“You didn’t text last night. Next time send the text.” His tone was somewhere between demand and concern. He brushed the back of his fingers gently down her cheek. “I worry about you.”
She swallowed hard trying to regain control of her runaway hormones, but memories of last night drifted in. I’m this way because it’s you. She wanted that almost kiss. He’d had her wanting more from nearly the very first time they’d met. She’d seen him snap into protective mode, and she’d seen him melt over Tru and Gemma’s babies. He was as fierce and intimidating a protector as he was a gentle and kind friend, and she sensed that he’d love a woman with tenderness and devotion that she once thought only happened in storybooks.
It was those thoughts that had her fumbling to find her voice.
“Hi. What are you doing here? How’d it go last night?” An awful thought raced through her mind. What if he hadn’t been at the boy’s house all night? What if this was his morning-after-a-random-hookup look? A herd of elephants trampled through her stomach.
“It went well,” he said, ignoring her first question in typical Bear fashion. “We escorted Scooter to school this morning, and he went right up to that bully and said, ‘I’m not afraid of you anymore.’ It was great to see him so confident.”
She sighed with relief. He had been there all night after all. “I guess intimidation goes a long way.” Catching her knee-jerk snarkiness, she added, “I mean that in a good way. Anyone would feel safe with burly bikers like you and your brothers on their side.”
“Yeah?” He leaned closer. “Then how do I make you feel?”
Hot and bothered and scared of losing my self-control. “Like I need to get back to work.”
“Hey, Bear,” Gemma said as she walked by.
“Hi, Gemma. Sorry to take Crystal away last night, but her stomach was growling like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. I was afraid for her life.”
Crystal laughed.
“No worries.” Gemma winked at her. “I’m still waiting on the details.”
Bear put his arm around Crystal’s waist. “You mean she hasn’t told you we’re a couple yet?”
“We are not a couple.” She slipped from his grip and pushed the rack into place. “Nothing has changed.”
“Don’t be coy, sugar. Gemma’s pulling for us.”
He strutted behind the counter, and Crystal shot Gemma a what-the-hell look.
“What? He’s sort of right,” Gemma said.
Bear grabbed Crystal’s car keys from the hook where she kept them.
“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?” she asked as he came around the counter. “Give me my keys.”
Bear shoved them in the front pocket of his jeans with a cocky grin.
She heard Gemma laugh.
“Hand them over.” She thrust her hand out again, and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her against him as he’d done last night. He smelled earthy and manly, like Tarzan. Thoughts of playing in Tarzan’s jungle rolled through her mind, setting off alarm bells, and she pushed away.
Confusion wrinkled his brow. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I’m taking care of that inspection you need, babe. No need to get all up in arms. I’ll bring your keys back later.”
“You’re…my inspection? How did you know I needed one?” She looked at Gemma again, wondering if she’d told him, but Gemma shook her head.
“You mentioned it last night,” he reminded her.
Holy cow. He remembered? “But you haven’t slept, have you?”
“I caught an hour or two on the lawn. I’m good to go.”
The bells chimed over the door, and a group of giggling girls walked in with their mothers in tow.
“Hi. Welcome to Princess for a Day,” Crystal said to the group, then quickly returned her attention to Bear as Gemma went to greet the customers.
His eyes drifted down her cheerleader outfit again, making a purely male sound of appreciation loud enough for her ears only, and damn, her insides lit right up.
“Maybe you can cheer for me later.” He blew her a kiss and headed for the door.
She watched him strut out of the boutique wondering how she was supposed to concentrate on a birthday party for seven little girls when her big-girl body was on fire.
