If the MC hadn’t claimed Grace as their base of operations, other violent groups would’ve overrun the town and left it a smoking mess. According to Razor, before the MC took over, chaos and gang wars frequently broke out in Grace.
“Pretty boring. Smooth deliveries,” Razor said.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” she asked him.
Razor reached for her hand across the table and gave it a kiss. “I suppose it is.”
The waitress returned with wine and appetizers. The steaks soon arrived after. Razor and she talked about mundane things. He asked her how work was going.
“I really enjoy working at the café,” she admitted. “I know I’m free to leave once I find a better job, but I’ve decided to work alongside Mrs. Lowe a little while longer.”
Razor snorted. “It’s a miracle you managed to win over that grumpy old widow. She dotes on Grizzly, but she’s a beast to the rest of us.”
“What’s her story?” Nat asked out of curiosity. Mrs. Lowe had been tightlipped about her past association with the club.
“Her brother used to ride with the MC. Gus got killed in an accident a few years back. She still blames us for his death, although King had warned Gus not to ride after drinking so much.”
“I see. That’s sad,” she murmured.
Dinner had been enjoyable, the steaks delicious. Razor and she shared a dessert afterward. She half expected Razor to tell her a fancy place like this didn’t suit him at all, but he’d been polite to everyone, especially the wait staff, the entire evening.
After Nat paid their bill, Razor suggested they go for a walk.
“A walk sounds good,” she agreed. “I feel really full.”
Loud voices reached their ears. It came from the restaurant’s entrance. A portly, balding man in his fifties argued with the head waiter. To Nat, it appeared more like bullying.
“Don’t you know who I am? I demand you find me and my girlfriend a table this instant,” the man said, taking a threatening step toward the frightened waiter. His girlfriend looked to be no older than Nat. She stood to one side, looking bored, eyes glued to her phone.
“But sir, we’re booked solid tonight…” the waiter sputtered.
“Then bump someone less important off,” the man said.
Nat cringed. She despised entitled men like these. Vulture always bullied his way into any establishment in town as well. Razor peeled himself from her and strode up to the obnoxious guy.
“Why don’t you stay quiet and wait like everyone else here? You’re ruining everyone’s fucking evening,” Razor said in a careful voice.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” The bald man looked like he had plenty more to say, but he froze when he saw Razor wearing his cut with the Ruthless Reapers MC patch on it. He gulped. Nat thought he’d wise up and settle down, but instead, he sneered at Razor. “You hoodlums are a menace to this town.”
Razor shoved the noisy asshole against one corner, moving faster than Nat expected. Her man peeled his jacket open, flashing something, probably a gun tucked inside. The man turned pale. Nat approached Razor, wondering how far he’d take this.
“Behave unless you want to die tonight in front of your pretty girlfriend.” Nat was close enough to hear Razor’s threat. The man bobbed his head in acquiesce. Razor released him, then patted invisible dirt off the man’s dinner jacket.
“Have a good evening,” Razor said. “Let’s go, Nat.”
He offered her his arm, and she took it. ‘Thank you,” the head waiter mouthed to them as they left the restaurant.
“That proved to be an exciting evening,” she said with a laugh. A cold blast of night air hit her face and shoulders, and she shivered in her thin cardigan. Without another word, Razor took off his leather jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
“Better?” Razor asked her. They started down the sidewalk. Most of the shops in town closed early. They passed antique shops, a dinner. A bookstore still remained open.
“Uh-huh,” she answered. “What about you?”
“Don’t you worry about me. I have thick skin,” he said, making her laugh. “If I do get cold, then you just have to help me warm up once we return to the clubhouse.”
Nat grinned. “Oh, I don’t mind doing that.”
She reached for Razor’s hand, and he took it. “Razor,” she said after they walked for a good solid half hour without talking.
“Hmm? What is it, baby? Wanna head back?”
“No, let’s keep walking for a little while longer.” Nat paused, gathering her thoughts. She gave Razor’s fingers a squeeze. “I made my decision. I don’t have any plans of leaving you or this town, not anytime soon.”
His smile felt like the sun. “That’s fucking good to hear.”
The moment he said those words, a flash went off across the street. Razor released Nat’s fingers and reached for the gun tucked in his belt.