The Biker's Fate Chapter 182

On the dance floor, men in barely-scuffed cowboy boots and giant pristine hats who'd probably never seen a horse, let alone ridden one, danced with dressed-to-the nines women, their hair in various stages of height.

I wrinkled my nose as Mack pushed open a door marked "private," and tugged me into a large VIP-looking room. A bar sat along the back wall and the outer walls had intimate booths. Some were barely big enough for two, others large enough to seat ten, and there was a dance floor in the middle, although no one was dancing. Once the door was closed behind us, the music from the club ceased to exist and I let out a breath of relief. I noticed a jukebox over by the bar, and there was a song playing (not as loud as in the main bar), but it was rock. Rock-n-roll I could handle.

A lot of seriously gorgeous man meat milled around the room in vests and jeans. Some were deep in conversation while smoking and drinking, others were in booths playing poker or making out with the few women who were there. I smiled at the calmer atmosphere. Now, this was my kind of crew.

"Come meet my brothers," Mack said, and took my hand again, heading toward the tables.

"Actual brothers or club brothers?"

He chuckled. "Club brothers."

"Oh. Okay."

A man with well-worn cowboy boots met my eyes as we approached and my stomach flip-flopped. God, he was gorgeous. Tall, really tall. Probably six-and-a-half feet. Delicious. I was tall, six feet or more, depending on the heel, but it was hard to find a man who matched my height (who wasn't a stick). This gorgeous piece of ass was built perfectly.

His slow smile indicated I may have stared a little too long, but I didn't really care as I smiled back. Mack was cute and all, but this man... he was someone I could have some real fun with... provided he quit looking into my soul. That was a little disconcerting.

"Knight," the gorgeous man said, reaching out his hand toward me.

"Kim," I replied, shaking it.

"That's good enough." Mack pulled my hand from Knight's and I rolled my eyes.

Irritation crossed Knight's face, but not for long and the next hour or so was spent laughing, drinking, and dare I say, dancing. Knight and one other guy, Flea I think his name was, danced with me, but Mack refused. It was a blast... well, it was until Mack got a call from Booker and my night was blown up... again.

"Babe, we need to go," Mack said, ominously.

I frowned. "What, why?"

"Got an issue."

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"You got a key to Dani's place?"

"Um, yes, why?"

"On you?"

"Yes. It's on my key ring. Why?"

"We need to go and pack her a bag," Mack said. "She's gonna be staying with Booker for a bit."

I grabbed his arm. "What's going on, Mack?"

"Problem?" Knight asked from behind me. So close, in fact, if I'd stepped back, I would have bumped into him.

"Dani's gonna stay with Booker for a while," Mack said to Knight, not me, jerk.

Knight frowned. "Shit, seriously?"

"What is going on?" I snapped.

"How about I take Kim where she needs to go?" Knight offered. "You take Booker's back."

"You okay with that?" Mack asked me.

"Am I okay with what?"

"Going with Knight. We just said that," Mack said, sounding irked.

Now I was pissed. "Oh, right, sorry. Obviously, I didn't understand the question the first time because you're speaking as though I'm not here!"

Mack gave me a quirky smile. "Right, so it's all good."

"Jackass," I hissed under my breath.

"I'll text you the info," Mack said to Knight, clearly ignoring me again, and walked away.

Knight smiled at me. "Ready?"

I forced myself not to curse as I followed him out of the club. He opened the passenger door to a beat up old pickup truck and I slid inside, surprisingly comforted by the smell of horses. I currently owned an Arabian gelding and competed in every local show available. My life could only have been described as tumultuous and horses had been my refuge and, on occasion, my savior. The smell instantly calmed me as Knight climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked.

"Waitin' on Booker or Mack to tell me, sugar."

"Right," I conceded. "I'm surprised you don't have a bike."

He smiled. "I do, but outside of the fact it's too wet to ride, I had a group class out at a dairy farm, so needed to bring more than the bike could carry."

"Group class?"

He nodded, pulling out of the parking lot. "I'm in vet school."

"Oh, wow. Really? That's cool."

"Yeah?"

I nodded. "I ride horses. I compete with my Arabian."

"Great horses."

"Definitely. I'll never own anything other than an Arabian now. He's the best."

"Where am I taking you?" he asked.

I gave him the address for Dani's apartment and we headed toward the freeway.

"You ride English?" he asked.

I smiled. "How'd you guess?"

He smiled. "Shot in the dark."

"Do you ride?"

"All my life," he said.

"Let me guess, you're some kind of cowboy." I nodded toward his feet. "I can tell by your boots."

"Nah, although, I've rustled some cattle in my day," he said. "I ride mostly Western, but I've been known to put a horse through dressage or jumping exercises every now and then."

"Really? That surprises me."

"It doesn't matter what tack you put on a horse, they should all be able to respond to your commands and move between both disciplines."

"I guess that's true. Although, if you tried to put a Western saddle on my Arabian, he might kick you."

Knight laughed. "Sounds like he's perfect for you."

"Because he's ornery?"

"Did I say that?" he asked in mock offense.