And she came with too much fucking baggage between her little girl and having a wanted husband.
“Gonna give you two nights up there. That’s it.”
Deke turned toward him and his lips twitched. “Why? Is the whole cancer thing botherin’ you? Or is it the blonde herself?”
“Already spendin’ too much time on this case for only twenty percent. Just wanna get it over with. Either he’s showin’ up in the Grove or he ain’t.”
Deke knocked a shoulder into his. “Maybe get close to her. Get her talkin’. Get a read on her, see what you can pick up from what she puts down.”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“Hang out at Pete’s. Perfect time to strike up some friendly convo.”
“Get Trip, Stel and Dodge involved, too,” Judge added. Not just more eyes looking for Lange, but more ears listening might make their job easier.
“Can’t hurt. Maybe she’ll let somethin’ slip.”
Yeah, maybe she would.
“And you never know what else you may get out of it.” Deke smirked. “You should give that pocket pussy of yours a break. Pretty blonde like that would be a nice change of pace. Give you a few new fantasies for your Fleshlight.”
He wasn’t telling his cousin Cassie already gave him a few new fantasies.
Judge shook his head. “Know you’re a fuckin’ asshole, right?”
His cousin’s grin widened. “Have to be to work with you.”
Judge rose to his feet and so did Jury.
“You headin’ over there to strike up a little convo with her?” Deke wiggled his eyebrows and pinched out the lit end of the joint.
“Fuck no. Not tonight. Gonna let her get a little more comfortable workin’ the bar.”
“So, tomorrow night, then.”
Judge shot him a look. “Yeah, you go work Rochester tomorrow night, I’ll work her.”
“You’re gettin’ the better end of that deal.”
Judge wasn’t going to argue that.
Not one fucking bit.
Cassie almost dropped the two draft beers she was carrying over to the “pool room.” She barely caught them in time, then forced her attention from the door—where Judge and two large dogs just walked in—to her job, which was more important.
Her job was way more important, she reminded herself. If she spilled the beer, she might have to pay for them, and she needed every dime she was earning. Stella was graciously letting her work Thursdays through Sundays, which were the busiest nights.
And she was grateful. So far, her tips had been decent, and Dodge paid her cash after her shift every night once they closed. She’d been squirreling it away in a shoe box at her sister’s house. Every night when she added to it, she counted every dollar all over again. To see that pile grow, even a little, was satisfying. It made her feel not so hopeless.
From now on, she would be in charge of her and Daisy’s destiny. Not anyone else.
Filing for divorce a year ago, getting out of Rochester recently and now getting this job were her first steps toward that. It might be a slow process, but at least she was moving forward.
Just like her feet were doing, as she entered the half-walled area off the main floor, where the pool tables were kept. Even on a Sunday, both were occupied, and quarters lined the rails as people waited their turn to play.
Dodge told her the pool and dart league nights during the week were also lucrative nights to work and maybe Stella would eventually adjust her schedule to include them. Cassie hoped so.
So far everyone had been friendly. For the most part. If any of the men got too friendly or handsy, all she had to do was whisper something to Dodge in passing and he’d have a “discussion” with whomever it was. Usually it was a very “serious” chat with a lot of quick head nodding on the listener’s part.
And usually, the next time Cassie had to serve that table, the occupants were much more respectful.
When things slowed down later in the evening, Dodge—or Stella, if she was still around—would teach her how to work behind the bar. How to pour a draft without a lot of head. How to mix drinks without over pouring. And how to use the old, worn bartender’s bible kept behind the bar. Not too many people asked for mixed drinks other than some liquor mixed with soda, like a simple rum and Coke. And those she could handle easily.
Stella told her to get to know the regulars, learn their names, learn a little about their lives and talk to them as if they were friends. That would help get her bigger tips.
And it did.
Even when her feet ached, she kept a smile on her face and kept the conversation flowing. She didn’t have a problem with small talk, as she had to do it often with her previous job.
While being a “bar maid” was different than being a vet tech, it was also somewhat fun and staying busy kept her mind occupied.
Better yet, she was making cash money.
However, right now her mind was focused on Judge. She, out of the corner of her eye, tracked him heading to the bar and settling his big body on an empty stool.
Cassie put the beers down on a small high table in the pool room, grabbed the cash, and tucked it into the little server apron she wore to keep her tips and make change. Dodge had grinned and shook his head when she showed up with it on Saturday night, but it helped her be better at her job. She also kept a small notepad in one of the pockets in case she got a large order. She didn’t want to rely on her memory, screw up the order and then lose out on a decent tip.
So, Dodge could tease her all he wanted, but she didn’t care.
She picked up a few empties near the pool tables, and as she headed back to the bar, she stopped at a table, asked if she could get the two occupants fresh beers and then moved behind the bar, setting the dirty glasses into the sink and tossing the empty bottles into the recycle bin.
