Free The Virgin's Revenge by Dee Tenorio

probably was.
    But what if he wasn’t?
    He stole another glance at her. Amanda had always been hard to read. Not just to him, to everyone. She had her tells—like that sigh of hers—but when she wanted something close to the vest, she could stonewall like no one else he knew, even Locke. Sheer stubbornness or pride could keep her going for weeks when she let it. He’d always assumed he had a good handle on her. So good that he’d taken her feelings for granted?
    More than possible. Likely, even. It always happened so naturally, turning to her to see a smile on her face when something funny happened, wanting to share it with her. Even better when the joke was just between them. No matter how many people surrounded them, she’d smile at him and no one else in the world mattered. He’d always thought she liked that feeling as much as he did. Testament to their friendship. Today, though, he saw the shadows in her eyes. A hurt he didn’t understand, didn’t know how to manage.
    The guilt of Locke’s secret weighed impossibly heavier.
    When should I have told her, he demanded of his conscience. How was he supposed to let her know what was going on when they were surrounded by strangers all day and her brothers the night before? The small amount of time they’d been alone, she’d mostly been undressed. Maybe some other guy could keep his druthers when a tall blonde goddess was wearing less than a bikini in front of him. Cole was not one of those guys. If he was ever honest with himself, he didn’t want to be one of those guys. Not with Amanda.
    Yet another aspect of this growing disaster he didn’t want to think about but he knew he wouldn’t be able to duck for much longer.
    Just when he thought he’d finally get to tell her everything, she made a turn away from the direction of her house and pulled into the lot for Shaky Jake’s. His groan didn’t make it past his full-face helmet, but it wasn’t like she was asking his permission.
    Shaky Jake’s was good for three things and three things only. One, finding a good drink. Two, finding a great burger. But mostly three, finding the best gossip in all of Rancho del Cielo. He couldn’t help but wonder which one she was after tonight.
    Amanda Jackman walking in with him, her face flushed from success and those hot little looks she kept tossing his way, all those illegal-looking curves of hers on display in that tank top along with those painted-on jeans? That wasn’t just gossip. That was a grapevine-clogging atomic bomb. Locke wasn’t the only one who was going to lose his shit when he heard about it, either. All the brothers, even the youngest ones, would too.
    He stared at her, wondering if he was paranoid, sure something was going on. What are you up to, Amanda Jane?
    “Hungry?” she asked, climbing out of that tiny car that shouldn’t have been big enough to hold her endless legs, looking at him over the roof. She didn’t lift her dark sunglasses to the top of her head like she normally would when talking to him. He pulled off his helmet, not blaming her as he squinted beneath the overwhelming orange beams of light coming from the setting sun. It didn’t settle his gut feeling that something was going on, but he was withholding judgment a little longer. It wasn’t like he wasn’t keeping secrets too.
    So why did he have a feeling that this woman, who’d never had a secret in her life, wasn’t very keen to reveal it?
    “You won’t be cold?” He wasn’t sure he could take another test of gallantry. She’d never know how hard it had been to hand over his coat and block the view of those pebbled nipples back at the dealership. He’d only done it so his mouth would stop watering.
    “With all those people in there?” She slammed the car door, and he knew he was doomed.
    “Yeah, okay.” He secured Mellon and the bike’s matching stone gray-and-silver-embellished helmet, reluctantly following her into the single-door entry to the town watering