Thick (Diamondback MC 8) - Page 4

“Fuck my life,” I say under my breath as I watch Aly head to where Valentina is studying the merchandise like it’s the only thing in her atmosphere. I move to where the vendor is selling boots, pretending like I might need a pair while keeping my ears open.

“Hey, Tina. I’m going to hang with Merle. Do you have your phone handy?” Aly asks.

“Hey, yeah, I have it. Be safe, okay?” Valentina’s voice isn’t like what I’ve heard when she’s alone in the house, and believe me, I’ve heard it plenty of times, listening and watching the video feed we have. There are different variations of her tones, from apprehensive to relieved, then to happiness when it’s just her alone. Right now, it’s definitely one of worry.

“I will. See you later!” She hugs her. It doesn’t last long, and then Aly is bouncing away and Merle is happily watching her strut his way. This girl, she’s completely fucked, leaving her friend to get her rocks off. Maybe it is a good idea that this plan came to fruition. At least with me, she won’t be hurt… too much.

4

VALENTINA

Okay, I’m not an idiot. I knew Aly was out on the prowl. What I didn’t know was that she would leave me literally twenty minutes into arriving. Lesson learned there, I guess. Instead, I walk out of the tent Aly left me in, making my way to another beer tent. After that, I’ll find some food. That way, I’m not getting drunk off a few beers on an empty stomach. That would be completely dumb on my part. My eyes roam over the throngs of people, couples walking together, an arm slung off a woman, her hand in the back pocket of his jeans. It makes me miss what could have been if Brock weren’t such a dick and my life weren’t such a mess.

“Can I get a Michelob Ultra?” I ask the lady manning the beer stand behind a makeshift bar top.

“Sure can. Draft or can?” She has a nice smile, but you can tell she’s hustling her ass off to make money.

“Can, please,” I say just as I’m interrupted.

“Put that on my tab, Shelby.” A man walks up beside me, voice deep and with a slight grouse in his tone, as if he’s annoyed with himself for offering to pay for my drink.

“You don’t have to do that.” My body is moving to see who this irritated man is, and boy does the wind get knocked out of my sails. He may sound irritated by the rumble in his voice, but the man standing beside me, not too close and not too far away, is beyond pleasing to the eye. He’s tall, so damn tall that even in the cute booties I’m wearing, which add a few inches to my five-foot-five frame, I still have to look way the heck up. My eyes zero in on his arm, the one that’s wrapped in tattoos. Intricate designs swirl together, and a skull appears from the bottom of his sleeve, peeking out. Smoke swirls with other designs down to his wrist, which is wrapped in leather. His hands are massive, and he’s got a couple of black metal rings on his fingers. Nothing on that all so important finger. When I watch as the bartender places our drinks on the bar, his hand wraps around the can of Miller Lite, which finally makes me pay attention to other things than the man beside me.

“Know that. I wanted to.” I take my beer, holding it with two hands while I take him in from head to toe. A bandana is wrapped around his head, right above his eyebrows, and sunglasses shield the color of his eyes. He’s got a smooth jaw and a slight grin on his lips.

“Thank you.” I hold my hand out. “I’m Valentina,” I tell him. I watch as he takes a long drink of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing as he does so, leading down to what I can tell is a muscular chest by the way of his arms. There’s a slight roundness to his abdomen. This guy is definitely rocking the dad bod.

“Bullet, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The small grin turns into a real smile this time, showing straight teeth encompassed by full lips, and for the first time since long before my divorce, I feel a spark.

“Likewise.” I take a sip of my beer, only liking it when it’s ice cold. Towards the end of the drink is when I’ll throw it away. A warm drink is nasty to me.

“You here with friends or by yourself?” he asks. Usually, my weirdo radar would be sticking straight up like it was with Aly’s friend, Merle. That dude was something else, for sure a man who thinks he’s the shit and that the world is his oyster, or Aly’s oyster for the time being.

Tags: Tory Baker Diamondback MC Romance
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