“I surely do,” Dutch was saying. “I can make you one if you like.”
“Oh, no,” Alexa said, giving a quick shake of her head. “I don’t think I can eat anything now. But another time.”
“You know where to find me,” he said with a wink.
“It’s time,” Caine said, icy blue eyes flashing.
“Let’s do this,” Phoenix said. “Fucking Slater.”
“Fucking Slater,” Jagger groused. Of anyone, Jag probably had to deal with Slater’s bullshit the most. The wealthy prick hated the racetrack because it hurt his home-building business, or so he argued. He was constantly making noise—with the mayor, the city council, the sheriffs, the press—that the Green Valley Race Track was bad for Frederick. Occasionally, Slater managed to stir something up that would bring the sheriffs sniffing around. Once, he almost had the city council agree to debate zoning ordinances that would’ve seriously hampered the Ravens’ business. And every time, Jagger had to deal with the brunt of the bullshit. Of all of them, the guy was probably the hardest to ruffle and the smoothest talker, and he’d memorized all the relevant rules, policies, and laws pertaining to the track like the brilliant motherfucker he was, so he thwarted Slater at pretty much every turn. It was a thing of beauty.
So Maverick nodded, joining in with the sentiment. “Fucking Slater.” Everyone got up from their stools and moved toward the doors. Toward Alexa.
“Before we go,” she said, bringing all the guys to a halt. Maverick eyed her, no idea what was about to come out of her mouth. “I just want to say thank you. For being here for me. And for Maverick. I know you’re mostly here because he asked you, but I wanted to tell you that I appreciate it, too. I know I flaked after Tyler died”—she paused like it took something out of her to say her brother’s name—“and I’m sorry for that. But that was more about me than it was about you. So, yeah, that’s all I wanted to say.”
“We’re doing this for both of you,” Phoenix said, giving her a flirty smile that under other circumstances Mav might’ve wanted to knock off his face. “Don’t you worry none.” The other men nodded.
Jagger rubbed her arm. “Losing Tyler was a damn shame, Alexa. We all regretted it. You were allowed to be messed up by that. No apologies needed here.”
The men filed out, offering kind words that made Maverick proud to be one of them. Taking Alexa’s hand, he squeezed. “Thank you for that.”
“It was the least I could do,” she said, her expression uncertain, maybe even a little overwhelmed. Had she expected them to do anything other than appreciate her gratitude?
He leaned down to look her in the eyes. “No, the least you could do was say nothing at all. Or, worse, disrespect them. Instead, you gave them your gratitude and respect. In our world, that means a helluva lot.” When she nodded, he turned to Dutch, who was clearing the counter of a few soda glasses and coffee cups. Maverick put a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks for always taking care of us, Dutch.”
“Always,” he said. It was just that simple. “Ride safe now.”
Maverick gave a wave over his shoulder as he guided Alexa out the door.
And then they were on their way, riding through town in four sets of two. Maverick and Alexa rode at the front of the group with Phoenix at their side. They roared into parking spaces right in front of the restaurant’s long windows. Eight Harleys. Eight bikers in full colors.
And what do you know? It was perfect timing. Because just then, Slater pulled up in his Mercedes and valeted the car. Alexa was standing at Mav’s side, and he could feel anxiety rolling off of her. He wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, reassure her, let her know that they’d be right there the whole time. But she knew that. They’d talked this through. And Maverick didn’t want to do anything that might cause her dinner companion to get any more pissed off than he already looked.
Without a word, Alexa made her way up the sidewalk toward the front door where Slater stood waiting, scowling, looking like he wanted to break something with his hands. None of the Ravens moved. They just stood there watching. When Mav and Alexa’s abusive prick of an ex made eye contact, Maverick arched a single brow. Touch her, hurt her, and I’ll fucking make you pay.
The guy’s face was red and his mouth was pressed into a tight line. He bit something out at Alexa that Mav couldn’t hear, and it took everything he had to keep his feet planted and let this bullshit play out. They disappeared inside, but only for a second. Because then they appeared in the window, visible behind the pale, sheer curtains. They stood there long enough that it seemed like some sort of debate was going on, and then Maverick smiled. Because they sat at one of the tables in clear view of the street. Of the Ravens. Just like they’d planned.