He did it because that was our time. The dump was never busy in the mornings, and on many occasions, that was the best time to get a glimpse of the black bears that came to forage through the waste. I’d always loved watching them, just like Harrison loves watching them now. But when we take Harrison, it’s not the bears my father and I watch, it’s Harrison. His excitement and curiosity fill my heart with more love than I’ve ever felt, just like my father had with me when I was a child.
A motorcycle revs as it passes, ripping me from my thoughts and reminding me of my surroundings. The Moose Knuckle Tavern is up ahead, and even though it’s not yet four o’clock, the parking lot and street around it are already filled with bikes.
People in leather stand around outside, talking, smoking, and laughing, enjoying the beautiful weather and loud music floating out from inside.
Fucking bike week.
I stop at the edge of the parking lot and take a deep breath. You can do this, Cora. Go in, make drinks, earn some tips. And if need be, bust some heads.
My pep talk doesn’t quite do the trick, though, because as soon as I get inside, all I want to do is turn around and run right back out.
The bar is packed. Women are dancing around, pressing their bodies against the men who don’t seem to mind a bit. But that’s not what bothers me. It’s the vibe, the aura. Something’s off. Something’s gonna happen—I can feel it.
TWATKNOT
The booming musicat the Moose Knuckle encompasses the entire space, and I can barely hear the woman next to me speak.
“Why do they call you TwatKnot?” The pretty little brunette nestled up under my arm smiles up at me under her thick eyelashes. Her friends look shocked at her question. One of them even nudges her in the ribs with her elbow. “What? I’m just curious.”
Which one of my fucking brothers told her my nickname? I’d told her to call me TK, and never elaborated on the extent of what it meant. There was no reason for it, since she’ll be a distant memory come morning.Ifshe even makes it that far.
I glare over at a few of my brothers. With a shit-eating grin, V flips me the bird.Fucker. Part of me wishes I had gone out to one of the other bars that the rest of the club had ventured off to after our group dinner. I just had the unfortunate pleasure of V, Priest, and Burnt tagging along with me. And with all of us, the cut bunnies came to us in droves. Not that I minded.
V laughs. “Yeah, what does it mean?”
“It means I’m gonna kick your lily-white ass later,” I growl back at him.
“Love to see you try.”
Turning my attention back to the girl, I grin at her. “Ignore whatever these assholes say. And to your question, how about you come back with me to my place tonight and I’ll show you?” Her cheeks flush at the proposition.
“And keep us awake all fucking night again,” a brother mutters under his breath. I clearly hear him, but she’s so focused on me, she probably wouldn’t hear a bomb drop.
“What’s in it for me?” she coos. The sweet smell of the fruity cocktail she’d brought with her to my table lingers on her breath as she leans over and tries to kiss me. Just inches from my lips, I stop her by placing my finger between us.
“If you have to ask that question, sugar, you may not be able to handle a guy like me,” I whisper.
Her breath hitches, pushing her massive tits toward my face. Something I’d planned on doing later if my other plans fell through—without the bra straining to hold them together, and in a much less public setting. Though, that hasn’t stopped me before.
“I can handle you.”
“Doubt that, but I’d love to see you try.” She tries to push against my finger, but I hold my ground. Kissing is too intimate for my tastes. It implies too much for a one-night stand and gives them hope that I’ll see them again. I already know she wants more than I’m willing to offer, so it’s time to nip that shit in the bud. “Your friends can come too.” The statement hits her hard. It has to be to get my point across.
“What?” She leans back, the statement hitting her hard. The color drains from her face and her body goes rigid.
“I’m just messing with you, sugar,” I say, trying quickly to recover. She looks nervously at her friends who shrug with indifference, but one of the girls looks over at me curiously, so I shoot her a wink. She bites her lip ring in response, toying with it between her luscious lips. If I go down in burning flames with my true purpose of coming here, she’s at least game.
Leaning forward, I grab my beer and finish it in one long swig before setting the bottle down with a thud.
“You ladies need another drink?”
The brunette says nothing, but her friends fire off a list of fruity cocktails and shots. Shoving away from the table, I make my way through the rowdy crowd toward the bar and discover the mouthy bartender I’d offended a few nights ago by ordering a Skinny Bitch.
She’s slinging drinks like a pro, smiling at the patrons lining the bar, waving their money at her. An older man to her left reaches out, grabbing her arm, and she immediately recoils. The glare on her face has me ready to step in and handle the situation, but she reacts by forcefully removing his hand in one swift move.
“Touch me again, I’ll cut your balls off and nail them to the bar.” The way her eyes bore into his, so angry, so determined, makes me straighten my posture, even knowing I’m not on the receiving end of that look. Her threat is clear as day, and I have no doubt she means every fucking word of it.
The man looks shocked at her response. Fingering a couple of twenties from his wallet, he slides them across the wooden bar top. “Didn’t mean any harm, ma’am.”