He's an undercover DEA agent, trying to infiltrate The Diamondbacks, an infamous motorcycle club, in Hollywood. When Huck sees a beautiful woman who intrigues him, he wants her.
Summer is on the run from an incident back in Nashville that put her in fear for her life. Working as a waitress in a diner near Hollywood Boulevard, Summer is drawn to the bad boy biker. Their mutual attraction fires a wild passion and shared nights but as the danger increases, passion turns to something deeper, something real.
When he's outted as a Fed, he's about to be executed when Summer steps in to save him. Although he's seriously injured, they escape the Diamondbacks and leave Hollywood, but trouble follows them all the way back to his hometown in Mississippi. The stakes are high—life or death—and the chance for a happily ever is in jeopardy.
“Welcome to Neon Nights,” she said in a patented singsong. “Would you like a cup of joe while you look over the menu?”
Her voice poured over him like rich caramel or soft velvet. He caught a hint of a Southern accent, one with slow heat and some Tennessee twang. Intrigued by the way she spoke, Huck glanced up and did a double take. At close range, she was beautiful when he’d thought her merely pretty.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he told her. “What kind of pie you got?”
“Chocolate, coconut cream, banana cream, apple, pecan, and strawberry.”
So he could hear her voice one more time, Huck asked, “What’s the blue plate special?”
“Beef stroganoff or Cobb salad,” she drawled. “If you look over the menu, there’s plenty more—burgers, hamburger steak with gravy, sandwiches hot and cold, meatloaf, chicken, or you can order breakfast anytime, 24/7.”
“What do you recommend?”
Her lips twitched. “What’s next? Are you going to ask for the wine list? If I had a choice, I’d go with the beef stroganoff. It’s the best of the specials in my opinion. That, or just get a burger run through the garden, maybe a Jack Benny.”
Huck knew a little diner lingo. “Grilled cheese with bacon? All right. I’ll take one with a side of fries.”
“I’ll be back with your coffee.”
Her name tag read “Summer” and he wondered if that was her real name. If so, it suited her. She radiated a sense of calm, quiet beauty that evoked the serenity of summer.
When she brought the coffee pot, she turned over the cup already on the table and filled it. “Your food should be up before long,” she told him.
“Thank you. I’m Huck.”
“As in Huckleberry Finn?” she asked, with one raised eyebrow.
He laughed. “No, not quite. More like ‘I’ll be your huckleberry,’ an old Southern saying.”
With a quirky grin, she said, “You know, it rhymes with…”
Huck completed her sentence. “Fuck. Yeah, I’ve heard that one so often if I had a dollar for every time I have, I’d be a rich man. It’s Huck Morgan, by the way.”
He expected she’d offer her name in return, but she hesitated before she did.
“Summer Tatum,” she told him. Then, she walked away, her sweet ass bouncing to an unheard beat beneath the cheesy uniform. She intrigued him, so much he’d almost blundered and told her his real name and why he was nicknamed Huck.
I never fucking screw up like that. I can’t. I won’t. If I do, the entire investigation is gone and with it two years of my life.
