by Debra Kayn
Reaching into his pocket, he removed a ten-dollar bill and held it out. "Take the top off."
Brandi snatched the cash out of his hand, then worked the last two buttons loose without stopping her hips from moving. Once the material was gone, she removed her bra. She shook her shoulders, but her small breasts barely jiggled. That disappointed him.
"Alright, Paco. Spit it out," he said, losing patience.
"I want to be excused from the meeting tomorrow." Paco leaned closer. "It's important."
"Personal?"
Paco stroked his beard. "No."
"Tarkio?"
Paco dipped his chin. "Right now, I'd like to keep this to myself. If I find out the rumor is true, I'll meet with you and Prez straight away. I could be wrong, and I don't want to involve anyone unnecessarily until I do."
His MC brother hadn't missed any meetings. Paco was loyal. He enjoyed himself, but he'd seen how serious he took Tarkio business.
Under his carefree attitude, Paco had a lot of demons. Most of the time, he hid them well under the guise of getting along with everyone and being the life of the party. Only once had Curley seen the real Paco come out, and he'd be the first to admit that there's no way in hell he'd ever want to meet the guy in a dark alley when he lost control.
"I'll excuse you." He turned his attention from Brandi to Paco. "If you need someone to watch your back, let me know. I'll work something out and pull one of the newer members out of the meeting."
"It's not dangerous." Paco lifted his chin. "I'll let you get back to your free entertainment."
"Free?" He scoffed. "Hell, this is costing me ten bucks."
Curley drained the rest of his drink and lit a cigarette. Brandi had lost interest and danced with two of the other girls hanging around the clubhouse.
The girls rubbed their bodies against each other. He stretched his legs out and took a hit off the cigarette. The whiskey he'd consumed put him in a good spot.
Having business done in California for a while and having a full-club meeting tomorrow, things were looking up. All they needed to do was check in with the other motorcycle clubs in the area, keep communication open, and Tarkio might get through the summer months without losing anyone.
He caught Brandi's gaze. Hitching his chin, he motioned her toward Maisy. The women knew what was expected of them. It wasn't the first time they'd been asked to entertain him.
Brandi kissed Maisy. He harrumphed. His interest heightened with the girl on girl action.
The song ended. The two women failed to notice. He finished the rest of the smoke as Bon Jovi's new song Blaze of Glory blared over the speakers set around the room.
Stubbing the cigarette out on the thigh of his jeans, he tossed the extinguished butt on the floor and stood. He cupped the back of Brandi's neck and tore her mouth away from Maisy.
Now, all he needed was a little something to take the stress off.
He pulled her toward the side of the room. She clung to him, her hand wandering below his belt.
To his left, the front door opened. He glanced over and spotted Tracy.
The glare coming from her stopped him from leaving the room. He dropped his arm from Brandi and pushed her behind him.
Tracy's gaze went to Brandi, back to him, and she shook her head, obviously displeased about something. He walked over to her, leaving Brandi behind.
Rick was riding with Priest and probably on his way back by now. The kids weren't with Tracy. That alone was a bad sign since she usually always had them at her side.
He leaned down. "Problem, honey?"
Her glare never left him, and she shook her head. He straightened, at a loss of what to do for her. Before hooking up with Rick, Tracy had no problems relying on him and the other Tarkio members.
"Are you looking for Rick?" he asked.
She leaned and looked behind him, then met his gaze. "Really? You're screwing other women?"
What he did or didn't do was his business. "Why are you asking?"
Her mouth opened and then closed. Then, her lips moved, but he couldn't hear her.
"What?" he said.
"You've got an old lady." Her nose wrinkled. "Some of you guys in Tarkio who screw around on your women are assholes."
"It's not like that with Faye and me," he said.
She walked away from him, having said her peace. He turned and watched her go to Jerry, speak to him for a few minutes, and then walk past him and out the door.