She ignored the giant of a man, whose eyes had followed her once she had hit the corner of the bar. He was watching her as he talked to Dodge, who was standing in front of him and serving him a full pint glass.
Cassie didn’t like when Dodge’s gaze slid toward her as Judge continued to talk. When it slid back to Judge, he wore a grin.
No, she didn’t like that at all.
She sighed and, as she filled two more beer glasses at the taps, Dodge sidled up to her. “Wants you to serve him.”
Cassie kept her eyes focused on the rising beer. “Why?”
“Why does any man wanna talk to a woman?”
“I’m not interested.” She closed the tap and waited for the beer to settle as she added them to the customer’s tab in the register, feeling Judge’s eyes on her the whole time.
Dodge leaned into her. “Tips good.”
Yes, but how much would those big tips cost her? “I’m okay with the customers I have right now.”
Dodge straightened and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug and move away.
Cassie blew out a breath and took the two beers to the waiting customers. She made a quick round checking on all the occupied tables and then froze as she saw Judge move to one, both American bulldogs casually following him. With a satisfied look on his face, he folded his length into a chair and the dogs settled nearby.
Daisy would love those dogs, absolutely go bonkers over them. She was always begging for a dog, but she was too young to be responsible for one. Maybe once they found a place, she’d let her daughter have a guinea pig or something.
Until then...
Until then, she needed tips to get her own place where she could start fresh.
And to get tips, she needed to be nice to customers.
Being nice meant striking up a conversation.
Judge was no different than any other customer in Crazy Pete’s.
Or that was what she told herself.
Because if she looked deep enough, something about the huge biker kept catching her attention.
Maybe it was the way he had talked to Daisy. Maybe it was the way he had been with her.
Even so, she just needed to put her head down and work on moving forward.
Judge could be a huge speed bump. One she didn’t need to hit right now. Especially since she was currently running with only one wheel instead of a whole set. And that one wheel had damage already.
The table was empty in front of him and she glanced toward the bar where he had been previously sitting. He’d downed the beer Dodge had served him at the bar and left the empty glass behind.
Just so she’d have to wait on him.
With a sigh, she braced herself and headed over to him, stopping opposite of where he sat so they’d have the table between them.
She plastered on a smile. “Hi.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, locked on hers and he jerked up his chin. “Yo.” His grunt was so guttural, it sounded like it came deep from within the cavern of his chest. She imagined he could be very loud when he needed to be.
But he didn’t seem the booming type. More on the quiet side unless he had a reason to raise his voice. And most people probably hoped they weren’t that reason. Because she was also sure when he yelled, he could be very scary. His voice, his height—which had to be six-two or six-three—his long, thick beard, those intense green eyes that probably missed nothing...
“What can I get you?”
“Just wanna talk.”
Cassie quickly glanced around the interior of the bar. “I’m busy.”
“Woulda talked to you at the bar, but you refused to wait on me.”
“I didn’t refuse.”
He cocked an eyebrow. His head was covered with a dark gray beanie. Not once had she seen his hair and she wondered if it was as long as his beard. She didn’t like beards that long. She liked them neat and trimmed, where it didn’t hide a man’s features. Maybe a little shorter than Dodge’s.
Though, Judge’s beard seemed to emphasize his nicely shaped lips and those green eyes. And his cheekbones.
He’d probably be really handsome without all that shaggy hair. The hair Daisy was determined to pet.
“I didn’t realize Manning Grove was so small...”
He leaned back and crossed his thick arms over his very broad chest covered in a snug dark gray thermal and his leather biker vest.
“That I’d run into the same people so often,” she finished.
He still said nothing. But his eyes had a lot to say.
She just didn’t speak that language.
“Or maybe it’s not just coincidence.”
She finally realized after talking to him now a few times, what his voice reminded her of.
Slow moving thunder.
“Could be that my MC owns half this bar. Could be that Stella belongs to the club and she owns the other half. Could be the reason.”
“Could be. But I don’t think that’s it.”
Both eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Then what is it?”
“I don’t know. Only you know. You knew my name before I even gave it to you.”
“Still haven’t given it to me.”
“That’s right, I haven’t. But somehow you know it. You know where I work, and I just started here.”
“Just coincidence.”
Cassie dropped her head slightly and stared straight into those green eyes. “Bullshit.”
His lips twitched slightly before he pinned them together.
What the hell was he hiding?
Probably no more than she was.
Damn.
“Beer?” She didn’t wait for his answer and spun on her heel to head back to the bar.
A few minutes later, she returned, mentally cursing the tremble in her hand as she placed the full glass down in front of him. She avoided his eyes. “Would you like to start a tab?”
As her fingers slid from the cold glass, he snagged them, making her gasp.
“Still afraid of me?”
