Released: MC Secret Baby Romance (New Adult Contemporary Biker Romance) (65 page)

"North."

"And where are you headed?"

"South."

She rolled her eyes again, and propped a hand on her hip. I followed the movement with my eyes appreciatively.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she said. Then, she walked down the bar to serve her other customers.

An old man from a few seats down slid down into the seat next to me.

"Hayley's something, isn't she?"

I turned and glared at him. When had it been broadcasted that I was looking for friends?

I decided that rather than starting an argument with a drunken old man, I'd just ignore him instead. I turned back to the TV and drank down my beer. Every once and a while though, I'd sneak a peek at Hayley's delicious figure.

Chapter Four

Hayley

The mysterious military guy stayed until closing. He drank quite a bit, but seemed more or less unaffected by the libations. I thought that the booze might loosen up his tongue a little, but all it did was make him moodier. By the end of the night, he was giving off such a "don't mess with me" vibe that even Herb knew better than to try and approach him.

While I had failed in my quest, and lost a good story, that wasn't the only reason I hoped he would come back. It wasn't like I was going to act on any of the delightful little fantasies I had going on in my head — men were too much trouble — but they sure were fun to think about.

When we were closing up, Tamsy, our Tuesday waitress, asked me if I'd be the one to tell him to leave. He had all but ignored my last call announcement, and apparently, anytime she approached him, he shot her a withering glare.

I often compared Tamsy to the lion from the Wizard of Oz. Tattooed to the nines, dyed black hair, and eyeliner that probably took more than one pencil to apply, she looked every bit as rough as the rest of the bar, until you saw her reacting to a spider or an unruly customer. Somehow, I was always the one who got called over to fix the situation. Spiders were easy. You just got a napkin and brought them outside (they're good for the environment, okay?). Jerks like our new friend; however, were slightly more of a challenge.

"Time to go, bud," I said.

He was staring down at the beer in his hand. I'd turned off the TV fifteen minutes ago, so he'd have to find some other form of entertainment. Apparently, the carbonation of his beer was even better than sports highlights.

He glanced up at me with a hard look in his eyes, and for a moment — I hate to admit —it actually got to me. He was a man who showed nothing on his face, but every once in a while, you'd see a bit in his eyes. At this point, I almost wished I hadn't. I wanted to go hide in the back with Tamsy and just let him do his thing until he decided to clear out.

But, I wasn't Tamsy. I was the person in charge of spider removal.

"The longer you stay here, the longer it takes for me to get into bed," I said lowly. "And I love my bed."

He grinned then, though the rage in his eyes didn't abate. It was an unnerving combo. "How about we kill two birds with one stone then?" he purred. "Let's just get into bed together."

I couldn't help it. With his strong jaw and searing eyes, my body responded to his offer in a way that I wasn't proud of. My brain was yelling at me to smack him, but other parts of me wanted to lay hands on him in a different way. I took the middle route. "How about you get the heck out of my bar right now or I toss you out myself?"

To his benefit, he didn't sneer about how he'd like to see my try or make some snarky comment relating to my femininity. I think he'd actually had enough.

Wordlessly, he rose from his stool, chugged back the rest of his beer, and sauntered out the door. I tried not to look shocked, but I'd never been particularly good at hiding my emotions.

Gage

The motel across the street from the bar, unsurprisingly, had rooms available. The guy at the front counter had a 70’s pornstache and a serious case of B.O., but he assured me that the rooms were clean and the water was drinkable. When a motel room comes with a caveat like that, you know it must be good.

I headed up to my room and pushed open the door. When I flicked on the lights, I had to wonder if the rooms had at one point been used to film 70’s porn. Maybe that guy had had some sort of epiphany on set and decided that he'd rather run a run-down motel than have sex on film.

Maybe it was just a regular motel and I needed to get some sleep.

I stripped off, turned off the light, and slid under the sheets.

Most people were fussy about the places they laid their heads. A room like this wouldn't rank high on anybody's list of top-sleeping destinations, but I'd been worse. When you're in a tent in the desert, trying to fall asleep when you know that you could be bombed or shot at any minute, a room like this seems like paradise. The only thing that would get me here were some bugs and, as always, myself.

I went back to the bar the next day after grabbing some food in town and taking a cruise around the bay. There wasn't anything more interesting in town, and I was still pretty impressed with the bar's goddess protector, Hayley. I decided that trying to get her in bed would be a much better pastime than looking for sea glass or out-of-state license plates — or whatever people did on vacation. Having never had one, I wasn't sure what the deal was. I would have rather been at work, but orders are orders.

I was glad to see she was working again and, if my eyes didn't deceive me, for about 0.02 seconds, she was glad to see me too.

"You're back," she said, when I sat on the stool across from her.

"I'm thirsty."

She poured me a pint without asking what I wanted, and slid it toward me. It sloshed a little on the hand I had resting on the counter.

"Oops." She didn't look sorry. Those luscious lips were curved up in a wicked smile.

She went back to her work and I watched the sports on TV for a bit. I wasn't all that into football though, so I spent most of the time glancing down to see what she was up to. She commanded the respect of the bar with such assured grace that I was sure that there was an untapped talent underneath those beer-stained clothes.

