“I’m going to check your guided reading questions later, so make sure to put some effort into them.”
Erin smirked. “Like you’re gonna be back later.”
Touché.
“Okay, we’re leaving,” Sam said, striding toward Aidan and the door…and beyond, freedom.
“Bye, you two. Have a nice time!” Helen called after them.
When the door was shut, and they were alone, Aidan caught her around the waist and pulled her up against his chest. “You’re not wearing your glasses,” he said with boyish delight.
“I got contacts. Better?”
His smile twitched and he pressed her even closer. “Not better. You’re beautiful all the time.”
She kissed him. “Come on, Romeo, or we’ll be late.”
~*~
Sam had the sense of stepping back in time. Yes, there were cars, bikes, cell phones, stereos, electric lights. Yes, she smelled exhaust and the ribs that were already on the three massive outdoor grills. But the atmosphere within the chain link fences surrounding Dartmoor was nothing if not medieval.
King Arthur, and the Knights of the Outlaw Table.
“Crazy, huh?” Ava said, and Sam could only nod.
The bikes were lined up in a neat double row, Ghost’s alone up at the head, the others staggered behind it according to rank. The machines gleamed from fresh washings, the few traces of chrome catching fire in the light.
Men and women she didn’t recognize – club girls and hangarounds, Ava had explained – were stringing lights beneath the pavilion. Steel tubs awaited beer and ice. Fires were being prepared in the fifty-five gallon drums. Carved jack-o-lanterns were being placed carefully. The lot was filled with a bustling sense of preparation, a low-simmering excitement.
And then there were the Lean Dogs. An army in black leather, breathtaking in their understated ferocity.
Apparently, more out of town members had shown up just minutes before, and it was a surprise.
Ghost embraced a tall man, the stranger’s craggy face erupting with lines and wrinkles as he laughed. His bottom rocker proclaimed him from England.
Maggie smiled. “Phillip Calloway doesn’t come across the pond just for any old reason.” Her smile dimmed and she sighed. “Lord.”
“That’s the London president,” Ava explained to Sam…and also Holly and Emmie. The womenfolk stood beneath the portico, waiting for the guys to settle down and finally decide to get the show on the road. “He’s Walsh’s brother,” Ava continued. “Well, one of them.”
As they watched, Phillip pulled back from Ghost and then snatched up Walsh with one arm, reaching with the other for Shane.
Emmie watched the reunion with a pleased expression. “Fox came by the house yesterday morning. I told Walsh we ought to just save time and go ahead and have a family reunion.”
Maggie snorted. “How’d that idea go over?”
“Like a lead balloon.”
“Fox is the black sheep, from what I can tell,” Maggie said. “But they keep those secrets locked up tight. Ghost said it wasn’t his story to share.” Maggie glanced over at Emmie. “But I’m betting you could work it out of your man.”
Emmie nodded. “I intend to.”
In the milling crowd of Dogs, Sam sought Aidan with her eyes, smiling to herself when she found him. He stood with Tango, the best friends shoulder to shoulder, one dark-headed and feral, the other pale and pretty. Poor Kev; none of his piercings, clothes or hair spikes could do a thing to disguise his elfin appearance.
As if he sensed her stare, Aidan glanced over, the distance shrinking down to nothing as their eyes locked. His smile was devastating, turning her insides to mush, widening her smile into stupid territory. His effect on her was the same as it had always been – that gut-twisting, pulse-pounding heat that had swamped her since high school – but magnified by the physical, carnage knowledge that existed between them now.
The magic part, though, was the way she suddenly understood it. She’d always imagined she was a hopeless sap with a hopeless crush. But no, that wasn’t it. There was something real and viable between them, that perfect attraction of opposites who filled gaping holes in one another. They had each lived half-lives.
Until now.
