Page 51 of Diesel's Perseverance
Tank filled the doorway. He pointed to Diesel. “Get your ass in here. We need another hand at the poker table.”
“I thought Bones was in the game.”
“Something came up with his old man.”
“Is everything okay?” Diesel asked, rising to his feet.
“He’ll let us know. Are you in?”
Diesel glanced at Myla, and she said, “Go on. I’ll enjoy the quiet for a bit longer before heading up to the room.”
“Are you sure you’re good?”
“I’m more than good. Have fun and win a ton of money.”
The two men laughed, then went inside the club. A warm, comfortable feeling spread through her as she stared into the distance. The sound of the river mesmerized Myla, along with the chirping crickets, rustling leaves, and the occasional hoot of an owl. As she let her mind drift, thoughts of Diesel took center stage. Getting to know him in person was even better than through the letters they’d exchanged. She never thought an outlaw biker who spent time in prison would be this kind and caring person. However, she did not doubt that he would be hard and calculating if anyone crossed him or disrespected him, his club, or those dear to him.
“Diesel,” she said out loud. Myla loved saying his name. It fit him to a T. He made her feel good—sometimes giddy—and safe. She liked being around him. He was the light in her darkness. He made her feel better when things got tough, sad, and scary—and he was a great kisser, for damn sure. Diesel had a strong body with some wicked abs and biceps. Those blue eyes were intense but warmed up whenever he laughed.
Myla pushed against the cushion and sat straight, her knees tucked up under her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs and stared at the forest of trees silhouetted against the darkness.Diesel.His name kept running through her head over and over…
“Are you still out here?”
Diesel’s deep voice startled her.
“I thought you were playing poker,” she said.
“I was for the past two hours. I went to the room and didn’t see you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Were you worried about me?” She teased.
“Always. What’ve you been doing?”
“Enjoying the solitude.”
“I’m beat. Are you coming in?”
“Yeah.” She stood up, and her stiff knees screamed out. “I guess I lost track of time,” she said rubbing her knees.
“Looks that way.”
He opened the screen door for her, and she slipped inside. The great room had a few of the men playing pool and drinking. A couple of guys watched the big screen television while some club girls lounged on one of the couches.
“It seems quiet in here tonight,” she said.
“Weeknight. Everyone’s gotta work in the morning.”
“Are you going in?”
“Yeah.”
When they entered the room, she turned to him and said, “I wish you’d stay here tonight. I know you’re tired, and I’m fine with sleeping on the couch.”
“I’m so damn tired. I’ll be out the minute my head hits the pillow. I’ll sleep on the couch, and don’t start arguing about it, woman. I’m too fuckin’ beat.”
“No arguments. Let me at least make up the couch for you.”
“Do what you want. I’m gonna wash up, then hit the sack.”