He followed her and caught her before she reached the truck. Glancing at the vehicle, he spotted Aaron standing in the open driver's door. She must've had him watching over the kids while she ran inside.
He let go of her arm. "What was that jab toward me about?"
"I thought you, of all people, wouldn't deliberately hurt someone. I was wrong." She walked backward. "You're just like the others and think with your dick."
She'd spent time with Faye while he'd gone with the club out of state. Obviously, the two women had reconnected, and now Tracy was coming to her friend's defense.
"Faye's not getting hurt," he said.
Getting relief and fucking were too different things. It came with the lifestyle. There was a line he never crossed.
"Think what you want if it makes you sleep better at night." Tracy scoffed. "I need to go. My man is coming home to my bed."
Letting her have the parting shot, he was more interested in why Tracy felt the need to mouth off to him. She'd always gotten along with him.
Hell, she was a kid of Tarkio and had grown up within the club. There were many nights, he'd crashed on her couch because she hated staying at the house alone after her parents were killed.
Until now, she had never even disagreed with him.
Tracy backed the truck out of the lot. No longer in the mood to go inside the clubhouse, Curley strolled over to his Harley and headed home.
His thoughts kept going back to what Faye could've told Tracy about their relationship. He'd claimed her years ago, and they went their separate ways. There was nothing to talk about.
He lived his life, and Faye lived hers. The two of them couldn't last more than two minutes together without arguing.
Tracy had no right to judge what he wanted to do in his free time. For all he cared, Faye could be fucking half the population of Superior.
Except, he knew she wasn't.
Chapter 7
Faye
Jenna lifted her leg and put her high-heeled shoe on the curb in front of Kingston Bar and used the brush out of the clear nail polish to dab the run in her nylons. Stephanie tugged at the front of her halter top, showing more cleavage.
"Check my ass." Angela turned and arched her back. "I don't want the bottom of my cheeks showing when I walk in there."
Faye strolled around her three friends. "You all look great. Remember, it's not an interview. Lance has already hired us, so let's not get nervous—or we'll probably chicken out. We're just going to walk in there, hear the rules, and go home. Let's show him how professional we are and save the sexiness for work."
"I am so out of my element." Angela inhaled deeply. "Serving food and drinks is easy. This is going to be hard."
Faye pressed her hand to her stomach, smoothing her shirt. Dressed more conservatively than her friends, making sure everyone at Kingston Bar understood that they would take the job seriously and once they were off the clock, they were off-limits, she tried to calm the jitters.
Since she was responsible for them being unemployed, it was only fair that she agreed to their idea to try working at the bar. Never in her wildest dreams would she have taken the job by herself. But the higher wages were an incentive she couldn't turn down. She'd expand the nursery sooner than she hoped.
What happened inside during working hours was only a means to an end until she reached her goal. Nobody knew her here. It would only be for a few months. After that, she'd have enough saved, put Grandma June's house up for sale, and be ready to move on to her future.
"Let's go get this done." She walked to the door and waited for them all to fall in line.
As one, they went inside. Faye spotted Lance sitting in a booth at the back wall. She gazed around the open room. The last time she'd come to Kingston Bar, it was after six o'clock, and the place was packed with customers. The rumors she'd heard about the popularity of the bar had proven true.
The rough, tough men were the same as those she'd grown up around. Uncle Walker had appeared scary to others, but to her, he was a teddy bear that was large, fiercely protective, and full of love. She'd pretend they were all like her uncle.
She shivered, not liking that idea.
The decision to accept the job was the right one. Those that liked to party and have a good time were loose with their money.
More customers meant more cash for her and the girls.
She led the others across the room. Coming here and working in Missoula was a new experience for her. She was no longer in her comfort zone. Everything from the owner of the bar down to the men who would visit was new to her.
Her nervousness was shadowed by excitement. She liked taking control of her life and making things happen to further her dreams.
"Faye." Lance scooted out of the booth against the far wall and stood, his gaze going to Jenna, Angela, and Stephanie. "Right on time."
