Evelyn's dream of securing a scholarship to America's top ballet school shattered when her mother was brutally murdered during her teenage years. Determined to make a difference, she became a detective, ready to take on the world. Assigned to invest...
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The air pulsed with energy as Jeremiah stood behind the bar, leather jacket stretching across his shoulders while bottles glimmered in the low light. Both bikers and sirens crowded around, ordering drinks and throwing teasing remarks his way. He had always been the kind of man people gravitated toward, whether it was his easy smile, his quick wit, or that unspoken promise of trouble in his eyes. Jeremiah himself wasn't sure if it was his carefully crafted charm or simply that he was too much of a people pleaser. Either way, he enjoyed it, the noise, the company, the feeling of belonging
A week had passed, and yet every time Detective Evelyn walked into the same room, his body reacted as if it recognized her before his eyes did. The prickling under his skin felt alive, like his blood knew something good was coming and refused to let him forget it. Jeremiah couldn't decide if he should surrender to the pull or run the other way. He distracted himself by catching a bottle, spinning it once with a flourish before pouring a drink for a siren who smiled at his trick. The shift was small, but he felt it instantly. The tingles raced across his spine. She was here. His chest tightened as he turned, breath held, eyes searching until they landed on her. Evelyn. The detective glided through the crowd in a black tank top that clung to her curves just right, her silver belt catching the light with every step. The sight knocked the air from his lungs.
"Hi there, stranger. How's it going?" Evelyn's voice broke through his daze as she slid onto a bar stool, her lips curved in a smile that made the room fade. Jeremiah forced himself to play it cool, though his pulse hammered beneath the surface. Her beauty made it hard for the biker to even think.
"Better than ever. Drinks are running like water back here," he replied, though the words came out a little rough, betraying the breathlessness he felt. To cover it, he poured a shot of rum for a biker at the end of the bar.
"I can see why you bikers are famous for throwing wild parties," Evelyn said, gesturing toward the crowded dance floor, where bodies pressed together in sweat and rhythm. The Music was on max as everyone let lose. Jeremiah's mouth quirked into a smirk. The memory of her first night here flashed in his mind, wide eyes, awkward smile, like a girl caught stealing biscuits from the jar.
"Yeah? We are famous for that, aren't we," he said, pride coloring his voice. He'd organized countless events like this, and truth be told, he loved it. Bringing people joy had always been in his blood. When Jax had asked him to take the reins, Jeremiah hadn't hesitated.
"Wait, is someone sounding a bit cocky?" Evelyn teased, her strawberry-pink lips curving wider as she leaning forward mocking the biker. Jeremiah leaned back, clutching his chest in mock horror and a smirk her way.
"Why would you ever accuse me of such a sin?!" he exclaimed, his voice pitched playfully high as he joked with her. To everyone else their mockery was odd, a biker and a cop joking and, god forbid flirting, that was a sin in itself. Her laughter broke free, warm, genuine, unguarded. The sound rolled through the bar like music, drawing curious glances from the bikers and sirens nearby. Jeremiah couldn't look away from her, couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. For a moment, it was just the two of them in their own little bubble.
