“I’m glad you took it. Faye can’t stop raving about how amazing you are with Clover,” Anna says. “But if you don’t need the job, just give Faye a little warning so she can find someone new. She’ll have to find someone else when you go back to school anyway.”
She’s missing the point here.
“Yeah, I know, but what I’m trying to tell you is—”
“Lana!” Tracker calls out from the front door.
“In here!” I call back, turning to Anna with an apologetic glance. “This conversation is to be continued.”
She nods, grinning slyly. “I thought he was working all day.”
“Me too.”
He walks into the living room, gaze searching for me. His eyes brighten when they land on me. “Want to come for a ride?”
“Clover?”
He looks to Anna. “Can you watch Clover for the rest of the day?”
Anna nods. “Sure. When she wakes up I can take her to the zoo with me.”
Tracker grins. “Thanks, Anna. Lana, get your shoes on.”
I get ready, then follow him outside. As he puts his helmet on me, I ask, “Where are we going?”
“I have to get back to work.”
“Oh. Then why am I coming?” I ask, frowning.
“ ’Cause I missed you, and I want you there with me,” he says, kissing me.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” he replies with a chuckle.
“Well, let’s go then,” I say, smiling shyly.
Another kiss, this one longer, and then we’re off.
I keep thinking about my conversation with Anna and realize she’s right. I need to judge Tracker on who he is now, who he is for me, rather than who he was or what he could do. I need to put the past behind me and take a chance.
* * *
Standing outside of Toxic, a strip club, I scowl. “This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I’d spend the day with you Tracker.”
He grins and cups my chin. “Just a stopover, sheathe those claws.”
Pursing my lips, I let him lead me inside. The place is what you’d imagine a strip club to be, except there are no girls dancing.
“Is it closed?” I ask, as we head to the bar where a man is cleaning glasses.
“Yeah, it opens in an hour or two,” Tracker says, smirking down at me. “Why? Disappointed?”
I shrug. “I’ve never been to a strip club before. I might as well get the full experience.”
I can almost feel a new plot coming on.
“I’ll bring you back another time then,” he murmurs, shaking his head in amusement. “You never react how I expect you to.”
“I don’t like the idea of you coming here,” I admit.
“Why?” he asks. “None of the women here have shit on you.”
I blush. “Tracker—”
He brings his lips to my ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. And my opinion is the only one that fuckin’ matters, baby.”
I look directly into his eyes and see that he believes what he says.
“You’re not going to stop until you own every inch of me, are you?” I whisper.
“I’m not going to stop until you want me to,” he replies, kissing my forehead. “I need you to need me as much as I want you.”
I’m already there.
“Sit here for a sec, all right? I gotta go out back and handle something. Anyone comes near you, tell them you’re mine and they’ll back off if they have any brains.”
I nod and sit down. No one is around anyway.
“You want me to get you a drink?”
“A soda would be good.”
He heads over to the bar and gets a can of soda for me. Placing it down, he kisses my temple, then disappears behind one of the backroom doors. Opening the drink, I take a sip and look around the club. There are a few different stages and podiums, and I wonder what it looks like when everything is in full swing. The door opens, and two pretty women walk in.
“I saw his bike out there,” one says. “Do I look okay?”
The other nods. “As always.”
One sees me and gives me an odd look. “Are you a new dancer?”
I see her giving me a once-over, as if I were competition, then smiling when she finds me lacking. “You don’t look like the usual dancers they hire here.”
“That’s because I’m not one,” I reply, pushing my glasses up on my face.
“Oh. Are you a cleaner here or something then?” one, the blonde, asks seriously.
I grit my teeth. “No.”
Not that there’s anything wrong with being a cleaner, but why was that her first assumption?
Tracker walks out in that moment, his eyes widening as he sees me cornered by these two women. Eyes on me, he comes straight over to me. “You okay?”
“Tracker!” The blonde beams. “I knew it was your bike I saw.”
She puts her hand on his chest.
I see red.
I stand up. “I’d rather you didn’t do that.”
She turns to me. “What?”
I ignore her and walk up to Tracker, moving her out of the way. I thread my hand through his hair and pull him down to me, kissing him hard. When I pull away, he’s out of breath and his eyes are alight with passion.
“God, Lana,” is all he manages to say. I smile up at him, proud of my own nerve. I nod toward the women, who look pissed off and confused, and he takes the hint.