Read BikersLibrarian Online

Authors: Shyla Colt

BikersLibrarian (3 page)

“You’re crazy.”

“You feel it too. I’m not the type of man to bullshit. I’m
interested. Are you going to give me the time of day?”

She nibbled her bottom lip as he sipped at his whiskey.

“How about this.” She unzipped the tiny purse that dangled
off her wrist, dug around and removed a white card. “You come find me, and
we’ll talk.” The playful mirth that colored her eyes made him grin.

“A mission? You have no idea how good I am at fulfilling
those.”

“I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”

“Fuck yes, you will.”

Chapter Three

 

“Juliette…someone is out front asking for you.” Billy, the
library’s volunteer, looked confused and slightly pale. The freckles smattered
across the bridge of his nose stood out and his bright-blue eyes held a note of
fear.

“Are they upset?” she asked, standing from the bottom shelf
she’d been restocking.

“I don’t know. I think his face is just fixed into a
permanent scowl.” Billy gestured toward the front of the building. His long
russet hair fell across his eyes. “I left him at the desk. Do you want me to
call security?”

Excitement raced through her.
Did Shooter actually come
here?
After two days of nothing, she’d chalked their night flirting to a
one-off. “No, it’s fine, Billy. I think I know the person you’re describing.”
She checked her hair for flyaways, smoothed the wayward pieces into place and
straightened her white button-up and gray skirt. She took a deep breath and
walked out of the row of books, careful to pace her steps.
I don’t want to
seem too eager.
The biker shocked her with his charm, wit and though she
was ashamed to say it, his manners. He’d been raised right by someone. As she
drew closer to the front desk she spotted his unmistakable frame leaning
against the desk. His dark hair was swept back off his face and he grinned up
at her.

“Excuse me, Miss, I’m in search of a good read.” The
shit-eating grin stretched across his handsome face made her heart race.

“I think I can help you with that, sir. What kind of story
are you in the mood for?”

“A mystery.” There was a weight to the words she didn’t
quite understand.

“What kind of mystery are you looking for?” She reached the
desk and stopped a few feet away from him.

“Isn’t the fun part choosing the book and discovering where
it takes you?”

“To be honest, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I almost didn’t come. I’m not a nice man, Juliette. I can’t
promise you I’ll be good for you. But I will be good
to
you.”

“Why?” She wanted to believe him but she’d made a mistake
before. Masculinity attracted her. She was a throwback, someone who liked a man
to be a man—bold, confident, strong and chivalrous. The last time she’d been
blinded by wealth, charm and polished good looks. She thought she’d found her
real-life Gatsby with Peter Stant but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Shooter was none of those things. Upfront and honest to the
point of being harsh, he had an old-world quality. A warrior’s soul dressed in
the gear of a biker.

“You remind me of things I haven’t touched on in a long
time. My parents were old school. You bring that out in me.”

She licked her lips. “I like that.”

“Oh yeah? Why? You trying to take a walk on the wild side?
Is this some sort of dream fulfillment? The little librarian trying to live out
some sort of romance-book scenario?”

The words made her blink rapidly. “You just went from sweet
to asshole in less than three seconds and you’re questioning me?”

He laughed. “Just checking, I’m no one’s pet project.”

“I’m not interested in playing games, or trying to tame a
man. You seem like the type of person who knows who he is and what he wants. It
has an appeal. You’re blunt but honest. I like that.”

“You think you can handle it?” His brow furrowed and the
corners of his lips turned down.

“I can handle more than you could imagine.” Juliette placed
her hands on her hips and returned his stare.

“All right.” He held up his hand in a mock defeat. “I came
to invite you to the lake today if you’re free.”

“I actually get off work in about an hour.” She’d been on
the clock since seven, bringing inventory up to date and moving on to the usual
opening duties.

“I’ll come back here in an hour and half, be ready.”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Lake Elsinore, pack light, we’re taking my bike.” With a
slick smile that made her nipples harden he turned and strolled out of the
library, taking her breath with him.
What the hell does one wear to a day on
the lake with bikers?
Her stomach knotted.
What’s he going to think of
me in my swimsuit?
It’d been a long time since she exposed herself to a
male.
You’re not going to the gym today? You need to be careful or those
curves will turn to plumpness. That’s what you’re going to wear to the party?
Oh no, that won’t do. Let’s go back to the closet and try it again, you’re
looking a little whorish.
The negative voice attempted to creep back in.
She slammed the door shut.

