sporting competition. Beth smiled. He thought he’d won, but she believed that, in the interrogation room of his tribe’s police station, when she flashed her badge, he might see things differently.

Chapter Five

Outside, the world was dark except for the single spotlight fixed above the bar, illuminating the rutted dirt parking area before the roadhouse. In the windows, the neon glow of beer advertising sent beams of bright color reflecting off the windshields of dusty pickup trucks.

“I’m this way,” she said, leading him to the darkest portion of the lot.

Ty dragged her between two trucks and kissed her again. This time she did not kiss him for show. Oh, no, this time she let herself enjoy each nerve-tingling second. But when his hand moved from her lower back to her backside, she stepped away.

“The bike?” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’m figuring that if I fix it, you might use it to get away.”

She smiled at him. He really was a handsome man. Such a shame he’d chosen so poorly in life. Those dark eyes gleamed with the promise of pleasure, and his mouth turned up in a way that offered a challenge she was tempted to accept. It was a winning combination. Especially when coupled with the hard jawline, straight nose and dark, slashing eyebrows. His hair was a windblown mess, as if he didn’t care how it looked or, perhaps, understood that his mop of hair begged a woman to comb her fingers through the tangles. She indulged herself in the impulse as her eyes feasted on the quintessential bad boy.

The tribe should make warning posters about this one. Still, she was tempted. So tempted to see what he had.

“You need a shave,” she said. His hair was as thick as a horse’s tail. She drew her hand back and touched her own cheek. “You’re giving me razor burn.”

“I have a razor at my place,” he said.

The man did not waste time.

“Unfortunately, I can’t ride there. My bike...” She offered him a regretful look, but her eyes offered something else.

“Let’s go see.”

She led the way across the rutted, dusty lot. He fell into step just behind her left shoulder.

“What kind of sled you have?”

“It’s a BMW F800GT.”

He whistled as his hand stroked her bike, starting at the leather saddle and gliding all the way up to the instruments until his long fingers finally wrapped around one grip.

Beth shivered in response to that sensual glide, and he hadn’t even touched her.

“Rich,” he said. He stretched out his fingers and then wiped his hand across his flat stomach.

Beth’s skin flushed and she found she needed a long intake of air. “I got it used off a guy who...well, he gave me a good price.” She let him wonder about that. The bike was truly hers. She had purchased it at a police auction and knew it had been owned by a man who liked to gamble with his clients’ money. The way she figured it, a bike like this deserved a better owner.

She’d parked it at an angle so no one parked too close and so she could push it out, if necessary.

“You rode in here?” asked Ty, turning his attention to the bike.

“Yeah. It died at the diner. So I checked what I could and then did a push-start. Lucky the diner is on a hill. Got it going all right.”

Ty looked at the bike. “Battery, maybe.”

“It’s fine. Nearly new.”

“You might have left the headlight on when you were in the diner.”

She flipped on the headlight, which glowed brightly.

She pointed to the console. “Says it’s good, plus I flipped back the saddle and tested one of the terminals to ground. It arced just fine.”

“Gas?” he asked.

She cut her gaze away. “Please.”

“So I won’t ask if the kickstand was up and the sled in Neutral.”

“You try and start it,” she said.

He straddled the bike. She couldn’t believe it, but he looked even more handsome. The neon glow from the beer signs illuminated his high cheekbones, and a lock of hair fell over his forehead as he tried and failed to get the bike started.

“How are the plugs?” he asked.

“Good, I think.”

“Well, then I’d say you have gunk in the fuel lines. Maybe the clutch starter. Bike needs air, fuel and spark. We know you have spark and fuel, so...”

She swore as if surprised it was not a quick repair.

“Did the guy at the diner mention that I have a garage?”

Beth nodded.

“I live above my garage.”

Which she knew, but it was obvious he wanted her to know where the closest bed might be.

“You want me to bring it tomorrow morning?”

“Now is good.” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Only thing, you’ll have to drive. I already had too much to drink.”

Which was interesting because she knew from Jake that Ty Redhorse did not drink.