Rhythm of the Road - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,1

share an eyeroll.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Let’s do it.”

“Wait!” Sparky runs up and passes out homemade brownies wrapped in clear plastic to everyone.

Jigsaw studies the treat. “Why now?”

“Eat ’em in the parking lot before we go in.” He shrugs as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “They’ll get all mashed up on the way there if I hang onto ’em.”

Stash shoves half of his brownie in his mouth and chews loudly. “Tastes like ass.”

“You would know,” Ravage zings back.

I don’t want to offend our club’s official stoner mascot, so I thank Sparky and stuff the brownie in my pocket.

“Everyone have their tickets?” You’d think I wouldn’t have to ask a group of grown men that question.

“Fuck,” Sparky moans. “They’re on my dresser.”

“I have them right here,” Willow announces, patting her hip.

Murphy lets out a long-suffering sigh that makes me chuckle. Guess it’s been like this all morning. No wonder they were late.

Since our two charters are riding to Wellspring together, we switch up the formation. Murphy and I, as vice presidents, take the lead. Jigsaw and Dex fall behind us, then everyone else.

We take it easy, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the Northway.

The eager-to-see-her sensation rolling around in the pit of my stomach is a first for me. I’d love to blame it on Sparky’s pre-concert edibles but since I didn’t partake, I can’t.

I twist the throttle, increasing my speed and to my left, Murphy does the same.

Part of me wishes I’d come alone so when I finally get my hands on Shelby, I have her all to myself. Or maybe so there are no witnesses in case our reunion goes south.

I’m keeping my expectations for tonight low. She’s on tour. She’ll be busy. While she’s aware I’m coming to the show, I don’t expect her to drop everything to cater to me. There’s a chance I won’t even be able to see her before her performance.

In our daily text exchanges and frequent phone calls, she still sounds like the same, sweet, sassy girl I left in Texas. Still doesn’t mean we’ll click the same way we did when we first met.

We’re still twenty minutes from the outdoor venue where the concert’s being held when a blur to the right catches my attention.

A bunch of people standing around, staring at the back tire of an older Ford Super Duty van.

I slow the bike.

One figure in particular catches my attention.

Short, curvy, ass to die for, long legs encased in tight blue jeans, and plump thighs I’ve been dreaming about having wrapped around me for months. Long blond curls pulled into a high ponytail.

Like I conjured her up straight out of my fantasies.


Can’t tell if anyone else recognizes her.

That was Shelby, right? She’s on my damn mind so much, maybe I’m having hallucinations.

Fuck it. Either way, someone’s broken down on the side of the road and could use our help. I signal to Murphy that I’m pulling over and guide the bike to a stop on the shoulder, leaving enough room for my brothers pull in behind me.

I barely have my helmet off when someone shouts my name over the crunch of gravel. I swing my leg over my bike and turn.

Yep, that’s my girl.

“Rooster!” she shouts again.

I only have a few seconds to open my arms before she flings herself against me, knocking me backwards a step.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

She tips her head back and that’s all it takes. One look in her sparkling eyes and I slam my lips against hers without answering the question. She’s as soft as I remember. Tastes sweet and lemony too. I curl my arms around her plush body, dragging her against me while our mouths tangle. The hot summer sun beats down on us but it’s nothing compared to the heat and desire sparking between our bodies—ready to combust into white-hot flames.

She angles her head, deepening our kiss, and I dive in. I’ve been starving for this woman for months and now that she’s finally in my arms, I plan to gorge myself.

Unfortunately, we’re not alone.

Nope, we’re on the side of a busy highway with a bunch of my club brothers and her entire band here to witness our reunion. Can’t speak for her band but my asshole brothers waste no time hooting and whistling at our ravenous greeting.

It doesn’t stop me from kissing the fuck out of Shelby.

Not even a little.

Chapter Two

People cross paths for a reason. I firmly believe that. Rooster and I were destined to meet. I