Bikers and Pearls by Vicki Wilkerson Read Free Book Online

acknowledge a thing.
    She gazed at Bull briefly to completely see what Charles had just seen. Bull’s appearance was discomfiting. Discomfiting and insanely handsome. She moved her head to break the
     spell. “I do have that list for you, though.” She reached into her desk drawer, pulled
     out a folder, and gave him a copy.
    He perused it with great interest. And she perused that jawline of his again. His
     skin was taut and slightly tanned—and it was only March.
    She hoped he wouldn’t notice something on the spreadsheet, but then he asked, “What’s
     this?”
    “What?” she asked as innocently as she could, fidgeting with the strand of pearls
     around her neck.
    “Your address and number. It’s your work address.”
    “Well, I’m here about as much as I am at ho—”
    “Don’t. Don’t explain.” He shook his head and looked around her office. His gaze settled
     on the sign on her desk. “Look. Miss…Risk-Assessment-Manager.” His words sounded like
     an indictment. “The Angels are out of town. And none of the rest of us bikers want
     any blood, you know.”
    “I don’t think you understand.” How could she possibly tell him all about how her
     little head had thudded on the dashboard? How all the glass had twinkled as it rained
     down on her? And how the sounds her father had made when he was beaten that night
     still woke her up sometimes?
    Bull probably wouldn’t buy into her reticence. Because she knew that all bikers weren’t
     drunken brawlers. In her head she knew that. Heck, she insured regular bikers every day—just not gang members who
     had a pile of DUIs so high she couldn’t reach.
    He held up his hand as if to stop her again. “Look, I know you need to—” He glanced
     around the room. “Type something or pretend to type something or who knows whatever
     Mr. Brooks Brothers said.” He paused. “Anyway. This all appears to be a little too,
     um…difficult for you. So why don’t you let me handle the advertising on my own. I
     thought that we could plan the rally together, but I don’t think this is going to
     work out.”
    April was uncomfortable, but she remembered Mr. Houseman’s words. She needed to be
     an example and to represent the Humanity Project. And she needed to distance herself
     from the emotions she’d attached to that motorcycle wreck so many years ago.
    She walked from behind the safety of her desk. She picked up a pen and tapped it on
     the wooden edge. “I gave my word. I said that I would help. What do we do next?”
    He ran his fingers through his untamed locks. “So, you’re sure about wanting to help?”
    April folded her arms. “Yes. I need to help.”
    “Well, in that case… I thought we’d make some fliers this evening. The computers at
     the garage where I work are down for maintenance, so we can’t do it there. What about
     your place?”
    Her head spun, searching for alternate locations. There was no way she was going to
     take a chance like that—letting a virtual stranger into her home—even if the guy did
     seem nice. Still, he was a risk taker, and she couldn’t forget that.
    “What about the library?” That was about as safe as a person could get. A public library.
     “They have everything we’ll need for fliers. We can do all the printing there also.”
    He arched his brow. She knew what he was thinking. His skeptical look told her that
     he knew she was concerned to be alone with him. But who in her right mind wouldn’t
     be? She’d known him for less than twenty-four hours. Even if Mr. Houseman did know him. She didn’t.
    “Fine. Say six thirty?”
    “Six thirty.” She nodded.
    He took one step out of her office cubical, turned, and said, “I’m not going to bite
     you, ya know.”
    She closed her eyes. Biting . An image of him nibbling at her neck took her by surprise and she dropped her pen.
    She startled and opened her lids. He was far more dangerous than she had first imagined.
     Even her thoughts weren’t