BEAR PACED THE parking lot of Whiskey Automotive with the phone pressed to his ear, discussing last night’s events with his father. Although his father no longer rode, he still ran the Dark Knights. He listened to his slow, slightly-hard-to-understand speech, a harsh reminder of the stroke he’d suffered shortly after Bear’s high school graduation. The stroke had taken more than his father’s once rapid and demanding verbal abilities. It had rendered his left side weak, his left hand clumsy, and had kept Bear from pursuing his dream of going to college to becoming a motorcycle designer. With Bullet out of the country on a military tour, Bones entrenched in medical school, Dixie a mere fifteen years old, and his mother, a nurse, caring for his father as he endured months of therapy, Bear had stepped in to run the bar. A few years later, his uncle Axel, who had run the auto shop and had taught Bear everything he knew about cars, passed away. He left the shop to Bear’s family, and Bear had taken over running the shop, too.
“Sounds like it went well,” his father said. “We need to meet to discuss the bar.”
Both businesses were owned in equal partnerships between his father, Bear, and each of Bear’s siblings. Since Bullet’s return to civilian life, he’d taken over the day-to-day operations of the bar, while Bear and Dixie handled the business management of both the bar and the shop. Dixie and their mother, who was now retired, worked part-time at the bar, and Bear took on bartending shifts as needed. They were all stretched for time, but their father refused to hire outside of the family. Bear was waiting for that decision to bite them in the ass.
“I think it’s time to make some changes,” his father said. “Can you come by the house tomorrow morning?”
Not if all goes well with Crystal tonight. “I’m not sure, Pop. Probably not, but I’ll talk to Dixie and make sure she’s there. She can fill me in.”
His father was silent for a beat. A fucking annoying beat. Dixie was an equal partner in the businesses, but despite that, their father refused to give Dixie any say in them. Biggs had been raised by a hard-core biker with old-school beliefs that went back several generations. The men in their family bore the weight of all major responsibilities. It went hand in hand with the all-male motorcycle club mentality. Bear didn’t have an issue with responsibility. He’d taken on more than his share over the years. But he took issue with excluding his sister, especially since she’d not only helped keep the businesses above water, but she’d made them even more profitable.
The struggle between family loyalty and the inequity of how their father treated Dixie left Bear harboring a nugget of resentment, like a festering wound that wouldn’t heal.
“We’ll do it another time,” his father said, pushing Dixie to the side once again and leaving no room for negotiation.
Harley, Bear’s favorite of the new litter of kittens that were born to Big Mama, the auto shop cat, rubbed against his leg. He bent down and picked her up, tucking her against his chest. She purred the loudest of the litter, and she stuck to Bear like glue. Her cuteness helped push away the familiar discomfort that accompanied business conversations with his father.
“Still trying to rope that little gal?” his father asked, as if he hadn’t just rubbed Bear the wrong way.
Bear smiled at his choice of words. Trying to get together with Crystal often made him feel like he was trying to lasso a wild pony. It had bugged the hell out of him that she hadn’t texted last night. He’d thought they’d broken new ground. But he wasn’t about to give up. Eyes never lied, and Crystal’s screamed, I want you.
“Crystal,” he reminded him. His parents had met Crystal in passing when she was hanging out at the bar with the rest of them, but his father was never big on names. “And yes, you could say that.” He scratched the top o
f Harley’s head. The little calico nuzzled against him.
“It’s been a long time, son. Sure you’re not barking up the wrong tree?”
At thirty-three, Bear had sown more than his share of wild oats, but he’d never met a woman who made him want more than a few hot nights. Until Crystal. She had a spark of rebellion that had captured his attention right off the bat, and a sweeter, more vulnerable side that she tried her best to hide. The combination had reeled him right in. He wanted to strip away all those layers and get to the heart of who she was. And after months of getting to know her, building a friendship that bordered on coupledom—without the physical side—he had a feeling they’d fall perfectly into sync.
“Definitely not,” he said. “Listen, Pop, I’ve got to run. I’ve got her car, and I need to get it back to her before she gets off work.” And he hoped to finally convince her to give in to the undeniable heat between them and give him a chance. He had to work at the bar tomorrow night, and he didn’t want to wait another day. Not after they’d come so close to finally crossing the line from friends to something more.
