“What did you do to him?”

“Not a thing.”

Jake came around the corner, “What in hell?”

“You better take him, Jake.” Sara handed over the leash.

Jake took it, but didn’t leave immediately. “You sure y’all be okay?” He sized Zach up with narrowed eyes. “Randy don’t usually act like this, ‘cept when he don’t like somebody.”

“I’m fine. Really. Thanks, Jake.”

Jake gave Zach one more nasty look, and dragged the whimpering Randy back around the concrete wall.

“I’ve never seen Randy act like that.” She looked at Zach, “He really hated you.”

“But I’m so charming.”

Sara gave a short laugh, “Yeah. Right.” She headed back to the store. “So, why are you here?”

“Julie’s new bike. I need to get it.”

“Well, then, come on.”

***

Zach had caught her scent as soon as he’d gotten out of the pickup truck the Pack brought with them just for hauling stuff around in. He’d followed it to the side of the shop, but never expected to find her lathering up some pit bull. Shamelessly, in fact.

Who’s my good boy? Was she kidding? Hell, he could be her good boy. Her very good boy. Or her very bad one.

As he watched her tight ass move into the store, he could tell one of Marrec’s Pack—Jake, right?—was watching him. He turned and snarled at the nosy bastard, sending his weak-willed pit bull whimpering for safety and causing Jake’s eyes to shift away.

When he turned around, Sara was staring at him. “Did you just… snarl?”

“I have a cough.”

“A snarling cough?”

“Something like that.”

Looking truly distrusting, Sara went into the store and Zach followed behind her. “MARREC!” Sara screamed into the back. “Someone’s here to pick up that girl’s bike!”

“Gimme 10 minutes!” Marrec yelled back.

As she perched herself on the stool behind the counter, she caught Zach’s look. “What?”

“Are you always so loud?”

“You’d be amazed.”

Zach smiled, “Kind of a screamer?”

She blushed and rolled her eyes. “Cute.”

He liked it when she blushed.

Zach leaned against the glass case. “You and your friends definitely coming tonight, right?”

Before Sara could answer, Marrec yelled out from the back, “Yes she is!”

“He doesn’t think I get out enough.” Sara muttered quietly

“Do you?”

“Not lately. Death in the family a few months back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. No one else is.” Sara winced, “Okay. That was bitchy. Forget I said that. I mean, she wasn’t that bad.”

“Who?” Although he already knew.

“My grandmother. She raised me… sort of. Died about six months back. The last few months I’ve been busy sorting out all her finances and business. I just finished cleaning out her house a few weeks back… well, I guess it’s my house now.”

“Find anything cool? When my father died, my mom and I found a ton of cool stuff at their place.”

“Some. Had to give a lot of it back to the government, though.”

Zach frowned, “Give what back to the government? Money?”

“No.” She started counting off on her fingers, “The M-16. The armor-piercing ammo. The rocket launcher. The grenades.”

“Your grandmother had a rocket launcher?”

Sara chuckled, “Apparently she was expecting some kind of attack. She was extremely paranoid. I don’t even know where she got that shit from. And you know what, I don’t wanna know.”

No wonder the Pride had waited until the old bitch died. Even they couldn’t have handled a full-on assault from military weapons. Yates hadn’t been kidding. That old woman had been truly dangerous.

“Did you get any money for that stuff?”

“No. I just wanted it gone. I have my daddy’s old shotgun, which I use for huntin’. And Miki and Angelina gave me a pump-action shotgun couple of years ago for ‘basic home defense.’” She smiled, “So, I don’t need much more than that.”

“You a good shot?”

“I’m okay. Miki’s better. I’ve seen her nail a buck at 200 feet. Right between the eyes.”

“That’s a lovely story. Learn that in etiquette school?”

“Texas etiquette school.”

He liked that too. She didn’t shrink away from his teasing. Or get insulted. She just rolled with it.

“You work here long?” He looked around the impressive store. Marrec did some amazing work. There were custom-made bikes here that he knew he’d seen on the pages of some of his chopper magazines. They weren’t just bikes. They were pieces of art.

“Since I was 14. Marrec said it would keep me off the streets.”

Zach glanced out the window to what had to be the quietest town he’d ever been in. “Big gang problem around here? Lots of cow jacking?”

“We have all sorts pass through our little town, thank you very much. Bikers. Cowboys. The always dangerous rodeo clowns.”

“Rodeo clowns?”

“Don’t ask.”

Zach shrugged. “I don’t want to know.”