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“We’re natural allies. You want the valley safe, Shane wants the valley safe. Short term, your club and the Reapers MC need the Vegas Belles out of commission. Jamie Callaghan will be coming up this week to look things over—might be the best shot we ever have to get him. We’ll provide the intel on his visit, you provide the muscle. Everyone wins.”

I considered it, then nodded.

“I’ll talk to Boonie,” I told him. “Then I’ll head up to the school. Just remember, we’re not playing games here. You get that?”

Rourke laughed, sounding older and more cynical than any kid his age had a right to be.

“We already have a long list of people who want to take us out,” he said. “Trust me, we aren’t looking to add to it.”

“Fair enough.”

I rolled the unlit cigarette in my fingers. I should crush it, throw it off the porch. Tucked it into my pocket instead.

Fuck smoking and fuck Becca.

Maybe a good fight with the Callaghans would clear the air. Not like I had much to lose, no matter how it played out. Rourke Malloy was right about one thing, though. We definitely didn’t want Jamie Callaghan taking over the Laughing Tess.

BECCA

After my little time-out in the cooler, things got better. Puck still didn’t talk to me, but all things considered, that was a lesser evil. I felt his eyes following me but I forced myself not to pay attention.

It helped that the bar was hopping and the students were running me ragged, bitching about their drinks and insisting I was fucking things up. By the third time Blake had to remake a Sex on the Beach—“It’s just not quite right, you know? What kind of vodka did he use? And is that pineapple juice? I wanted pineapple juice”—I was about ready to poison them.

Just keeping up with their shit was a full-time job. I had to watch them constantly. That’s why I noticed that when the scary-looking one strolled outside the bar for a smoke, Puck followed him.

“You see that?” I asked Danielle quietly as we passed each other at the service bar. “Puck went after that guy. You think there’s something going on there?”

“Nope,” she said firmly. “And if there was, you wouldn’t want to know about it anyway so let it go.”

Good point.

Unfortunately, the rest of the students were still thirsty and when I hit their table again, a guy with muddy brown hair tried to cop a feel. I dodged him, my smile hardening. He offered a drunken smirk, which pissed off the very tipsy redheaded girl sitting next to him.

“Could you move any slower?” she sniped.

“Sorry,” I managed to grit out, but when I hit the service bar again I leaned across toward Danielle, who had taken a break serving drinks to wash glasses.


“I’ve had it with those fuckers,” I hissed. “One just went for my ass.”

“Let me handle it. What did they order?”

“Couple more pitchers.”

With a wink, she grabbed a pitcher and dunked it quickly in the soapy water, capturing about three inches of the liquid. Then she started filling it with beer.

“You’re gonna get fired!” I hissed, looking around to see if anyone noticed. Nobody was paying attention except for Blake, who raised a brow but said nothing.

“I’m not even officially on the clock,” she replied, grabbing a second pitcher and doing the same. “Just doing my part to help some friends. Not my fault if Teresa hasn’t taught me the proper procedure for washing dishes yet. Go bring those assholes their beer—it’s your job to provide excellent service, regardless of whether you like them.”

I grinned at her.

“I love you.”

“I know,” she replied, using her best Han Solo voice.

Two minutes later I was setting the pitchers in the center of their table, biting my lip to keep from giggling. Did this make me a bad person? Absolutely, but when the asshole caught my leg again and groped the inside of my thigh, any lingering guilt disappeared. That douche deserved whatever he got and then some. Fucker.

Ten minutes later Puck and his new friend came back inside. He spoke to Boonie, then caught my eye. We stared at each other across the bar, and I’d have given my sewing machine to know what he was thinking.

He shook his head and walked out again.

That’s when I caught a break, because the alpha-type student waved at me. I walked over to him, startled to realize how big he was. He wasn’t quite as young as I’d thought, either. Probably my age.

“Can you close everyone out?” he asked. “We’re headed back to the school for a party.”

Like I cared what they were doing? I just wanted them gone.

“Sure thing.” I ran the credit cards and brought their checks, forcing myself to smile even though I wanted to flip all of them off. Then I grabbed their empties in a not-so-subtle move designed to hint that they should get the fuck out. Hopefully they wouldn’t short me on the tip but I wasn’t willing to stick around to see.

That’s when Handsy Boy snapped his fingers at me like a dog.

I spun on him, fully intending to hit his head with my tray, dirty glasses and all.

“Let me handle this,” Danielle said, her voice grim. “Take a minute to calm down out back—if Teresa has a problem, I’ll let her know. Now give me the tray and get your ass out of here.”

Handing it over, I made tracks for the back, passing by the bathrooms and through the “Staff Only” door to the porch. As soon as the door swung shut behind me, my chest loosened. God, I hated jerks like that. The sounds of the bar were muffled out here. I sat on the steps, wrapping my arms around my knees and breathing deep, trying to settle myself down.


Tags: Joanna Wylde Silver Valley Romance