There was nothing for her in the past. She’d already heard
everything it had to say. Most of it hadn’t been good. A skewed self-image
wasn’t something she used to have a problem with. But the brain was a sponge.
If someone said the same thing to you over and over, you kind of started to soak
it in.

 

She finished up her day at work, questioning her decision.
In the end, she went home and took the most logical approach and called her
least judgmental and bluntest friend.

“Hey girl, what’s going on?” Joey asked.

“Thank god you picked up. I need some advice.”

The typing stopped on the other side of the phone. “I’m all
ears,” Joey said.

“So, remember the guy I met at the bar, Shooter?”

“The sexy-hot biker who stunned us all by showing respect?
Yeah, kind of hard to forget.”

“Well…he showed up at work.”

“What?”

Juliette flinched and pulled the phone away from her ear.
“Yes. I gave him my card. I knew he might look me up but I assumed he
wouldn’t.”

“Why? Clearly he was into you.”

“How could you tell? I thought maybe he wanted to kill
time.”

“God, you’re so oblivious.” Joey huffed. “A man like that
isn’t going to waste his time chatting up some girl because he’s bored. He had
bitches drooling over him. If he wanted sex, he had it offered up on a
platter.”

“Some men like the challenge. It’s a game. Like a bet.”

“Oh honey, he’s not Peter.”

“I know. I’m trying to tell myself that, but it’s hard
getting out there again, and Shooter…”

“Is kind of scary because he, or rather his lifestyle is
completely out of your depth?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me ask you this—what do you see in him?”

“He’s real and out there for everyone to see. It makes me
want to trust him and find out his story. That’s something I never imagined
feeling for a man again, that wonder and interest. My pull toward him is at
least as strong as my fear of being hurt, figuratively speaking.”

“So see where it leads you. Don’t let one bad experience
sour you forever. It’s been long enough.”

“It’s been a little over six months, I feel ready, I really
do. Other issues are popping up to the surface now that I’m testing the waters,
and they have me off-kilter. He invited me to go with him out to the lake with
friends.”

“That’s huge. He’s bringing you around the brothers?”

“I guess.”

“Trust me. It’s a sign of how into you he is.” A silence
passed between them. “I want you to be careful about this, Jul. Bikers live by
a different code. Have fun but don’t get too caught up in the hype unless he’s
playing for keeps.”

“Joey?” The somber tone wasn’t like her friend.

“My mom was pretty wild before she had me. She’s never gone
into detail, but I know she used to run with a biker gang.”

“What!”

“Yeah, why do you think I know so much about the lifestyle?
She’s tried to keep it from me, so I respect her choices. But I looked up
everything I can about the culture I’m pretty sure my father belongs to.”

“Holy shit, Joey.”

“Yeah. So I know firsthand, it’s not always a happy ending.”
Joey sighed. “Still, I have to admire my mom for living her life to the
fullest. It must’ve been incredible.” The wistful tone in Joey’s voice made
Juliette smile. The free-spirited artist took after her tattooed mother in more
ways than one, apparently.

“Like mother, like daughter.” Juliette said.

“Come on, we both know I’m her mini-me.” They laughed and
the mood lightened. “This stays between us, okay?” Joey asked.

“Of course.” Juliette’s head swam with the revelation. No
wonder her friend seemed a little M.C. obsessed. “Anyways this is probably a
test. That makes me nervous and the thought of wearing a swimsuit around him…”

“God I wish I could murder that asshole, Peter. You’re
beautiful my friend, nothing is wrong with you. You have a coke bottle figure
most girls would kill for. Wear that wicked two-piece, sailor-themed number we
picked out together.”

“And what do I wear over it?” Juliette asked, rummaging
through her dresser to pull out the swimsuit.

“Jeans and a tank top. Keep it simple, Jul. You don’t have
to be anything but yourself with Shooter. That’s how it should be.”

Joey’s words penetrated her panicked haze. Those two
sentences summed up everything. It felt natural with Shooter. Low pressure, fun
and scary, but in the good way.

“Damn Joey, when you’re right you’re right.”

