WRECKED: CHOSEN FEW MC - BOOK TWO: OUTLAW BIKER/ALPHA ROMANCE by Nessa Connor Page A

tell whether he’s for that or against it.”
    “Anything besides crackpot politics?”
    “His wife died of cancer. Somehow he got it in his head that her cancer was a side effect of a government program. She was involved in some kind of experimental treatment that didn’t pan out. Right after her death he went a little nuts and was in an institution for a short time. They took note of his paranoid ideas but decided he was harmless, and functional enough to have custody of his kid. Since then, he’s been in a few bar fights, was arrested at some protest and then released—nothing to write home about.”
    Carly’s thin voice floated into the office. “Uncle Greg, how much torque do I give the head bolts on this engine?”
    “She’s taking point on Tiny’s bike,” Greg said by way of explanation. “Doing a fine job, too.” He turned to the door. “I’ll be right there, Princess. I don’t remember offhand either.”
    “Never mind.” She sounded disgusted. “I thought you’d know. I can find it in the shop manual all by myself.”
    Luc smiled. “When she takes over, things will be different around here. Real bad ass.”
    “Don’t I know it?” He got up and stretched. “Keep digging a bit for me will you? I better go fix something or she’ll be telling people she does all the work.”
    Luc laughed. “She does already. The only advantage you’ve got over her at the moment is that she’s not old enough to hang around the clubhouse drinking with the gang. I figure that gives you about six years before forced retirement. At the outside.”
    “If she wants it that bad, maybe I’ll give her the place and move to Mexico.”
    “With your teacher?”
    Greg grinned. “You too, Luc? What is it these days? The chatter around this motorcycle club is starting to sound like a soap opera.”
    “Okay, I’ll say it like a biker. Are you taking your pussy with you when you split?”
    “That’s better. The answer is: None of your fucking business.”
    Carly’s voice came into the office again. “I can hear you assholes cussing loud and clear in here.”
    Luc blushed. “Damn. Caught out being bikers again.”
    * * *
    The next Saturday, Melanie got a call from Greg.
    “Can I buy you lunch?”
    The sound of his voice sent a shiver of pleasure through her. “Well hello, stranger. I wondered if you’d call again.”
    “Well, I’m embarrassed to say it’s only partly for the pleasure of your company. There is someone I want you to meet. He’ll join us for a beer, then take off and we can have the rest of the day.”
    “This is all mysterious. What’s going on?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone, and I think you need to hear the story direct from my source.”
    “Your source?”
    “So you can ask questions.”
    Intrigued, and sensing that it was something he thought important, she agreed.
    And so, when Greg picked her up, sweeping her up into his sensual world again, she found herself dealing with a new set of questions and concerns. This relationship, if that’s what it was, had gotten complex quickly, and she hadn’t even sorted out the basic issues yet. She struggled with the fact that she wanted him so badly and wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She was concerned that she might be romanticizing him—if she was, maybe she wasn’t seeing clearly who he really was. She even had to wonder if her loneliness didn’t factor into how attractive, how sexually exciting he seemed.
    They stopped at a small Mexican place she’d never known existed. Of course they were in a part of the city she’d never spent much time in. It was downmarket, what she’d considered a high crime area.
    The idea made her laugh—at herself. As she got off the bike she was seeing the irony of worrying about being in a dangerous part of town, while riding with a biker, an ex con. He was the kind of person she was supposed to be worrying about running into, not the man she arrived with. So much for