“Yeah sure.” I don’t tell her that we barely have the money to cover our asses the next couple of months. Was going to have to put up my land to buy her out and find me a new place to live, but hell maybe this can work if we get on the same damn page. I know the club would help me out if I asked, but I’m not a beggar. I know my brothers got my back when push comes to shove but this is my own little slice of heaven that my old man always dreamed of having. It’s a pride thing. Might sound dumb, but that’s the way of it. The kind of man that I am.

  I do a once over the bar and I know it doesn’t look like much to some but it’s a place you can sit and drink your troubles away for a spell and no one pries into your business or gives you any shit.

  I check the restock and make sure there’s money in the drawer to start the day. I have Wanda Jean tending bar during the day till it’s time for her to pick her grandkids up from school. She was close with Les, and I’d given her a few extra days off. She’s due back today and I don’t have the heart to tell her that if things don’t improve soon, I’m not gonna have a need for her. Which sucks because she’s been a damn good worker and covered my ass when I had club shit to handle or looking after Les on days he needed someone to sit with him so I could be present at the bar. Problem is she’s older and not much to look at. Know that sounds harsh, but men want someone sexy to take their minds off their problems even if its only long enough for someone to bat their lashes a little or give them a big smile while serving drinks. Hell, I think her and Les might have had a thing and that’s why she got the job to start. She doesn’t bring in customers but she’s loyal.

  I stare at Vada with her short shorts looking all adorable walking around with her notebook, scribbling on the pages. Woman who looks like that could bring men in if she doesn’t open her mouth to bust their balls like she does with me.

  The front door opens, and I hope it’s not Wanda Jean. The less hours she works the less I gotta pay her. Sounds terrible but that’s the shape we’re about to be in. I see that it’s only Dutch doing a delivery. Motherfucker delivers moonshine out of an ice cream truck. Something else I haven’t clued Vada in on is we sell Black Rebel Riders’ Moonshine here.

  He lets out a whistle as he takes in the view of Vada leaning up on the jukebox pouring over the music selection. “See you got smart and dumped that old bird.” The second the words leave his lips Wanda Jean walks up right behind him.

  I can tell by the pained expression distorting her face she heard him.

  Her purple hair dye is fading and makes her look older and rougher than she is. The lines around her mouth are evidence of being a lifetime smoker. But the brother isn’t wrong. Would be smart to get a better-looking bartender. I should train Vada but the thought of her strutting around here in those shorts working for tips and men staring at her, thinking about her when they stroke one out or go home to their wives has me feeling some kind of way, I don’t care for one bit.

  The idea of it all is ridiculous. We just met and I don’t get hung up on pussy no matter who it belongs to. Tapping her ass would come with strings. I don’t like strings attached to the women I fuck. Shit was different when I thought there was a chance of her running back to wherever she came from but the way she let it all hang out this morning she’s here to stay by the sound of it.

  Guess we really are in the thick of this shit together and I’m going to have to be transparent with her.

  “Mornin’.” Dutch looks to Wanda Jean, and she shoots him a dirty look.

  “Came to tell you that my daughter and her husband are moving to the western side of the state for his job with the railroad and I’ll be going with them. You know they depend on me to help out with my grandbabies.”

  “Hate to lose you, Wanda Jean.”

  “I’m sure you do, but I think you’ll manage.” Her eyes cut to Vada as she struts toward us.

  Fuck me she’s something when she works them hips in those fucking shorts as they ride up her thighs with every step. Think I’ll have to put it in the employee handbook she can’t wear these shorts to work just around the property on the ridge.

  “Hi,” Vada greets our group.

  “Wanda Jean this is Les’s Vada.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. Les and I were what you might call special friends.”

  “Sorry for your loss.”

  “Just give me a call when I can pick up my final check.”

  “Be Thursday,” I tell her. “Won’t be in Wednesday morning. Vada and I have that meeting with the lawyer for the reading of the Will.”

  Wanda Jean smiles funnily at me like she knows something I don’t which could easily be true. If anyone would know what’s in his Will it’d be her. “I’ll see you Thursday.”

  “By, Wanda,” Dutch mutters and she glares at him on a long beat then leaves. “Think she’s really moving or did my comment upset her so much she quit?” Guilt seeps from his words. It was an honest statement but not one she needed to hear.

  “Don’t worry about it, man. She’s talked about the possibility of Jon getting transferred a few times.”

  He nods. “Got three cases for you.”

  “Take’m to the store room.” I toss him the keys. Gotta keep the door locked. One of our regulars got drunk and helped himself to the storage room once and an expensive bottle of bourbon.

  Dutch catches the keys and winks at Vada. Fucker. Darlene will rip him a new asshole she catches him. Those two are back on again after being off for a while. Brother needs to man up and make an ol’ lady out of her. No one else is going to put up with him.

  “Do we sell ice cream?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then what’s with the truck?”

  “Club business.”

  “Club business? Looks like it’s bar business being as he’s bringing cases of something into our business.”

