“You know the leather vest I wear?” Bullet asked. “The patch on the back represents the Dark Knights. Every club and gang has patches that represent their club and members’ statuses in the club.”
Finlay drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “So…what? You have them all memorized or something?”
“Pretty much,” Dixie said.
“Listen, Finlay,” Bullet said carefully. “I admire you for wanting to do right by our family’s bar, but there are reasons Whiskey’s is the way it is.”
Her lips thinned with displeasure, and he knew he wasn’t going to get off without a clearer explanation.
“Do you know why the bar is on the edge of town? Why Peaceful Harbor isn’t overrun with gangs and all the bullshit that goes on in other towns?”
“I can’t even imagine Peaceful Harbor with gangs.” Finlay’s gaze moved between him and Dixie. “I get it. You don’t want me to change the bar. But I still think it’s a mistake. You’re asking me to make the bar better, but no one will know it is except your current customers.”
“Finlay look at me.” He waited until he had her full attention. “I didn’t want this expansion in the first place, but I understand why everyone else did and why we need to bring in more income and change things up a little. I’m on board with that. But there are things that cannot change. Once you understand the history, you’ll realize I’m not just being a dick.”
She winced. “I hate that word.”
“Yeah, well, you probably hate half my vocabulary, and that’s not going to change either. This is who I am, Finlay. I curse and I protect my family and this town at all costs. Period.”
Her gaze darted to Dixie, who nodded. “It’s the Dark Knights way, and cursing? That’s Bullet’s way. He’s honest, Fin. I don’t think he knows how to be any other way.”
Bullet was warmed by his sister’s words. “There’s never a reason to lie. We were brought up to be straight shooters, and I’m not about to try to pretend I’m something I’m not. I’m a Whiskey, and I’m proud to be a Whiskey. Our great-grandfather founded this bar and the Dark Knights, and he protected this town. Whiskey’s was built on the edge of town because that’s where you stop trouble from coming in. Once bad news comes over the bridge into Peaceful Harbor, it’s got only one way to go—forward—and all sorts of hell can break loose until it finds its way back outta town. If it finds its way out.”
“I know this probably sounds far-fetched to you, Fin,” Dixie said, “but Peaceful Harbor is peaceful because the riffraff has been kept out.”
“Our ancestors, and the Dark Knights brotherhood, spent years claiming this town, defining our territory,” Bullet explained. “And every generation of the Dark Knights since has protected it. And we’ll continue to. If a gang came in and tried to claim this territory, or even tried to operate within it to sell drugs, or whatever, our family—the Dark Knights—would take whatever action was necessary to defend it.”
Finlay looked nervously at Dixie. “Okay, now you’re just scaring me. You make it seem like my quaint hometown could turn into a nightmare at any time.”
Bullet and Dixie exchanged a knowing glance. They knew how real that possibility was. They also knew it would take a hell of a battle for any other group to overtake the Dark Knights.
He took Finlay’s hand in his and said, “You don’t have to worry about that. We’ve got this town. Nobody’s going to mess with us.”
“But…” She looked pleadingly at Dixie. “You said whatever action is necessary. Does that mean you’d fight? You just got done telling me that you were different from a gang.”
“We are,” Dixie insisted. “Nobody goes looking for trouble.”
“But if it comes here, we’ll take whatever measures we need to.”
Fear rose in Finlay’s eyes. “Like fighting? Killing?”
“Do you think I’d ever let any harm come to my family?” Bullet asked.
“No.”
“To Tru’s kids? To Gemma? Crystal? To you, or Penny, or anyone else in this town? Our town? The town my ancestors fought to make great for us?”
Finlay shook her head.
“It scares you, and I get that. I’d rather you didn’t think about it,” he said honestly. “But it doesn’t scare me. This is my reason for being here, to protect.”
“You say it like it’s your calling,” she said anxiously.
He shrugged. “It is.” Just because you get out of the military doesn’t make you any less of a soldier.
Dixie nodded in agreement. “Now do you see why he doesn’t want you going into biker bars?”
