The dog takes a step forward, her body tight, ready to attack if she deems me a threat.
Good girl, she is guarding Stevie. That is something I can get on board with.
“Crash? What are you doing here?”
Bringing my gaze to meet Stevie’s, I tilt my head much like her dog did.
“Since when am I ‘Crash’ to you?”
She just shrugs, stepping away from the tent so she isn’t blocking other customers. Still always making sure that people get what they need.
“How have you been?” I move forward, her dog moving between us, stopping me from getting closer.
The dog is stunning: her fur brown and white, her pink nose aimed right at me, and she may look sweet but I have no doubt she would bite my hand off if I reached for Stevie without consent.
“Good.” She looks down at the dog. “Glory, down.”
The dog speaks, like she is answering back, maybe bitching about me. I fucking love watching the huskies online talking back; it is hilarious.
“Really? You want to show me up by not listening.” Glory whines again, and I can’t help but smile at the interaction between the two.
“Down,” Stevie says in a firmer voice, and the dog lies down, her eyes firmly looking up at me, keeping her human safe.
“She is a good guard dog.” Glory huffs, making me grin.
“She is, and she is also my best friend, who will have no issues biting you if I tell her to.”
“I would deserve the bite,” I agree.
“You would. What can I do for you, Crash?”
“Logan,” I correct her. “I do not want you calling me by my road name. I am always ‘Logan’ to you.”
She folds her arms in front of her body, pushing her breasts up, giving me a good view of her cleavage. Damn, she grew up and fucking pretty too, with a nerdy edge to her.
“Eyes up here, biker boy.” That earns another huff from Glory.
It is like she really understands us, which is cool.
Smirking, I inch closer, making sure not to step on the dog.
“Biker boy? Baby, there is nothing ‘boyish’ about me.”
Her eyes flash with heat, her cheeks grow pink, and it is not the sun that is doing that.
“If you say so.”
“I know so.” My hand reaches out to touch her elbow, and Glory not liking the contact, starts to crawl forward, her paws landing on my boots.
Dropping to my haunches, I shoot Stevie a quick wink. The movement is all Glory needs. Her head snaps up, ears pricked, eyes locked on mine. I turn my hand palm-down and offer theback of it, slow and steady, letting her decide if I’m friend or threat.
A warm, tentative lick brushes my knuckles. Then she nudges her head into my palm, a clear invitation. I scratch gently behind her ears, feeling her melt into it.
Stevie rolls her eyes at her dog’s instant betrayal, tapping Glory’s side with the tip of her boot. “An easy smile and a good smelling man, you fall for it,” she mutters, though the corner of her mouth betrays a smile.
I wink up at her. “You think I smell good, huh?”
Shaking her head, she fights to lock down her smile but fails.