  “Listen. I don’t know what Les was thinking leaving his half of the bar to you knowing that this is a biker bar, and you don’t know how things work around here. That said, you’ve saw that I belong to a club. And club business is club business. I’ll inform you what that business is when you need to know and I’m telling you right now that this is not your gig. It’s mine. So don’t ask questions and do what I tell you.”

  “You’re not my father.”

  “Thank fuck I’m not because I’d already tanned your ass for the way you love to run that sassy mouth at me.”

  Her cheeks flame red at my comment. “You better not be doing something illegal that will get us both into trouble.”

  “It’s under control.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’ll explain later.” I shut her down as Dutch comes through with his dollie with cases of moonshine stacked on it. I don’t have it in me to argue with her right now.

  Dutch completes his order and a couple of regulars who were fishing buddies of Les come in. Dutch is moping around the pool tables no doubt being nosy and checking Vada out.

  I’m working the bar and Vada is perched on a stool at the end still making lists in her notebook.

  She glances my way chewing on the end of her pen.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “If I say no, are you going to ask anyway?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then why ask if you can ask and just not lead with the question?”

  “What’s with the stripper pole? Are we a gentleman’s club? Is the stage for live music? Comedians? Like what’s the gig?”

  “That’s more than one question. Pole is left over from a bachelor party. Stage is for bands when we can afford to host them.”

  “That pole has got to go.”

  “I like the pole. Really classes up the place don’t you think?”

  “You’re a pig.” She shakes her head and I snort like the animal she thinks I am.

  “Most women love a man who acts like an animal.”

  “Yeah. In bed. Not a jackass in public.”

  Chapter seven

  Vada

  Every idea I give him to make the bar better he shoots me down. Says we can’t afford it. I’m about to bang my forehead down on this bar top.

  “The bar is about two months from having to shut down unless there’s something in that Will to save our asses tomorrow, we need to come up with a plan to bring in some money fast. We’re spending more than we bring in. And I get you got great ideas but this ain’t that type of place. I don’t want crotch goblins running through the bar and fucking up the felt on my pool tables. Need you to respect that was never the intention when we opened the doors.”

  There’s a lot I want to say to that but he’s right I do need to respect that this is his baby even if I am now part owner. There’s got to be some compromise though or like he said the place will go under.

  He moves off to handle the bar and I stare at my notebook hoping for inspiration.

  Every few minutes I glance up from my notes to find Solo staring at me. It’s unnerving. He’s doing it on purpose. Trying to make me uncomfortable. He looks at me like he wants to fuck me, and I can’t control how my body reacts to the thought of him making a move on me. Its wrong. I shouldn’t be attracted to him, but I am. He confounds me. He makes me feel things I shouldn’t. There’s a thin line between love and hate. I don’t know which way I’m leaning toward the most. How can someone I’ve only just met have me reacting so strongly every single time we come into contact. I’ve heard of love at first sight. I’ve never been a believer though Millie says that’s how it was for her and Tim. The moment they met they had this spark and it’s true they’ve been together ever since, and things moved fast between them.

  Does my spark have to be with a man I’m not sure if I despise? And one I can’t be with at that.

  Would be my luck.

  I look at the pole and get a stupid idea.

  I go to the jukebox and find a song that’ll do. Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard.

  Solo is busy talking to the delivery guy named Dutch as I kick my shoes off and go up on the stage.

  The music starts and I wrap a hand around the pole, doing a slow turn. Whipping my head side to side I close my eyes and allow the music to guide me.

  I’m no professional by any means but if he wants to keep this pole then we should I don’t know use it. Millie and I took a few pole classes before she married Tim. She wanted to surprise him with a sexy dance on their honeymoon, so I learned a thing or two. This place isn’t going to be what I would want but I’m going to embrace it and make the best of it.

  I move around the pole more than likely making an idiot out of myself but whatever. There’s no one here to impress right now and it isn’t as though I’m going to take my clothes off or anything.

  The sound of a piercing whistle cutting over the sound of the music followed by a whoop and a clap has me opening my eyes in time to witness Solo shoving this guy named Dutch then stomping toward me.

  He unplugs the jukebox. The music stops abruptly.

  “What are you doing?” He grabs me by the elbow, practically dragging me off the stage.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?” I glance past him wondering what has him so pissed off. I don’t think the two old coots at the other end of the bar give a shit. “Let go of me.” I go to jerk out of his hold, but he pulls me in close pressing the fronts of our bodies together. I get another whiff of his cologne and my insides tingle.

  Solo’s breath blows over my lips as he breathes heavily. My heartbeat vibrates in my ears like the wings of a hummingbird. I peer up at him as he towers over me through my lashes as he leans down, his mouth merely an inch from mine like he’s leaning in to kiss me which is ridiculous. And yet part of me aches for it.

  Burns from the inside out at the thought of him putting his hands on me like he did that blonde.

  “Didn’t peg you for a slut.” His words cut through my veins like a knife and my blood runs cold.