“Yes,” she said. “But how can this whole underworld exist without some sort of…? I don’t know. Without anyone knowing?”
Bullet chuckled. “People know. More people than you think. The principal at the high school? He’s family.”
“Mr. Martin? He’s not a Whiskey,” Finlay said.
“Our motorcycle club is family,” Bullet explained.
“That docile man is a member of your motorcycle club?”
Bullet nodded. “The owner of the flower shop, the CFO at Peaceful Harbor Bank, several doctors, the pharmacist at CVS. I could go on and on.”
She lowered herself onto a stool. “Wow. I had no idea.” Her brow furrowed. “So, I could go check out other club bars, right? I’m not a member of your club, and clubs aren’t like gangs, so that would work for research.”
Dixie smiled.
“No wonder you hired her,” Bullet said to Dixie. “She’s as determined as you, only sweeter.”
“I’m sweet.” Dixie smirked. “I just hide it well.”
“I think you’re very sweet,” Finlay said. “Tough, too, but sweet and nice and funny.”
“Thanks.” Dixie made a dramatic show of fluttering her lashes at Bullet.
“Christ. If you’re dead set on going to a biker bar, I’ll take you to the Snake Pit,” Bullet relented. “It’s at the other end of town and owned by two members of the Dark Knights. It’s classier than our joint, but it’ll have to do.”
“Thank you. I think that’ll help.”
Dixie pushed to her feet. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back, and then we can go over your other ideas. We kind of got sidetracked.”
After Dixie was out of earshot, Bullet pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and tried his best not to sound like an arrogant ass. “I didn’t mean to put you down, and I won’t make that mistake again. You have my word, lollipop. I’m a hard-ass, but I’m not intentionally a dick.”
She lowered her gaze, her face a mask of contemplation.
He bent so his face was lower than hers and looked up at her, earning a sweet smile, which soothed the ache in his heart from accidentally hurting her. “Let me rephrase that to something more lollipop appropriate.”
She smiled again, and this time it was warm and genuine and gave him hope that she’d forgive his comment.
“I’m tough and crass. Some might say I’m not easy to like,” he said apologetically. “We’re from totally different worlds, and I’ll never be a collared-shirt yuppie, but I’d never in a million years try to hurt you.”
“I believe you,” she said softly.
“Think you can bear with me? Help me learn to keep my fucking mouth shut?”
“Bear with you? Yes. Help you keep your mouth shut?” She shook her head, laughing softly. “What time are you picking me up tonight?”
He leaned forward, his lips grazing hers. She inhaled a ragged breath, and he whispered, “Seven thirty.”
“No motorcycle.”
“No motorcycle,” he agreed.
“No Tinkerbell.”
“No Tink. Yet.” He pressed his lips to hers, vowing to never accidentally hurt her again and hoping he could figure out how to lead with his fucking heart, because he knew better than anyone that being given a second chance was the gift of a lifetime.
Chapter Six
“WHAT DO YOU wear on a d
ate with a Bullet train?” Isabel’s teasing voice rose from Finlay’s laptop, which was sitting on her bed.
Finlay stood at the threshold of her closet Friday evening, hands on hips, trying to figure out just that.
“He needs a target,” Isabel said. “So I’m thinking crotchless panties are a must.”
“Izzy!” Finlay laughed, though she blushed a red streak.
“What? It seems like the right thing for a Bullet train.”
“No, just no. Please be serious. I’m so nervous. Something sexy but not too sexy?” Finlay suggested. “After the kisses we shared, I don’t want him to think I’ll just give it up, you know? But I also don’t want him to think I won’t ever give it up.”
“I’ve got it!” Isabel waved her hands, her hazel eyes wide with amusement. “You need one of those light-up T-shirts that has two big yellow traffic lights, one on each boob. That will give him the message don’t stop, but don’t speed through. Just take it nice and slow.”
Finlay rolled her eyes. “That’s really helpful. Do you know how nervous I am?”
