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Authors: Ginger Voight
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trailed off. Their turbulent history lay between them, as always.
“I guess you’ll just have to work really hard to make it up to me,” he said softly.
She happily responded with a kiss. He closed his arms around her waist, practically lifting her off the floor as he took immediate possession of her mouth. She melted against him with a soft moan.
When they rejoined Baby in the bar, she had already scarfed down half her bowl of chili. Jack, their resident playboy, had immediately filled the seat next to her to work on his A-game with the newest female. He realized his error as M.J. approached. “Back off, Jack. She’s underage.”
He held up his hands. He knew better than to pick a fight with the feisty redhead, who wasn’t called a “force of nature” for nothing. “No need to get testy.” He turned to Baby with a teasing pout. “You didn’t tell me you were underage.”
“You never gave me the chance,” Baby pointed out.
Snake laughed. “Now that’s a girl that speaks her mind. I like you already,” he told her with another wink. “Just give me about twenty to finish up a few things and then we can get out of here.”
Baby’s eyes widened. “Where are we going?”
Snake glanced between Baby and M.J. “Home,” he finally declared.
Baby opened her mouth, but no refusal was forthcoming. She couldn’t go back to the streets. She had had two brushes with disaster within the last twenty-four hours. She knew better than to press her luck with a third. And something told her she was completely safe with Snake. She wasn’t as sure about the redhead at his side, especially after seeing what she did to those scary men in the alley. M.J. was easily the most unpredictable woman Baby had ever met, which made her almost a threat by default.
But what choice did she have, really?
She finished her chili and crackers. She’d sucked down three sodas to fend off its five-alarm hot pepper, as well as her dry mouth from her earlier high. True to his word, Snake was ready to go shortly after. He shrugged on a jacket similar to the one M.J. had loaned her, and she followed them both on shaking legs to the parking lot. Without being told, she climbed aboard M.J.’s bike and waited.
Snake led the way on his chopper. Baby secured her loaner helmet, then clasped her arms around M.J.’s waist as the bike thundered to life underneath them. They eased out into traffic behind him.
As they raced along the tangle of the Los Angeles freeways, the air against Baby’s face slowly brought her to life again, mile by mile. She could feel her past fly away, like she was shedding her skin, leaving only the new person underneath. She didn’t know who Baby was yet, but as she clung tightly to her new benefactor, it was clear that she had some biker blood in her. Without question, her spirit was reborn on the ride.
They finally rumbled to a stop in front of a two-story Craftsman home in Pasadena. Though the house had been built in 1922, it had been lovingly preserved. The lawn was landscaped with bright flowers and lush, vibrant greenery. Regal palms towered overhead, and flowers were planted deep in earthy terra-cotta planters along the long porch and the driveway, where a brand-new truck sat. It boasted a company name on its side: SCOGGINS AUTOMOTIVE & MOTORCYCLE REPAIR. They maneuvered beside the truck toward the garage in back, where both riders parked their bikes.
Baby followed Snake and M.J. toward the back door of the darkened home. She was understandably nervous, especially since her new hosts were quiet as they entered the house. It seemed safe enough, but so had a mansion in the Hollywood Hills.
She cringed when she thought about it. She couldn’t help but wonder how Tammy and Billy had paid the price for her departure. The stress and the guilt made the spicy chili in her stomach clamor to make an encore appearance.
She shielded her eyes as Snake flipped on the bright lights in a spotless kitchen. The outer wall
“I guess you’ll just have to work really hard to make it up to me,” he said softly.
She happily responded with a kiss. He closed his arms around her waist, practically lifting her off the floor as he took immediate possession of her mouth. She melted against him with a soft moan.
When they rejoined Baby in the bar, she had already scarfed down half her bowl of chili. Jack, their resident playboy, had immediately filled the seat next to her to work on his A-game with the newest female. He realized his error as M.J. approached. “Back off, Jack. She’s underage.”
He held up his hands. He knew better than to pick a fight with the feisty redhead, who wasn’t called a “force of nature” for nothing. “No need to get testy.” He turned to Baby with a teasing pout. “You didn’t tell me you were underage.”
“You never gave me the chance,” Baby pointed out.
Snake laughed. “Now that’s a girl that speaks her mind. I like you already,” he told her with another wink. “Just give me about twenty to finish up a few things and then we can get out of here.”
Baby’s eyes widened. “Where are we going?”
Snake glanced between Baby and M.J. “Home,” he finally declared.
Baby opened her mouth, but no refusal was forthcoming. She couldn’t go back to the streets. She had had two brushes with disaster within the last twenty-four hours. She knew better than to press her luck with a third. And something told her she was completely safe with Snake. She wasn’t as sure about the redhead at his side, especially after seeing what she did to those scary men in the alley. M.J. was easily the most unpredictable woman Baby had ever met, which made her almost a threat by default.
But what choice did she have, really?
She finished her chili and crackers. She’d sucked down three sodas to fend off its five-alarm hot pepper, as well as her dry mouth from her earlier high. True to his word, Snake was ready to go shortly after. He shrugged on a jacket similar to the one M.J. had loaned her, and she followed them both on shaking legs to the parking lot. Without being told, she climbed aboard M.J.’s bike and waited.
Snake led the way on his chopper. Baby secured her loaner helmet, then clasped her arms around M.J.’s waist as the bike thundered to life underneath them. They eased out into traffic behind him.
As they raced along the tangle of the Los Angeles freeways, the air against Baby’s face slowly brought her to life again, mile by mile. She could feel her past fly away, like she was shedding her skin, leaving only the new person underneath. She didn’t know who Baby was yet, but as she clung tightly to her new benefactor, it was clear that she had some biker blood in her. Without question, her spirit was reborn on the ride.
They finally rumbled to a stop in front of a two-story Craftsman home in Pasadena. Though the house had been built in 1922, it had been lovingly preserved. The lawn was landscaped with bright flowers and lush, vibrant greenery. Regal palms towered overhead, and flowers were planted deep in earthy terra-cotta planters along the long porch and the driveway, where a brand-new truck sat. It boasted a company name on its side: SCOGGINS AUTOMOTIVE & MOTORCYCLE REPAIR. They maneuvered beside the truck toward the garage in back, where both riders parked their bikes.
Baby followed Snake and M.J. toward the back door of the darkened home. She was understandably nervous, especially since her new hosts were quiet as they entered the house. It seemed safe enough, but so had a mansion in the Hollywood Hills.
She cringed when she thought about it. She couldn’t help but wonder how Tammy and Billy had paid the price for her departure. The stress and the guilt made the spicy chili in her stomach clamor to make an encore appearance.
She shielded her eyes as Snake flipped on the bright lights in a spotless kitchen. The outer wall
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