  “Screw you.”

  “You wish, babe. Bet if I checked I’d find you wet and ready for it.”

  Tears burn behind my eyes threatening to spill out over the brims. No one has ever spoken to me the way he does.

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Don’t have to. Got plenty of bitch’s eager to take this dick. You cut the attitude, maybe you’ll make the cut.”

  “In your dreams.” I jerk away from him.

  “I’ll be sure to let you know how that goes after tonight.” He grins and I practically run to the bathroom before he sees me cry.

  I take a good five minutes to pull myself together. Part of me wants to say screw this and leave. But I know that’s likely what game he’s playing at.

  He’s a dick. The dickiest dickhead of all dicks.

  If I were to inform him of my opinion, he’d likely twist it into a compliment about the size of his cock while smiling that stupid smirk that seems to be his signature expression.

  Even if he looks good doing it is besides the point.

  It isn’t until I start out of the bathroom that I realize I’m not wearing my shoes. Great. Now I need to disinfect the soles of my feet. I’m already worried about what type of diseases that trash panda could be carrying. Now I’ve got to worry about what my feet may have just touched. Solo probably screws his fuck buddies in there for all I know.

  I slip my shoes on and go to grab my notebook when one of the older men shoots me a wink which oddly makes me smile instead of cringe.

  Solo tosses a couple of twenties on the bar in front of me. “Make yourself useful and grab us some lunch.”

  Make myself useful. I nearly choke on the choice words I want to hurl at him as I bite them down. He wants a reaction. Instead of smarting off I smile sickly sweet. “No problem.” I click my pen. “Let me write down your order.”

  He stares at me a moment waiting for a smartass remark that isn’t coming. “Dairy Bar in town has the best hot dogs. Get me two footlongs and onion rings.”

  “Want me to get an order of fries too since you like both?”

  “Yeah sure. Get yourself something too.”

  “Any special instructions for your footlongs?”

  “Nope. Tell’em it’s for me. Chrissy knows what I like.”

  That one comment burns through me and I catch myself scrunching my damn nose. I bet every damn girl with tits and ass in this town knows what he likes but I keep the thought to myself.

  “You good, babe?”

  “Peachy keen.”

  “Better get going then. They get busy as fuck during lunch.”

  Finding the restaurant isn’t hard. There’s not a lot to this town though I enjoy the smalltown vibe. I park near a group of motorcycles. The riders are clustered around two picnic tables. These guys wear the same rocker on the back of their vests as Solo. Must be his club brothers.

  I ignore the group but can sense the heat of their stares against my back. My spine straightens when I hear, “Nice ass.” I roll my eyes and get in line to order. It doesn’t take long for one of the men in their group to walk up behind me.

  “Haven’t saw you around town before.”

  I turn around coming face to face with a biker hottie with a patch that says Chaser. I bet I know how he got that name. Probably because he chases ass.

  “That’s because I’m new to the area.”

  “What brings you here? We’ve had an influx of single women past few years.”

  “Who said I’m single?”

  “Noted. All right, you got a man?”

  “No.” I turn back in line and move up to order. “Hi, if I tell you that Solo wants two footlongs do you know what he wants on them?”

  “Oh yeah.” The woman scribbles down an order. “Anything for you?”

  I scan the menu and order a burger. I pay and take my ticket number and move off to the side to wait near the pickup window.

  The biker from moments ago, Chaser leans against the brick of the building near me. “How do you know Solo?”

  He’ll find out sooner or later. “I’m his new partner at The Brew.”

  “Damn. Where’s he been hiding you at?”

  “Les was my father.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yup. Hadn’t saw him since I was three then I got a call last week that he’d passed away and that he left me his half of the business.”

  “Sorry for your loss. Les was a cool dude.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I tell him, honestly.

  “Musta’ sucked.”

  “Is what it is. I’ve had a long time to make my peace with that.” I’m not going to spill my guts to the guy.

  “So you planning to stick around and run the bar with Solo or is this a silent partner type thing?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Cause if you’ll be there then maybe I’ll stop by. Being you’re single, maybe I’d like to ask you out sometime.”

  I’ve never thought much about dating a biker. I’m not opposed to it and this dude seems nice enough even if he comes on a bit strong. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  My order number is called out. I collect the food and return to the bar.

  Solo invites me to dine at a table with him while the bar is slow.

  “Met a friend of yours.”

  “Got a lot of friends.”

  “Guy named Chaser. Said he’d like to take me out sometime.”

  “Fuck no.”

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  “Motherfucker is my brother, but you don’t want caught up in his shit.”

  “I think that’s for me to decide but thanks for the warning.”

  “He’s married.”

  “Oh.” My face falls. “Men suck.”

  That earns me a chuckle. “Nah, babe.” His deep gritty voice does things to me I can’t explain. “Some men suck, but the right one…the right one will,” he pauses.

  “The right man will what?”

  “Nothing.” He looks past me and the blonde from the other night struts toward us.

  Chapter eight