“I keep telling you bitches that,” Joey said making her
laugh.

“Yes you do.” Juliette grinned. “Thanks again, I need to go
so I can get dressed.”

“Okay, have fun, and call me as soon as you get home. I need
all the details. I have to live vicariously through you.”

“Will do, can we keep this between us for now?” Juliette
tossed a pair of cut-off jeans on the bed and grabbed a black tank top.

“Always, now go make Momma proud,” Joey said. She hung up
and Juliette continued to laugh. Encouraged by the pep talk, she quickly
dressed, pulled her thick hair back into a high ponytail and made a dash for
the door. Today the only thing she needed to focus on was fun. The “f” word had
been severely lacking from her world.
Its time to get it back.
She left
the house, happy to make the final step of recovery, moving forward.

* * * * *

“Are you seriously bringing the bitch from the club to the
lake today?” Moose said as Shooter cleared out space in his saddlebag for her
things.

“Yeah, I told you that.” Shooter said, shaking his head.

“I thought you were kidding?”

“Why?” Shooter said.

“Cause you’re a cut-and-run kind of guy, and she’s a ring-and-wife
kind of girl,” Moose said.

“That’s your opinion of her so far. That girl has secrets in
her eyes, and I want to know all of them. “

“Are you kidding me with this shit?” Moose said. His eyes
were comically wide, reminding Shooter of the animal he’d been named for.

“Nope.”

“You sound hung up on this bitch already.”

“I’m interested, not hung up, there’s a huge difference.”
Shooter said walking to his room with Moose on his heels.

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Shooter dumped the clothing
onto his bed and left the room, locking it with his key. “Random and available
sloppy pussy got boring. I’ve had all the bitches in the club, and yeah, I
could bang new ones but what’s that going to change? At the end of the night
I’ll still come home to nothing.”

“ A week ago I would’ve agreed with you.” Shooter shrugged.

“What the fuck? I think those bitches are a coven, ’cause clearly
she’s cast a spell on you,” Moose said.

“No spell, brother, she just grabbed my attention and hasn’t
let go. Today we’ll see if she can handle it in our world. I’m going to go pick
her up. I’ll meet up with you at the lake.”

“All right,” Moose said, shaking his head as Shooter walked
from the club. His phone vibrated, and he removed it from his pocket, praying
it wasn’t an emergency situation that needed his immediate attention. The 513
area code made him roll his eyes.
No way am I letting this ruin my day.
He
hit Ignore, sending the call to his voice mail and continued to his bike.

 

He pulled up in front of the library twenty minutes later
and let out a wolf whistle when Juliette walked out of the building in a pair
of cut-off blue-jean shorts and a black tank top that showed off her breasts.

“Stop,” she said shyly as he laughed.

“Just showing appreciation for beauty.”

“Thank you.” She stopped in front of his bike.

“Let me guess, you’ve never ridden one before?”

“No.”

“Hand me your stuff and I’ll give you a crash course.” He
took her rolled-up towel and wallet, impressed with her ability to follow the
command to pack light. Securing his satchel, he sat up straight. “Okay, first
thing, put this on.” He handed her the matte-black helmet he’d brought just for
her. She put it on and latched the chin strap. “Good, now, these,” he pointed
to the silver prongs on the bike, “are pegs. Put one leg on, grab my shoulder,
and hoist yourself over. You can use them to rest your feet on while we ride.”
Her face took on a determined expression, all wrinkled brow and pursed lips. He
bit back his smile to keep from embarrassing her. “Ready?”

“Yep.” She gripped his shoulder tight, wobbling slightly as
she positioned herself on the back of his bike.

“Not bad for your first time,” he said.

“Thanks, this is incredibly awkward.”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it. The lake’s just about
twenty-five minutes from here, so the jelly leg you’ll get should be mild.”

“Jelly leg?”

“Yeah when you get off after your first long ride it’s like
having sea legs and stepping onto land.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t
worry, I won’t let you fall.”

The connection between them popped and crackled like wood in
a fire. He cleared his throat, holding her gaze. “Put your arms around my waist
and hold on tight. When I lean into a curve, you need to match my movement.
Other than that, try to get comfortable and enjoy the experience. You never
forget your first ride.”

“You got a thing about firsts. Makes me wonder about you,
Shooter.”

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