Page 29 of Bullet

“Need help?” I glanced into Steele’s smiling face as he reached into the back of the SUV for a bag.

Standing between them, I felt small and strangely protected. Their leather cuts declared themas dangerous. Road names gave them anonymity, but they didn’t seem to hide who they were.

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn’t suffocating on fear. I followed Romeo and Steele back into the MC.

“We’re neighbors,” Steele said, setting the bags on the bed.

Lili followed him into the room. “Are you moving in, too?” She wrinkled her nose as she glanced around.

“Nice step fromtombé pas de bourréeand landing incoupé,” I said.

Her mouth dropped open. “Do you take ballet, too?”

I sat on the edge of the bed. “I used to.”

“Ms. Baird says I can’t do my solo if I don’t practice my pirouette.” She chewed on her thumb nail. Without saying a word, Steele gently pulled her thumb from her mouth. She furrowed her brows. “Want to see my solo?”

“Sure.”

She spun on her heels and ran across the hall to their room. The door slammed against the wall. “Daddy, where’s my stuff?” Something tipped and clamored to the floor.

“Are you sure you want calamity Jane in here? She’s five going on twenty-five.” Steele raked his fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ears. Then realizing we hadn’t been introduced, he extended his hand. “Steele. You met Lili.”

“Stormy.” I slipped my hand into his for two beats of my heart, then pulled away. I’d been in the Landing Strip long enough to know a lingering touchcould be interpreted into an invitation to a private party in a backroom. We were alone in a bedroom, and I also recognized the tingle in my belly was anxiety, not arousal.

He slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and leaned against the doorjamb, not really in the room, but definitely not in the hall. “I thought I’d met all the old ladies, but I haven’t seen you around.”

“I’m not anyone’s old lady. I had my first ride on the back of Bullet’s motorcycle today.”

“Ah, one of Bullet’s girls.”

I recognized interest in his words and judgement in his tone.

“I’m not one of his girls.” Maybe I should start every conversation with a disclaimer. Not one of his girls, but if you’d been at the Landing Strip in the last month, you’d already know too much about me. Before he could ask me to elaborate, I said, “I’ll just be here a couple of days.” What did I say to him? I was along for a ride, but I had no idea where I was headed and had no idea how to get off.

Another crash sounded from across the hall, then Lili breathlessly rushed back into my room. Her hair had come loose from her braids. She wore a sparkling purple tutu, tights with a snag in the knee, and her worn slippers.

“Out,” she said to her dad, pushed him into the hall, and tried to close the door. He braced a hand against it. “Daddy, it has to be a surprise.”

His gaze rested on mine. I nodded, and he let the door close.

“You need to warm up before you dance.”

With a vigorous nod, she stood in first position.

While she rushed through a few moves and stretches, I dug into the first bag at my feet. Towels, sheets, pillows, and blankets. I tore off the tags and organized as Lili chatted about the girls in her ballet class.

One bag was filled with toiletries. “Before you perform, do you want me to fix your hair?”

“Yes, please.” Her wide smile revealed a few missing teeth.

I patted the bed. She sat in front of me, and I gently unbraided her hair. I wasn’t sure how to do a Princess Leia bun, but I could make her look like a prima ballerina. This was safe. This was comfortable.

As I did her hair, she chatted nonstop. Once I had two French braids running from her forehead to the crown of her skull, I smoothed her hair into a tight bun.

“We need bobby pins, but maybe there’s hairspray in one of these bags.” I filtered through another bag with shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, and a bunch of other bottles until I found the hairspray. With her elastic bands and a few squirts, I set Lili’s bun.

“Look in the mirror.”