I mean, there was a lot that I liked to imagine as being under those digs, but I was also sure that she would have felt at ease in a high pressure board room or in a courtroom fighting tooth and claw to keep an innocent man from prison. What in the heck she was doing in the middle of the sticks, serving beer to men like Herb who spilled it as a matter of habit, I wasn't sure.

But, that's not what I was there to find out. I was there to find out what she looked like naked.

Hayley seemed determined to ignore me, but she was a better bartender than she was a brick wall. I finished my drink and she was there almost right away, asking if I wanted another.

"You look even better today than you did yesterday," I commented, ignoring her question.

She gave me a flat look. "You were drunk yesterday."

"Still remember everything."

"So, you remember being a tremendous ass?"

I winked at her. "There's only one tremendous ass in this bar right now."

She immediately began to flush. The visual was thrilling.

"Do you want another beer or not?" she asked.

What I wanted was to make her so flustered that the only thing she would be able to bring me was home with her. I didn't say that.

"Yes." I looked deep into her green gaze while I said it, willing my licentious thoughts into her head. She stared back at me before flushing again and storming off to fetch my beer. Maybe I would enjoy my vacation after all.

Chapter Five

Hayley

Dang it. If he kept giving me eyes like that, I wasn't going to make it through my shift without jumping him. I wondered what the other bar patrons would think if the bartender and one of the customers started fiercely making out on the bar top. I doubt they'd mind. I'm sure worse has happened within these walls.

Still, that wasn't going to be the case. I was here to work; he was here to drink. The only relationship we would be having was me handing him beers and him handing me money.

After pouring a pint for him, I passed it over and turned away before he could say anything else. Men were trouble — no if’s, and’s, or but’s. I'd come to that tough-to-swallow realization when the last man in my life had unceremoniously made the Great Escape. That wouldn't have been too much of a problem in itself — if he hadn't taken off with my savings at the same time.

I was just working here until I got enough money to go back to school, and I tried to keep that in mind during the moments when I felt myself slipping too far into the bartender role. It was like a groove had been hollowed out just for me on the grimy floor behind the counter. If I finished school and wanted to come back, that was fine, but I had to keep my eyes on the prize.

No part of my plan involved getting my heartbroken by another sexy asshole with a motorcycle.

The bar steadily became a bit busier over the course of the evening. Wednesday was our music bingo night, and you might not think it, but bikers love music bingo.

I saw a few regulars besides Herb, and greeted them. We didn't really have much in the way of regulars. There were a couple locals who liked to hang out in the bar when it wasn't too busy, but other than that, the people I knew ebbed and flowed with the changing of the seasons, their club's events, and whatever they turned their fancy to at the time.

Tamsy started handing out the bingo cards, and I went along the bar to see who wanted one. Herb always did music bingo, but he only marked down half of the songs that were played. He either didn't know much about music or just didn't care all that much about bingo. When I slid a sheet in front of Sexy Asshole (my new name for him), he simply fixed me with a disbelieving grin.

"You think I want to play music bingo?"

I met his challenging gaze. "Everybody wants to play music bingo."

When the silence lengthened, I went to pull the paper back. His hand shot out and landed on top of mine.

"What do I get if I win?" he asked.

"Depends on the round. Top prize is two hundred and fifty bucks," I replied.

His eyes bore into mine, as he enunciated his next words. "Not good enough."

Call me an idiot, but I liked to play with fire.

"What would tempt you?" I smiled coquettishly.

"You."

I could have sworn you could see my heart pounding in my chest when he said that. All of the sudden, his hand on mine felt like I was dipping my fingers into fire. I smoothed out my expression and answered, "Seems hardly fair to raise the stakes so high without making them equally high for you."

He shrugged. "Fair enough. Name your terms, Hayley."

Having him say my name was like music to my ears. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he won.

"I want to know what's got you so pent up," I said. "And, who the heck you are."

He lifted his hand from mine and extended it out. "I'll take a dabber, please."

Our DJ, Stan, began to go into his spiel about how the game was played, what the prizes were, etc., etc., but I barely heard it. I made a show of checking on the other people at the bar to see if they needed anything, but I was really just trying to distract myself from thinking about our little bargain.

Each player had two games, and each game had two chances of winning. There were a couple dozen people in the bar, all playing music bingo.

I didn't know much about odds or statistics, and now, I was wishing I had paid more attention when I took it in freshman year.

Stan started playing the music, and I couldn't help but scan Sexy Asshole's card out of the corner of my eye each time I passed to do my rounds. I did my rounds more than usual.

The first two songs were busts for him, but the third one he had. He looked up and caught me staring when he found it on his sheet, and smiled devilishly as he dabbed the square. I felt a hot shiver run through me. He got a few squares on the first card, but didn't get anywhere close to making a full line. I wasn't sure whether I was relieved or put out.

There was a break between games, and during the break, he ordered another beer. I tried to act nonchalant as I checked out his card.

"Doesn't look like you're doing so hot, chief," I observed.

He smirked. "It's fine. I'm used to going for a few rounds."

I was pouring his drink at the time and it spilled over. I let go of the tap and sloshed the drink in front of him. He laughed, and it was the first time I'd seen his eyes filled only with humor, and none of the darkness that I was so familiar with.

"Since I lost one game, and don't intend to lose another, I think it's fair that I give you a little something about me," he said.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"My name. It's Gage."

"Gage," I said. "Nice name."

He gave me a cocky smile. "I'm only telling you because that way, you have something to call out later."