They talked for another minute, and his father wished him luck with Crystal. He knew plenty of guys who couldn’t stand their parents, and Bear considered himself lucky in that department, despite their differences. His father had always been hard on them, pushing them to be the best they could be. When you think you’re done with something, look it over again and see how you can make it better. And his mother was as straightforward as a dart. There was a no-bullshit-accepted rule in the Whiskey household. But he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he were in trouble, they’d always be there to back him up. Just like he was in his father’s time of need. He’d never questioned their love or devotion to any of their children, including Dixie, despite his father’s old-school ways with regard to business.
He went into the shop and headed for the playroom. When Truman had shown up with Kennedy and Lincoln the morning after he’d rescued them, he’d been afraid to leave them with anyone else. They’d renovated the shop to include a playroom with a fenced-in outdoor play area, and now he and Dixie helped care for them. Eventually they’d need to hire a babysitter, as it was getting more difficult and dangerous to get their work done with curious little ones underfoot, but Bear loved having them around.
Tru had taken Kennedy out on a father-daughter dinner date, and Dixie was watching Lincoln while Gemma went to the grocery store. Dixie looked up from where she sat on the floor with Lincoln in her lap.
The adorable tyke clutched a fistful of Dixie’s flame-red locks and reached for Bear, yanking her hair. “Babababa!”
“Ow. You little rascal.” Dixie untangled his fingers from her hair and kissed his pudgy hand. “Now I understand why Bullet shaved his beard. This little man has a powerful grip.”
Bear set Harley on the floor and reached for Lincoln. Spending time with Lincoln and Kennedy had fueled his love of babies. He’d always known he wanted a family, and watching Truman, Gemma, and the babies build their lives together had amped up that desire. “He could be your son with that strawberry-blond hair.”
“Bababababa,” Lincoln babbled as Bear kissed his cheek.
“Don’t jinx me. I need a baby like I need a hole in the head.” Dixie was the youngest of his siblings, and the mouthiest. At five nine, she was tall and thin, with colorful tattoos that rivaled her brothers’. She was the only one of them to take after their mother’s side of the family. She shared her red hair and green eyes, while Bear and his brothers took after Biggs, with dark hair and brown eyes. “You should really take Harley home with you. She wants to be yours.”
“She can be mine here. I like having her at the shop with me. I’d miss her if she was at my house all day.”
“You’re such a softie,” Dixie teased, petting the kitty. “Tru told me he dropped you at Crystal’s work this morning and he was supposed to pick you up after you got her car inspected. But you still have her car…?”
Of all his siblings, he’d always been closest to Dixie. Together they’d weathered their father’s stroke, helped their mother cope, and brought both businesses to new heights. Dixie was as overprotective of him as he and his brothers were of her. “Our date got cut short last night. I’m hoping to make it up to her tonight.”
“Did she know it was a date? Tru said you absconded with her.”
He tickled Lincoln’s belly and handed the giggling boy back to Dixie.
“You worry too much, and Tru knows me better than that. You’ve seen her with me, Dix. You know how she feels about me.”
“You two do always look like you’re going to rip each other’s clothes off, but that doesn’t mean you’re a couple. You know I freaking love Crystal, but it’s been months of this flirtatious game you’re playing. I worry you’re going to smother her and get your brawny heart broken.”
“If I get lucky, I’ll smother her all right.” He made kissing sounds and went for the door, waving as he walked out.
He thought about what Dixie had said as he drove through town, but no matter how he turned it in his head, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever this was between him and Crystal, it was worth the wait.
The door to the boutique was locked. The lights in the front of the store were off, but the back was lit up. He peered through the glass door and saw Crystal bent over a table. The skirt of her cheerleading outfit barely covered her ass, and her thigh-high stockings took his mind to dark places. He imagined a black lace thong riding high on her hips underneath that sexy little skirt, and taking it off with his teeth. His mouth watered at the thought.