“I think the fact that I had to hear about you changing your lingerie four times gave me a pretty good idea of how nervous you are. I’m glad you went with the white lace, though. That’s totally you, and I think even badass Brutus would wonder what other sexy secrets you were keeping if he found edible underwear on the first date.”
“He’s not going to find white lace, either!”
“Penny’s there,” Isabel said matter-of-factly. She lifted her dark hair into an updo and sucked in her cheeks. “Do you think I should start eating healthier so I can look like those ridiculously skinny models who eat air for dinner?”
“What? No! And what did you say about Penny?”
“She’s there. Three, two, one…”
There was a knock at Finlay’s door. “You did not call her!”
“Okay, let’s go with that. Answer your door, please.”
“I don’t need Penny pressuring me tonight!” She stalked out of the bedroom and answered the door.
“Hey, sis. Nice outfit. Are you going for the June Cleaver look?” Penny walked right past her, carrying an armful of clothes, an enormous bag slung over her shoulder. “Where’s Iz?”
“Bedroom.” Finlay followed her down the hall. “What’s wrong with my bathrobe?”
“Nothing if it’s 1950 or you’re eighty-two years old with a dusty cootie and hangnails.”
“I hate you right now,” Finlay said as she followed Penny into the bedroom. “What are you two, anyway? Plot bunnies, secretly scheming behind my back?”
“Hey, Iz.” Penny blew a kiss toward the laptop and tossed the clothes on the bed. She set her bag on the floor and said, “We are your saviors. Now, take off that boner killer bathrobe and let’s see if we can find an outfit that might incite some boob-touching action.”
“Cock-knockin’ action,” Isabel said with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah, even better. A little hide the handlebar? Smoke the muffler?” Penny dug through the pile and held up a black T-shirt with GOOD GIRLS SIT, BAD BITCHES RIDE emblazoned across the front. “Huh? What do you think? If you go with that, I got you this to give to him.” She picked up an enormous men’s shirt and showed them the back, which had two red and white targets and read, PRESS ’EM HERE ’N’ HANG ON TIGHT.
Isabel fell onto her side laughing.
“What is wrong with you people?” Finlay said as she laughed and yanked the shirt from Penny’s hand. She tossed it on the chair in the corner of the room and said, “No, no, and no. Do you have anything reasonable in here?” She picked up a little black dress that looked like it would fit a seven-year-old. “How can you wear this? You’re five inches taller than me.”
Penny, who looked like Zooey Deschanel with her blue eyes and walnut-brown hair, took after their father. She was tall and lean and about as carefree as a girl could be. She smoothed her hands over her jeans-clad hips and said, “It’s all in the stretch of the material.”
“This thing couldn’t stretch to cover my cooch. How on earth does it cover yours?”
“Try it,” Isabel suggested.
“Yeah, put it on and see.” Penny reached for the tie on Finlay’s robe. “Give me Grandma’s robe. Let’s sex you up.”
As Finlay stripped off her robe, Isabel whistled and cheered and Penny lowered her voice and started singing, “Come on, girl, strip off the robe. That’s it, girl. Show those globes.”
Finlay gave her a deadpan look.
“I liked it,” Isabel said. “It made creative sense.”
“Nice lace, sis.” Penny picked up the black dress and handed it to her. “Now, let’s cover up that innocent lingerie with some sluttiness.”
“Aren’t I supposed to wear the sluttiness underneath the innocence?”
Penny set a hand on her hip and said, “Only if you never want to touch his drive shaft.”
“I feel like a stuffed sausage in this dress.”
“Stuffed sausages are good,” Isabel said. “And you look hot, like take-me-from-behind hot.”
Finlay ripped the dress over her head and tossed it on the bed. “Nope. Not going there.”
“Dark blue shift?” Penny picked up a midnight-blue dress that was almost as small as the black one.
“No.”
“Leather miniskirt?” She plucked it out from beneath the pile. “I’ve got my lace-up fuck-me boots in the car.”
“Leather goes well with a motorcycle,” Isabel said. “And that one is cute!”
“No leather. Why can’t you guys just help me be me, only better?”
