The double entendre, reminding her of the times when they had made love for hours, made awareness rush through her. Barely aware of what she did, Kara licked her lips. Then as the other bikers laughed and hooted, she stepped back, horrified at her reaction.
“You’re despicable,” she muttered.
Jace pulled away, but in his deep blue eyes, she saw a hint of something of the old Jace. Shame.
He laughed and took her hand, unfurled her palm and gestured to the bikers.
“Anyone got a pen?”
Hoots and whistles, as a biker rushed over with a pen. A thrill of awareness and fear rushed through her as Jace scribbled a phone number on her open hand.
“Here’s my number, sweetheart. Give me a call if you want a nice, long ride all night long.” He released her hand, winked at her.
Clenching her fist, she turned and hurried to her car. Behind her, whoops and hollers from Jace’s friends.
Jace had been different. Courteous, friendly and never this abusive. Always tender and passionate, and their sex life had been amazing, but never crude or base.
Her entire body went cold. The delight of closing on a major deal turned to bitterness.
She, who never drove fast, pressed her foot on the gas pedal and tore out of the parking lot. She needed to go home, where she’d be safe in her house, her world.
Leaving behind the new, ugly Jace and his world. I hope I never see you again.
It hurt to watch her drive away, see a glint of tears on those perfect cheeks, knowing he’d made her cry. Jace grinned and slapped Lance’s back, hating himself. Why the hell did Kara have to show up now, of all times?
But he saw a new expression on Lance’s face—respect. Lance admired him because Kara was his ex-girlfriend. How screwed up is this?
“Man, she’s gorgeous. I saw the way she looked at you, like she couldn’t wait to get into bed with you. I bet you five hundred dollars she calls you.”
His grin slipped. “She won’t.”
Not if I can help it. I hope she goes on a business trip and doesn’t return until after this assignment ends. I don’t want her anywhere near you assholes.
Lance narrowed his gaze. “You never date. You don’t have an old lady. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jace sucked in a breath. Damn. He had to say something, quick. Excuses, excuses...
“You saw her.” Jace shrugged. “Nothing compares to Kara. Hard to get over her.”
“Huh.” Lance slapped his back. “Go after her. Women can’t resist bikers. They all secretly want us. But remember, club loyalty comes first. Show up at the den tonight at seven. Have the club rules memorized.”
Jace’s grin widened. He felt sick to his stomach.
My old man would be proud.
For that, Jace hated himself, hated this assignment. But he was in. Right now, all he wanted to do was race home, jump in the shower and scrub away all his disgust. Get clean.
He knew he could never erase the stain of his past. No matter what.
Chapter 3
Magnolia Shores, Florida
Two months later
This motorcycle was proving to need more repairs than the customer had indicated. Jace picked up a socket wrench. It was Thursday, and the customer wanted the bike by tomorrow for a big trip he’d planned for the weekend.
As a full-fledged member of the Devil’s Patrol, Jace had made himself as useful as possible. The club liked his knowledge of bikes and how he had doubled business—legitimate business—at Al’s Body Shop, the garage the club owned.
Thanks to his old man, he knew a lot about fixing bikes and cars. Not that Jace ever expected to see his old man again. Hell, he’d hoped as much. Considering Albert Beckett was imprisoned, his wistful thinking was valid.
All his hopes died a quick death when he went to get a part from a shelf and felt a strange prickling at the back of his head.
A warning.
“Hey, you work here?”
He’d know that deep voice, raspy from all those years of smoking, anywhere. The old man wasn’t in prison anymore.
Heart hammering against his chest, he waited a minute. Couldn’t show any emotion. No anger. Certainly no fear. Jace nodded but did not turn around.
“Al’s Body Shop. They named it after me, you know. I was damn good with fixing things when I was with the Devil’s Patrol.”
Jace’s hand tightened on the wrench he’d grabbed off the shelf. His knuckles whitened. A chill ran down his spine. Knew his past would catch up to him, but did it have to be this soon? Why the hell did his old man have to get paroled early?
He headed back to the bike, keeping his head down.
“Any chance Walt’s still around? He used to work here.”
