Page 67 of Knot Without My Permission
Wilder made this appointment for Lore and I, so we’re playing it by ear.
“I don’t need to know about your sexual proclivities,” the man drawls, watching as I take my helmet off. “How was the ride over? It’s a long one if you’re not used to riding.”
“I’m a little sore,” I admit, my hand on Lore’s shoulder as I carefully get up. “We took a couple of breaks to get my blood moving again.”
“Well I’m Ryder,” he says. “I don’t know who the alpha you’re with is since he’s too impolite to pull down his face covering.”
Lore snorts in amusement, his hand on my hip to help stabilize me.
“There’s a reason for that,” he says, his voice in a lower register than usual as he stands. Lore places our helmets on the bike, and his arm wraps around my waist as we move closer to Ryder.
Lore’s hair just keeps growing, and it’s messy from the wind. Soon, he’ll need to pull it up so it doesn’t completely flop into his face. It makes me think about what an adorable little boy he must have been growing up.
Ryder’s lips purse stubbornly, and I can only imagine the way he’s about to dig his heels in on this. According to Lore, he takes his craftsmanship seriously. He won’t sell his bikes to people he doesn’t like, which tells me Lore is keeping his identity anonymous for shits and giggles.
Petty MC men are going to be the fucking death of me. The sun is shining behind me, the weather clearing up once we left Minnesota. There should be plenty of light left in the day for what we need to do.
“Look, man, I don’t do business with people I don’t know,” Ryder says. “I honestly thought I was doing this for Wilder and his girl?—”
“Our girl,” Lore says, pulling his gaiter a bit further down until Ryder’s eyes widen.
“Huh. Is this the Little Queen then?” Ryder snorts.
It figures he’d hear that fucking nickname, yet not know that Lore is supposed to be dead. I have a feeling the MC grapevine will never fail to keep me on my toes.
“That’s what they call me,” I grumble, even as I shrug with amusement.
“You’ve got two clubs wrapped around your finger,” Ryder snorts. “Alright, Prez, keep your secrets. Let’s go build a bike then, shall we?”
I excitedly bounce on my feet, grinning in excitement.
“You don’t know how to ride it though, right?” Ryder asks, confused as we walk into the shop.
Lore’s face is covered again as Ryder directs us back to his office. There are people working on things in the garage, and while I can hear the ambient noises, no one else comes inside to talk to Ryder.
I shake my head to answer Ryder and he chuckles under his breath.
“How did your pack end up with a girl this straightlaced?” he asks.
“Fate,” Lore grunts. “She’s a crack shot and definitely not as innocent as you might think. It’s important to me that she learns how to ride.”
“Wilder mentioned that, I just needed to confirm. I have a couple of beaters, so I can give her a crash course, and she can continue to learn how to handle herself once she has the bike,” he says.
“This is going to sound dumb,” I sigh.
“No such thing as that, not unless you’re about to tell me my bikes are ugly as sin,” he says.
“I would never!” The shout makes Lore and Ryder chuckle, while my cheeks heat with embarrassment. “It’s just, while we were on the way here, we found some… Shit, I don’t even know what to call them.”
“Outlaws,” Lore says helpfully. “We were at the gas station, and everything got too quiet. Marie noticed the difference immediately. We got the fuck out the second we heard the bikes coming down the road.”
“Are you asking for defensive riding moves?” Ryder asks. I nod tentatively and he shrugs. “That’s not dumb at all. It’s smart to know in this world too. Let’s nail the basics, and then go from there. Now, you’re on the shorter side, yeah? How tall are you?”
“Five foot two,” I reply, watching as he makes a note of it.
“I need the bike to be tall enough not to scrape the road, while not having you worry about how the fuck you’re going to get on,” he muses.
I appreciate that he’s aware my vertically challenged frame may affect how he creates the bike.
