Burning Ember by Darby Briar Page A

“Not a good idea, Lil’.”
    She bites her lip and mutters, “Right, I guess not.”
    Some emotion flickers over Dozer’s face, but it’s gone before I can decipher it. “If you get a job, you’ll have to clean early, do breakfast, and lunch around noon. Then most of us aren’t around until late for dinner, so just make sure you make it clear when you can work and when you can’t. Also, you’ll need to be here for club events.”
    “Okay.” I doubt an employer is going to be able to work with those hours and I can’t help but feel a little defeated.
    I pick up a chip and munch on it. One bite and I’m in heaven. The salty flavor bursts on my tongue and I close my eyes for a moment and savor it. My stomach growls between the first bite and the second.
    Dozer watches me.
    I dig into my sandwich next. After I swallow the first bite, I try to distract him for watching me eat. “You know, I didn’t know a biker could be such a nice guy.”
    He gives me a wicked grin. “Don’t go spreadin’ it around. I have a reputation to uphold.”
    The red-haired, older biker with a long beard comes over and takes Dozer’s attention away, which gives me time to finish my food. When I’ve eaten every last crumb, I push the plate forward.
    Dozer glances over to me. “You were fuckin’ starvin’, huh?”
    I grimace and wipe my mouth. “Sorry, was it that noticeable? And here I was trying to eat like a lady.”
    The red-haired biker raises an eyebrow. “You full, sweetheart? ‘Cause if not, I could get Rigor to round ya up some more. I’m Griz, by the way.” He holds out his hand to me and I shake it.
    I’m feeling overly stuffed. My stomach’s shrunk in the last month. It’s down to the size of a tennis ball. “Thanks, but I don’t think I can eat another bite.”
    He smiles and his smile even reaches his soft hazel eyes. “Us gingers gotta stick together. You need anything, darlin’, you let me know.” He picks up my hand and kisses it, which earns him some hooting and hollering from the peanut gallery around us, before he drops my hand and walks away.
    Dozer turns to me. “See, we’re not all assholes.”
    “I see that. Thanks for giving me a chance.” And I mean it. It’s nice to have someone on my side. Makes me feel like I’m not an inch small anymore.
    “You’re welcome.”
    “You know, you’re built like an ox, but I’m starting to think maybe you’re a big ol’ softy.”
    Two seats down from me, Goose spits beer out all over the bar. Then I realize what I said and how it could be misconstrued.
    Laughter rings out around us again. Jeezus . . . did I really just say that?
    Dozer flashes a flirtatious smile. He yanks my chair closer. “Softy, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. Tell you what . . . in thirteen days, I’ll make sure to introduce you to some of my harder parts.”
    “Oh, God, I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
    He chucks my chin. “No really, it would be my pleasure.” He focuses on my lips. His hand rests on my thigh. He leans over and murmurs close to my ear, so only I can hear. “You’re gonna have the whole club house lined up to taste you by then. But, you can bet, I’ll be the first in line.”
    I bite my bottom lip and look up at him. He’s flirting with me and now is the time I have to start playing the part of the girl who wants to be here. With him. With a bunch of bikers.
    His steely eyes flare as they watch my mouth. “Yeah, you’re gonna be trouble.”
    I arch a brow. “And you’re not a fan of trouble?”
    His hand slides up my leg until his fingers breach the hem of my shorts. “Not usually, but I think I could get addicted to your kind of trouble.”
    We flirt for a few minutes. But eventually he groans and removes his hands from me. “Shit, you’re gettin’ me all worked up, babe. Not gonna end well for me.” He stands, laughs, and winks as he adjusts himself. Then he says, “Better get this part over with.” Spinning me around