Isabel made a kissing noise. “I love you, Finny, and you know I’m only giving you a hard time.”
Penny flopped onto the bed on her side and began picking up each outfit. “It’s our job to try to get you sexed up, no matter how hard you fight it.”
“Why?”
“Because one day you might want to get sexed up and be too embarrassed to ask,” Penny said.
“We know how nervous you are about going out with Bullet,” Isabel added. “We just wanted to lighten the mood.”
“With leather and slut boots?” Finlay flopped onto her back beside Penny. “Why don’t I just wear one of my sundresses?”
Penny’s face appeared over hers. “Because your sister would never leave you hanging, and neither would Izzy. We shopped today and found something we think you’ll love.”
“You shopped?” Finlay turned toward the computer, and Isabel held up her phone.
“FaceTime shopping. We found you the best outfit! Pen took me to Chelsea’s Boutique. Oh my God, Fin, when I move there we are going to spend hours in that shop. Days. We may never leave!”
Finlay’s hopes rose. Isabel and Penny had great taste when they weren’t trying to be too wild. She sat up, and Penny reached into her red bag and withdrew a gift box, complete with a big pink ribbon. Finlay’s throat thickened with emotion. Before their father had died, he’d celebrated each of their milestones with a gift, wrapped up with a big pink bow. The milestones were never things they wanted to celebrate with their father—their first bras, first periods, first kisses—but now they were some of their most cherished moments.
“Penny…”
“Take it.” Penny handed her the box and hugged her. “I wasn’t there when you got all googly-eyed over Aaron, and I’m glad you let me be a part of this first date.”
Tears welled in Finlay’s eyes. She glanced at the laptop, and Isabel blew her a kiss. Her heart was so full, she couldn’t imagine how the night could get any better. “Thank you both so much. I know I’ll love it, as long as it’s not made for a sex romp.”
“No promises there,” Isabel said with a smile.
She untied the ribbon and opened the top, gasping at the pretty rose-beige material. “You guys, this is gorgeous.”
She lifted the dress out of the box and moved across the room to hold it up in front of the mirror, but she couldn’t wait, and turned her back t
o the girls. She removed her bra, then slipped the beautiful dress over her head. Soft cotton dusted the tops of her feet.
“Let me.” Penny gathered Finlay’s hair over one shoulder and tied the halter.
Finlay turned around, overwhelmed by how well they knew her. She stood before the mirror unable to believe how pretty she looked, how perfect the dress fit. The halter-style top was trimmed with lace, and a crocheted pattern covered her midriff. The long skirt had a thick crocheted stripe above her knees, giving it just the right amount of sexiness without looking like she was trying too hard.
“Finny,” Isabel said, “you look gorgeous. Bullet, and every other man out there, is going to fall at your feet.”
Finlay looked at Penny and said, “I thought you were really trying to get me to wear something I never would.”
“Nope. I love my big sister just the way she is. But when you’re ready for Tramp City, we’re your girls.” Penny hugged her. “I’m glad you’re back home again. You look lovely, and very fuckable.”
“Bullet will appreciate both,” Isabel chimed in. “Let’s accessorize!”
For the next twenty minutes, Finlay modeled sandals, earrings, bangles, and necklaces, her nervousness increasing with each rendition. She finally settled on a pair of cute beige sandals, rose-gold dangling earrings, and a simple Alex and Ani red kindred cord heart bracelet. With the outfit accessorized, Penny left to meet friends for dinner and Finlay ended the video call with Isabel and was left alone to pick apart her thoughts. She had gone on a few dates over the past couple of years, but they were typical guys and typical dates. She had been nervous before them, as anyone would be on a first date, but those guys hadn’t picked her up when she’d been drinking and driven her home. They hadn’t seen her uncorked, singing silly songs like a ridiculous teenager and screaming at the sight of a dog. They hadn’t carried her through the very living room in which she now sat, nervously fidgeting with the soft fabric of her dress. She definitely hadn’t wanted to see them naked or touch their bare chests, and not one of them made her knees weak with a single kiss.
Driving Whiskey Wild Page 8