“You know the Blue Angels?”
She shook her head. “No, but I told you I know biker culture. My mom…” Shelly trailed off, not wanting to say more about the woman who’d given her life, but not much else. “Anyway, bikers are weird. They’re like, oddly possessive of their women. But they fuck around a lot. Fidelity isn’t big in their world.”
“Okay? What does any of that have to do with me?”
“Just, don’t get involved with this guy, okay? You’re a good girl. A nice girl. You deserve more than some rough biker who won’t come home to you every night. They don’t have normal jobs, or live normal lives. They’re not suburbs and white picket fence guys.”
Normal.
Yeah, nothing about my interaction with Colt had been normal.
I forced a smile. “I think it’s really sweet that you’re trying to warn me off, but you’re forgetting something. He just kissed me. I doubt he’s even still thinking about me.”
“That’s what I was trying to explain to you. You may not want him, but he definitely wants you. For him to kiss you in public like that? It was basically him putting his brand on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s just dumb.”
She shrugged. “Like I said. It’s weird, and as an outsider, it’s hard to comprehend. Your grandmother wouldn’t want you to end up with a guy like that.”
“Please don’t bring her into this,” I said lightly.
“You’re right. It’s a cheap shot. But you have to swear to me that you won’t get involved with them.”
“I swear.”
The vow was made easily and without an agenda to get her off my back. I truly had no desire to get involved with Colt. Even if it had been the best kiss of my life.
“Good. Now am I allowed to change the subject?” she asked.
“Please.”
Shelly looked at me for a long moment and then stood up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sparkly ring and slid it onto her left ring finger.
“Oh my God.” I jumped to my feet. “Way to bury the lead!”
“I knew if I told you I got engaged last night—well, early this morning,” she grinned, “you’d want to talk about it. But I wanted to talk about your thing first.”
I grasped Shelly’s hand so I could get a look at her ring. “It’s beautiful. How did it happen?”
She smiled dreamily. “I got home from the bar and walked into the apartment. Mark had lit candles and scattered rose petals across the floor leading to the bedroom like a walkway. I followed them and…” Her cheeks flushed. “He was down on one knee, wearing a tuxedo. He said he didn’t want to propose on our one-year anniversary, so he proposed the day after. Even if that meant proposing to me the moment I got home from work. He said he didn’t want to wait any longer to start our life together.”
Tears misted my eyes and I launched myself at my best friend, who was a good six inches taller than me. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
She hugged me back just as fiercely. “Will you be my maid of honor?”
Laughing, I pulled back and swiped the tears from my cheeks. “Like you even have to ask.”
Chapter 2
“You really don’t mind finishing the rest?” Shelly asked a few nights later. “I took out the garbage and cleaned the bathrooms already.”
“Go,” I said, taking a sip of my Red Bull.
Mark stood at the end of the bar and eagerly draped his arm around Shelly when she was close enough. He was four inches shorter than her, but clearly it didn’t matter to either of them. Shelly had finally found a good man who treated her the way she deserved and she loved him deeply.
“Dinner soon, yes? Our place,” Mark called out.
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
“I just got a new grill,” Mark said, his green eyes lit with excitement behind his glasses. “I am the grill master!”
Shelly rubbed her hand across his chest. “Yes, you are.”
“Please leave before I vomit and have to clean it up myself.”
Shelly saluted mockingly and then she and her fiancé left. I followed them and flicked the lock closed.
After I swept the floor, I cleaned out the icemaker and then counted the till. I gathered up the cash and receipts and headed to the back where Richie kept the safe. When I pushed open the door to the office, I lost my hold on the paperwork, which fluttered to the floor. Red Bull was no match for true exhaustion. I hadn’t slept well since I’d met Colt.
“Mia!” Richie exclaimed, jumping up from his chair.
“Crap,” I muttered, sinking to the ground. I didn’t spare him a glance. “Sorry. Thought you’d left already. Hey, can you open the safe for me?” Scooping up the derelict papers, I looked at Richie. His olive complexion was unusually pale and there was a sheen of sweat covering his long forehead. Slicked-back hair and beady eyes made my boss look like a weasel. His gaze darted from me to the corner of the room.
When I rose, the receipts and till in my hands, I realized Richie wasn’t alone. His companion stared at me with ill-concealed interest. I was used to being leered at; I was a bartender. But I’d learned that most of the guys were harmless.
Not this man.
A salt-and-pepper beard covered half his face and his silver hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Brown eyes surveyed me, making me feel naked. His gaze stayed riveted on my chest a moment before he looked up. A slight smile curved his lips.
Something was off with him. Though only average in height and bulk, I knew he was dangerous. His leather vest didn’t hide that he was packing. We were in Texas, so it wasn’t a huge shock. I even had a pistol in the glove box of my truck.
“Sorry,” I chirped, forcing a smile. “Didn’t know Richie had company. I’ll just leave all this here.” I walked toward the desk and set everything down, wanting to escape as soon as possible.
“Thanks, Mia,” Richie said, his voice strained.
“Mia,” the stranger crooned. “That’s a beautiful name.”
My smile remained in place, but I attempted not to engage. The man wasn’t having it. He strode toward me. He took my hand and brought it to his lips and I had to force myself not to pull it back.
“I never let strange men kiss me,” I teased, calling on my arsenal of bartending flirting skills.
“Call me Dev.” He kept my hand as his smile widened. “There. We’re not strangers anymore.”
I glanced at his leather cut, noting the president patch. Batting my eyelashes, I prayed he thought I was a ditz with a decent rack.
“You headed home?” he asked.
“Yup.” I extracted my hand. With a quick wave, I skedaddled out of the office and closed the door. I grabbed my purse from underneath the bar and exited to the side alley. I found my keys, ready to head to my beaten-up, green and rust colored vintage Chevy truck, but the sound of voices through the air duct stopped me.
“She’s a hot piece of ass,” I heard Dev say.
“She is,” Richie agreed.
Swine.
“Customers love her. She’s fast and her till is never off,” Richie continued.