All five bikers shifted their attention toward him in one slow, unified movement. He turned away quickly, color rising in his cheeks.
Then it clicked: the smirking biker was the same one who’d come into the nursery the morning after Blue’s Belly. He’d bought a watering can, but the way he looked at her had felt less like flirting and more like sizing her up.
“So do you know him?” Devin’s voice pulled her back.
“No. He came into the nursery to buy something the other morning.”
“How does someone get to know those guys? They seem to pretty much keep to themselves.”
“Bad luck, I guess.” She smiled faintly.
“But you’re a pretty woman, and I’ve heard about the wild parties they have at their clubhouse. I guess all women are fair game.”
“I haven’t been to the clubhouse,” she said. “I know the sister of one of the guys, that’s all.”
As Maddie cleared their table and rattled off dessert specials, Casey could feel Rags’s presence like static in the air. When she glanced over, she caught his stare—jaw set, forehead creased. She looked away.
“We should do this again sometime,” Devin said.
“Sure,” she said, though her stomach was tight.
“They have the peach pie,” he said, signaling Maddie.
“I’m going to pass.”
He eyed her plate. “You hardly ate anything. Aren’t you feeling well?”
“I’m okay. I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.”
Lines deepened across his forehead, and his gaze drifted once more towards Rags’s table.
“Did you date that guy or something?” he asked. “He keeps staring at you.”
“Not really. We just bumped into each other the other night and… we sort of danced.” She forced a smile.
He smiled back, but there was a flicker in his eyes she couldn’t read.
“Are you ready to go? I have some work to do tonight,” she said, reaching for her purse.
She slid out of the booth and, against better judgment, looked toward Rags one more time. Now he was laughing with his brothers, flirting with Maddie, acting like she didn’t exist. That hurt more than any glare would have.
The sky had deepened to violet by the time she and Devin stepped outside. The diner’s neon sign buzzed faintly, casting red and blue streaks across the pavement. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked, and a motorcycle’s distant hum hung in the air.
Devin fell into step beside her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “Just… tired.”
He nodded. “That motorcycle guy brought you down.”
“Not at all. It’s been a long day, that’s all.” She gave a small, uneasy laugh.
They reached her car. Devin leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, close enough that she caught a faint scent of aftershave, fresh with a hint of pine.
“You should be careful driving home,” he said. “With everything that’s been happening… those murders.” His voice softened. “Lock your doors, all right?”
“I will.”
“Good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We can’t have anything happening to one of our town’s brightest historians.”