It was no longer fear but more like worry he might know things about her that he shouldn’t. He might know where she’d come from and why she’d shown up in this town. Why she’d been running away. Possibly even from whom.
“No.”
His fingers were warm, long and strong as they held hers. But when his thumb brushed over the spot where her wedding ring used to be, ice slid down her spine and her breathing became hitched. It was like a ghost had walked straight through her.
She yanked her hand, but he didn’t release it. “Let me go,” she whispered, the shake in her words now unmistakable.
Did he somehow know she used to be married? Was it the same way he knew her name?
Who was he and why was he interested in her?
This wasn’t just a man interested in a woman. This was more.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood.
His thumb slid over the spot on her ring finger again. She stared at the slow, precise motion. That little movement was him asking a silent question and he was hoping her finger would give him an unspoken answer.
No indication remained that she used to wear a ring. None. Her wedding ring had been gone long enough that no indentation was left. Her finger showed no evidence of her marriage at all.
None.
However, what kept her still tied to Dennis was his financial and criminal mess. And Daisy, of course.
Hopefully soon it would only be their daughter.
She just needed him to sign the damn divorce papers so she could be free. Problem was, the attorney had stopped looking for him. With their assets frozen, she no longer could pay him. Not only couldn’t her attorney locate Dennis, neither could Dennis’s.
She was told he’d skipped bond.
Which meant this whole thing would be dragged out longer than it should.
Even if she wanted to find him on her own, she couldn’t. She had no funds to do so. She couldn’t pay her attorney. She couldn’t hire an investigator to find Dennis. She was in limbo.
Right now, she was hating with every fiber of her being the man she used to love. If he showed up, she’d kick him right in the damn balls for all the problems he’d caused her. For deceiving her. For betraying his family.
Husbands who loved their wives and children did not do the things he did. He should have walked away, or sought out help, when issues began to arise. Not dragged his family into it with him.
If he had loved them, that was what he should have done.
Which proved the only person he’d loved was himself.
He could’ve saved her and Daisy. He chose not to. He chose to keep her in the dark.
Until it was too late.
He finally released her hand. “Where’s your ring?”
Her heart stuttered. She wasn’t sure whether it was from his question or from that deep voice.
But either way, that simple question didn’t have a simple answer.
And that answer wasn’t one she was willing to share.
Chapter Seven
Judge watched her face carefully as the blood rushed from it and she pulled the hand he’d released into a ball against her chest.
Like it had been singed.
Like his touch had burned her.
Her throat worked and his eyes followed the movement. He wanted to taste her there. Scrape his teeth along that delicate line. Groan against it when he came deep inside her. Grip his fingers around it as he stole the breath from her with his mouth.
That throat belonged to another man. But he wanted it to be his.
He wanted to be the only one to touch it.
He wanted it to be the “property of Judge.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He jerked his head toward her curled up left hand, still held tightly against her chest as it rose and fell at a quick pace. “Your weddin’ ring.”
The pulse in that throat, the one he wanted to make his, pounded so hard, he could see it. “Where is it? Why aren’t you wearin’ it?”
“I’m... I’m not sure who you are, or who you think you are. Or even why you know...” She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her hands to her sides, pressing them against her thighs. When her blue eyes opened, they seared him. “If you want a beer, I’ll serve you a beer. But that’s it. Just wave me down when you need something.”
As she turned, he simply said her name. “Cassie.” She froze in place. “We need to talk.”
She turned her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. “No, we don’t. Please sit at the bar and let Dodge serve you.”
“Not here to drink.” Which was true. He could drink at The Barn for free. Hell, he could knock a few back out in the courtyard or in his apartment. Or even burn a fatty in peace at the farm.
But that was not why he was there. He also shouldn’t blow his cover. He didn’t need Cassie telling Lange that someone was looking for him in Manning Grove. That would screw his chance at that twenty percent.
Though, suddenly it was no longer about the money.
And the reason it wasn’t was because she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.
Not just that, but because there was no mark where a ring would be.
It hadn’t been taken off recently.
It had been gone for a while.
It had taken some time before any sign of his own wedding band had disappeared. The ring he’d been forced to wear even though he hated most jewelry. He’d only worn it to keep the peace.
But that ring had left a mark.
In more ways than one.
“Why are you here, then?”
“To get to know you.” That wasn’t a lie.
“I’m not interested.”
He tilted his head and let his gaze run over her from the top of her blonde head to her booted toe. “Kinda gettin’ that.”
“Then you can be a gentleman and respect that.”
One side of his mouth curled up and he stroked his beard. “Oh, baby, I’m no fuckin’ gentleman.”
A flush rose into her cheeks and her mouth flattened. “Call me if you need me.” She turned her head and began to head back to the bar again.
“Cassie,” he called out, making her freeze once more. This time she didn’t look back.
Blood & Bones: Judge (Blood Fury MC Book 3) Page 9