Hawk's Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 1) by Chiah Wilder

from a very dull evening,” he said.
    This is the distraction I need. “Sounds intriguing,” she replied.
    “How about dinner and maybe dancing? I know it’s last-minute, but I’ve been busy on a complex litigation case. I need a break, and I want to see you again.”
    “I don’t have plans. Dinner and dancing sound great.”
    *     *     *
    Thirty minutes later, sitting at a table by the window in The French Bistro, Cara waved at Sherrie as she entered the restaurant. She hadn’t seen Sherrie since they’d gone out two weeks before to the biker bar. The French Bistro was a newer, popular restaurant on trendy Spruce Street and was reminiscent of a neighborhood café on the Left Bank in Paris. Wrought-iron chairs around small, round tables adorned with lace tablecloths and flower-filled glass vases welcomed customers. Oil paintings depicting street scenes of Parisian life decorated the yellow walls, while the aroma of baked bread enveloped the eatery, tantalizing patrons as they entered.
    After the waiter brought their food, Sherrie, munching on her paté and Swiss cheese sandwich, said, “What gives, Cara?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re hiding something from me. I know you, girl. ’Fess up. You’re hiding something.”
    Pushing her salad plate aside, Cara chewed her lower lip and said, “Remember that biker guy I met at the bar a couple of weeks ago?”
    “Yeah, how could I forget that cutie?”
    “Well, he’s now my client. I mean, he came into my office with some of his club guys, and I almost died when I saw him.”
    “Are you shittin’ me? Your sexy biker is now your client ?” Throwing her hands over her mouth, Sherrie laughed.
    “Shh… not so loud,” Cara said as she noticed a few people staring at them. “And no, I’m not shitting you. He’s my new client, and it’s not funny,” she whispered.
    “I can’t fucking believe that. What are the odds?”
    “First of all, he’s not my biker . The case was Les’, but he couldn’t do it and asked me to take it as a favor. If I’d known he was the client, I never would’ve agreed.”
    “You have to admit, he’s sexy, right?”
    “Yeah, I’ll admit he’s sexy, but he’s also arrogant and a smartass. I find him infuriating.”
    “I couldn’t tell that by the way you were dancing with him.” Sherrie raised her eyebrows.
    “I had too much to drink. I was tipsy.”
    “Were you? You drove us home. Did you break your no-driving-if-tipsy rule?”
    Sherrie knew her too well.
    “Well?”
    “Okay, so I knew what I was doing and I thought he was hot. So what?”
    “So, nothing. It’s just that I’ve never seen you do that in all the times we’ve been clubbing. That’s all.”
    “I don’t know, I guess I felt like letting loose. I had a long, stressful week, and I knew I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew in that kind of bar.”
    “You don’t have to explain. I’m not judging you. Hell, I’d go for him. It looked like you guys had something going there. I remember that, even if I don’t remember much more of that night. Talk about getting wasted.” Sherrie giggled.
    “He’s not my type. He mostly makes me mad.”
    “Not mad, Cara, hot . Damn, it’s been so long for you, you can’t remember what it feels like. I mean, you’ve buried yourself in work for the last four years. I have to drag you out most weekends, and when we’re at a bar, you send out don’t-touch-me vibes big-time. That’s what I’m saying—that Saturday, you were on fire. I don’t care what you say. This biker struck something in you.”
    “Okay, yeah, I feel drawn to him, but that’s probably because he’s so damn persistent and demanding. For reasons that probably would take years on a therapist’s couch to figure out, I kinda find his arrogance a turn-on. Am I psycho, or what?”
    Smiling, Sherrie said, “No, you’re a woman who’s been dry for too long. You need to go for it.”
    Cara sighed. “What am I going to do? I