I stared at her in surprise. “You remember that?”

She nodded. “You were the first person besides my mom to call me that.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She always said I looked exotic like Olivia Hussey—the girl who played Juliet in the 1968 movie version of Romeo and Juliet.” At what must’ve been my blank expression, she added, “Sorry, I must be the only one to remember the play and the movie from high school.”

With a sheepish look, I said, “I dropped out in ninth grade.” Before Samantha could say anything, I quickly added, “But I got my GED last year.”

“Good for you.”

“Thanks. I was tired of being a loser.”

“You could never be a loser, Bishop. You have too much drive and ambition.”

“I didn’t always. I was pretty much a lazy drunk when I was a teenager,” I admitted.

“It’s hard for me to imagine you like that.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t pretty. I gave my poor parents hell with all the trouble I got in.”

“What turned you around?”

“My old man. He had me start prospecting at eighteen so that I could have some direction.” Shaking my head with a smile, I said, “In some ways being in an MC is like going into the military, and the prospecting period is like boot camp. Being disciplined by all the men I knew and admired really helped to put me in my place.”

Samantha’s expression turned serious. “Can you ever imagine not being part of the MC?”

I shook my head. “Nope. It’s not only in my blood, but it’s the only world I’ve known. Plus, it’s how I met you.”

She gave me a small smile. “That’s true.”

“Don’t worry, Sam. The MC world isn’t going to bury me until I’m an old man.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“We won’t be living by violence anymore, so we can’t die that way.”

“That’s a very interesting concept. One that I hope is true.”

“You just have to trust me.”

Something flared in her eyes. After staring at me for a few seconds, she finally replied, “I’ll try.”

I smiled at her. “Forget about your feelings for the MC world and just enjoy tonight. Enjoy dancing with me.”

“I am. I really am.”

“I’m glad, because I am, too.”

A teasing smile played on Samantha’s lips. “The first time I ever laid eyes on you was when you were dancing.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

She bobbed her head. “I say dancing—but it was really more like humping on the dance floor.”

I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s the only real dancing I know how to do.”

“You’re not so bad with the slow, non-humping kind.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As I stared intently at Samantha, I said, “I really like dancing with you.”

“You said that already,” she murmured, gazing into my eyes.

“I wanted to say it again because I really meant it—it wasn’t just some bullshit line.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. More than just dancing, I like being with you. I like the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, how you don’t take any of my bullshit, and how you keep me on my toes. Most of all, I like how I feel I can tell you anything.”

Samantha’s tongue darted out to lick her lips. Although it seemed like a nervous gesture, it caused my dick to jump in my pants. “I feel the same way about you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

As the song came to an end, Samantha kept herself flush against me. Neither one of us seemed to want to move. We wanted to stay right there in the moment.

And I knew then there was no turning back.

FOURTEEN

SAMANTHA

As Bishop and I finished our slow dance, we headed back to the picnic tables. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fight the overwhelming feelings swelling in my chest. It had been such an eye-opening evening—meeting his mom, hanging out with the other Raiders women, and then seeing him interact with his brothers. I had come to see him in an entirely different light than before. It made the line I had tried to draw between us even more difficult to maintain.

“Thirsty?” Bishop asked as I took a seat.

“Yes. I’d love a beer.”

He grinned. “Give me two seconds.” He then trotted off to the drink table. After grabbing a few beers, he hurried back. “Here you go.”

“What excellent service. Should I tip you?”

“I could think of several ways you could pay me back,” he replied as he took a few long swigs.

“Are you alluding to what I think you are?”

He shrugged. “Maybe . . . Maybe not.” When I cocked my head at him, he winked at me and then launched into a conversation with Boone about the latest fights down at the gym. It gave me ample time to do a little thinking about what my next move should be, which was both good and bad.

Gavin’s words came back to me, as if he were sitting right beside me. Even though it’s frowned upon, I see nothing wrong with getting a good fuck or two out of him to gain information. The problem was, I wasn’t sure it was just for information. I had developed a need for Bishop. After sucking down the beer, I made up my mind to stop with the teasing and innuendo. It was time to act. Would he want me, though?

I rose off the picnic bench. As I set my longneck down, I could feel Bishop’s eyes burning into my back. When I glanced at him over my shoulder, his eyebrows rose questioningly. Slowly, I turned around. As I met his blazing baby blues, I held out my hand. His body shuddered slightly before he leaned up to put his hand in mine. I tugged him up off the bench, pulling him close to me. His warm breath against my cheek caused me to shiver with building anticipation. “What are you doing, Sam?”