Train turned to see who Curt was staring at with his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. Killyama was walking toward the front of the factory.

Train took a step forward so she would see him, giving a whistle. Stopping, she swerved and walked toward him.

He almost chuckled when he saw the anger glinting in her eyes as she drew closer.

“You see a leash on my neck?”

“I was trying to save you a trip inside,” Train explained, noticing Curt was putting out his cigarette with his work boot.

“Next time, just yell,” she snapped.

“I’ll do that. What—”

“Are you going to introduce me or what?”

The way she was staring at Curt made his flesh crawl. Stiffening, he made the introductions, deliberately giving Killyama’s nickname as an introduction.

Curt’s eyes widened, taking in her T-shirt that read “Try This” in bright red letters, her blue shorts, and her tan ankle boots that had a strap crisscrossing the front to tie at the back with fringes dangling down.

“It’s nice to meet you. You here to place an order? I can help—”

“She’s here to see me,” Train cut Curt off, shifting away from the door to move beside Killyama.

“You work here?” Ignoring Train, she didn’t take her eyes off Curt.

“Yeah, I can take care of anything you need,” Curt insinuated, puffing his chest out at her interest.

Train was ready to blow all efforts The Last Riders had done in the months since Curt had been hired, wanting to plant his fist in the man’s smirking face.

“Then don’t you think you should get your ass back to work? I’m sure The Last Riders don’t pay you to shoot the shit with me.”

Curt’s face turned ruddy red as he jerked the back door open.

“Dude, I’d lay off the beers, or buy a bigger pair of pants.” Killyama couldn’t help adding an insult to the injury she had done to his pride.

Train slung an arm over her shoulders despite her trying to wiggle away from him. “You just made my fucking day.”

She tried to hide her smile as she used her hands to try to push away from him. “Lover, that dick doesn’t have enough socks to shove down his jeans to make me give him the time of day.”

“I was getting worried,” Train admitted.

“You were jealous of that wiener? Please …”

“So, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I thought I’d make your fucking day.” She looked around the parking lot to make sure no one was watching. Then she brought her hands to his belt buckle to pull him closer, planting a kiss on his lips before taking a step back.

Train licked his bottom lip, still wanting to taste her after the brief kiss was over.

“Is it my birthday again and no one told me?”

“Not yet, but you never know. How much longer before you get off?”

“Not for a few hours. I told Jewell she could take off when I came back from break.” He had made the offer when Jewell had complained about wanting to go shopping. He was trying to make up the time he had spent chasing after Killyama.

“I’ll call Beth or Lily and see what they’re up to.”

“Why not just hang out with me?”

“You won’t get in trouble?”

“No, I won’t get in trouble.” Train stared at her poker face. “You know that I’m part owner of the factory, right? I might get in trouble for not putting my time in, but I won’t for letting you keep me company.”

“How should I know—”

“Jonas is good. As good as Crash. I’m sure you had me checked out, even though Hammer and Jonas know me from serving with me.”

“Crash does a sucky job. I wouldn’t bet the bank on what he knows.” Her blithe answer had Train shaking his head.

“I didn’t need Crash to tell me you had checked me out. You never asked me about what happened to my father when I told you he killed my family.”

“I didn’t have to ask because I know what I would have done.”

“Then you’re smarter than the detectives who have been trying to make a case against me for years.”

“Smart enough to know that they don’t have a chance of ever pinning his murder on you. What would you have done if he hadn’t escaped the psych ward they were evaluating him in?”

“We’ll never know now, will we?”

“Guess not. So, are we going to stop chit chatting so you can earn more moola? I need a new pair of shoes.”

Train opened the door for her. “I think you have enough shoes. I haven’t seen the same pair on you since I’ve known you.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward. “You don’t live with all these bitches and not know better than that. A woman never has enough a shoes.”

“Just admit you have a shoe fetish,” Train joked, not missing the workers watching them as they walked through the factory.

“If you’re keeping track of my shoes, I’m not the one with the shoe fetish.”

Train pulled up another stool so she could sit next to him, and once she sat down, she used the heel of her boot to swivel the stool to stare at the work being done around her.

Train sat down, picking up the order he had planned to fill when he came off break.

“So, what do we have to do?”

Train took his attention off the order form to gaze at her interested eyes. “You’re going to help?”

“Why not? I don’t have anything better to do. The shop is closed today. Sex Piston is home with Rocky and Star—they have a virus. Fat Louise and T.A. are at work. And Crazy Bitch is using the day to clean her apartment.”

“You didn’t volunteer to help Crazy Bitch?”

“Hell no. Some of the brothers came over last night. They trashed the place, so she made a couple of them stay to clean up the mess.”

“Her loss is my gain. You want to work, I have plenty to keep you busy.”

Train decided it would be easier for him to fill the orders and for her to box the items for shipping. He searched for a smaller order that needed to be filled, and then found the items required. After showing her how to package them, he started filling another order.

She was quick. Killyama was already done before he could return to his station, setting a toilet kit on top of the table.

“How in the fuck am I supposed to pack that?”

Going to the wall in front of his deck, he slid out a large flat box, showing her how to use the heavy tape on the box flaps to close the bottom.

“Got it.” She placed the toilet kit inside.

“We use popcorn so it won’t slide around in the box.”

“Popcorn?”

“I’ll show you.” He lifted the box, carrying it to a machine that sat a few inches away from his station. Setting the box under the machine, he pressed the button that would let synthetic popcorn fill the box.

“That’s cool.”

“Let’s see how cool you think it is after you’ve done thousands of packages.”

“I’ll pass on that. Next time Rocky or Star are blowing chunks, I might give Sex Piston a day off.”

He saw Jewell walking out of the office and told Killyama, “I’ll be right back.”