She yanked her hand away. “You’re so…God. I don’t want any part of your disgusting revolving bedroom door, Unleaded.”

“Your loss.”

Heat and frustration simmered in her eyes.

“You can’t ride on my bike in that.”

“Watch me.” She flashed a victorious grin and pushed past him.

That tiny flick of a woman was going to be the death of him.

DIESEL SLID TWO drinks across the bar to a busty brunette and a twiggy blond. “Twelve even.”

“Would you mind running a tab for us?” The brunette tilted her head with a flirtatious smile. “I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while.”

He gave a curt nod, making a mental note to watch their consumption so he didn’t have to get their drunk asses home at the end of the night. There were a few men and women on that list, as there were most weekend nights. The bar had been too busy to do much in the way of keeping obnoxious guys away from Tracey’s tables, but Diesel had kept a close eye on her, despite her annoyed sneers.

“Thanks. You’re sweet,” the brunette said playfully, touching his hand. “See, Annie? I told you he wasn’t mean.”

Diesel pulled his hand away. He didn’t like to be touched unless he initiated it, and even then it was always on his terms—how, when, and where he allowed it.

Moon laughed, shaking his head as he served another customer.

Diesel was not in the mood for bullshit, and he had no interest in fucking the two women who had practically offered themselves up on a silver platter to every man who had looked their way tonight. He looked past them at Tracey prancing around in that damned miniskirt with a newfound air of confidence that rivaled Dixie’s. But she wasn’t Dixie. She didn’t carry a rough and craggy chip on her shoulder from which to draw strength and ire, hardened from years of fighting to be heard over three tough older brothers. Tracey’s chip was newly plucked from the ground, scuffed and scarred for sure, but she’d only just found the strength to put it on her shoulder, and she had yet to test it further than getting into a verbal scuffle with Diesel. He hadn’t been surprised she’d spoken to Red. That newly plucked chip had definitely fueled the fire in that pretty little chick’s belly. It was a good thing he was on his way out, because this new good-girl-gone-bad vibe she was rocking was damn hard to resist. Hell, she was hard to resist anyway, like a pristine, unrideable road still wet from the pour, glistening in the sunlight.

Fuck.