Crystal stretched, arching her back and thrusting her magnificent breasts forward. Her red and black cropped cheerleading top lifted, exposing a few inches of taut flesh. His fingers itched to touch her. He longed to feel her hot naked flesh beneath him, to see her hair fanned out on his pillow while she cried out his name in the throes of passion. Fuck. He was hard as steel. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.
Who was he kidding? He hadn’t gotten a hard-on for another woman in months.
As if she felt his presence, Crystal glanced up at the door, and his body thrummed. Jesus, what was he? A horny teenager?
No, jackass. A guy who has gone without for too fucking long and knows there’s only one woman to satisfy him.
Crystal strutted up the center of the store with the confidence of a model on a catwalk. Her hips swayed, her shoulders squared, and that long black hair he wanted to wind around his fingers cascaded behind her, as if she were walking into the wind. Or maybe that was just his sex-starved mind working overtime, because he also imagined her completely naked, save for those sexy stockings and heels, beckoning him forward with a come-hither stare. Come, baby, come.
The sound of the locks turning snapped his brain into gear. He shook his head to clear his dirty thoughts as she pushed the door open.
“You okay?” She dragged her eyes down his body, lingering on the erection he had no chance of hiding. “Hard evening?”
He stepped into the boutique and turned the lock on the door. She had a badass reputation as a girl who was into tough guys. Bear wondered if he hadn’t been aggressive enough with his playful banter. Tonight he’d step it up and give her what she seemed to find attractive in other guys. Or at least what she used to. He hadn’t heard her talk about any other guys in months, and his gut told him it was because she was totally, one hundred percent into him. He just needed to get past whatever was holding her back.
“Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.” He walked forward, backing her up until she hit the costumes hanging on a rack. “I’m not sure how I feel about you dressing like this in public.”
“You have no say in how I dress.”
He gathered her in his arms, and she squirmed.
“What are you doing?”
“More than eight months, baby.” His hands moved down her back to the dip at the base of her spine. “That’s a long damn time to be th
inking about you the way I think about you.”
“Then don’t,” she challenged.
He touched his lips to her cheek, feeling her heart hammering against his. “What are you waiting for, Crystal? You know I want you. I know you want me.”
“What I know,” she said in a firm voice, “is if you move your hands an inch lower, my knee is going to put a permanent end to your ability to have a hard anything.”
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly. “What scares you so much that you have to toy with me?”
She clutched his chest, the color draining from her face. “Bear, please stop.”
He stepped back, shocked by the conflicting emotions staring back at him, and fought the urge to pull her back into his arms and protect her. From himself?
“Crystal, you know I’d never really force myself on you. I was just playing around.”
She rolled her eyes, scoffing as she walked away. “No shit.”
“So, what’s wrong? Shit, babe. The last thing I want to do is scare you.”
“Your chick meter is off. I’m not scared. I’m just not in the mood for this. It’s been a long day, and it’s not nearly over.”
“Christ.” He let out a relieved breath. “You scared the piss out of me.”
“Sure it was piss?” She glanced at his jeans and raised her brows. He’d gone soft at the fear he’d thought he’d seen in her eyes. “Looks like we took care of that mighty sword of yours.”
“Not quite the way I had envisioned,” he mumbled.
Chapter Three
“REALLY, BEAR. I can drop you at your place before I go to the fabric shop.” Crystal started the car, feeling more in control than she had inside the shop. She hated the way she’d frozen up when things had gotten hot between them. She wanted him. After putting herself through three years of therapy, dealing with not only the trauma of the attack, but the bullshit with her mother and the loss of her father, she was sure she could handle anything. She’d dated other guys since she’d left college without issue. Why did it have to be different with the only guy she wanted to be close to? It pissed her off that her past still owned a piece of her, and she needed to get over it before Bear got fed up and walked away for good.
Truly, Madly, Whiskey Page 4