"We're excited." She shook his hand and made introductions.
"This is great." He complimented each one of them.
Stephanie for her red hair. Jenna for her eyes. Angela for her body, which made Lance whistle and flirt. To her relief, each of her girlfriends stood still and took everything with grace.
"Let's get down to business." Lance rubbed his hands together. "What you're wearing is great. Of course, the tops will come off. I don't know if you've worked—"
"We have." She smiled, lying through her teeth. "We're adaptable and used to working together."
While they'd worked together for a few years, their time was spent with their clothes on, wearing skirts that fell to their knees and buttoned shirts.
"We're pretty laidback here. There will be two other girls working with you each evening you're scheduled. You can discuss which tables you want to cover amongst yourselves. As long as the customers are served and happy, I'll stay out of your business."
She glanced at the others. Lance needed to keep his distance, unlike her old boss at the lounge, or Kingston Bar would find themselves with four fewer waitresses.
"The bar will provide you one meal during your shift. You'll get two twenty-minute breaks and a half-hour lunch." Lance looked over the group of women. "Are you ready for tonight?"
The others eagerly nodded. Jenna, out of all of them, loved attention, and was the most enthusiastic about the job. Angela was curious, though she could be shy until she got comfortable—then, watch out. Stephanie, as a single mom, wanted the money that afforded her a house where she could have her mom live with her to help take care of her son.
For her, the money earned would go straight into her savings account, where eventually she would use it to gain the biggest step in her life. With a way to propel her into a life of her own, she could get out from under Curley control and Tarkio Motorcycle Club's thumb.
That independence gave her a sense of security. A sense that she could push back the fear of losing anyone else in her life.
"We'll see you ladies at six o'clock then." Lance stepped back.
"Nine o'clock." She grinned. They'd agreed on a short night to test the waters to see if she and the others could actually do the job.
Lance laughed loudly and pointed his finger at Faye in amusement. "You can't blame me for trying."
" We're quick learners. Trust me, you won't be disappointed." She half-turned, motioning for the others to head toward the door. "And I don't think your customers will be either."
Outside the bar, the girls huddled around her. She laughed at their excitement and indulged them in giving her hugs. Mentally, she was right there with them wanting to shimmy and shout in happiness while wanting to throw up from nerves.
What she planned to do was thrilling and scandalous. How many women went topless in front of a bar full of men?
In the same breath, she hoped once nine o'clock came, she and the others wouldn't chicken out.
"Okay, okay, okay." She laughed, pushing Stephanie an arm's length away from her. "Rest up, and be ready tonight."
The women hurried away in three different directions. She stood in the parking lot and waved to them. Her exhilaration left her at odds. Maybe because she was in Missoula, the urge to call Tracy and share the good news with her was stronger than if she was getting a job in Superior.
But she had to be careful. Being in the same town as Tarkio Motorcycle Club would make it easy to slip back and be closer to the bikers than was smart. She'd only be disappointed when they all supported Curley and not her.
They weren't her family in the real sense. The only person she had that she could claim was Curley, and he'd already made his view of her clear.
Besides, she needed to keep her new job a secret from him. She wasn't going to give him the chance to ruin her plans for her future.
She strolled to her car, unable to wipe the smile off her face. The hours until work tonight would go painfully slow. She was ready to get her first night over with now.
No one had ever seen her topless. Not in high school when she'd use a towel to cover the front of her on the way to the showers after PE. Not even make-out sessions with teenage boys. Any fooling around happened with hands slipped under her shirt or down her jeans.
The only man who'd ever seen her completely nude was Curley. Thank goodness, Kingston Bar was only a topless business and not a stripper joint.
"Hey," shouted a male voice.
At her vehicle door, she turned and shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun. Recognizing Paco walking toward her, she waved and stayed to see what he was doing.
Paco would never know she still had the Lisa Frank Notebook and pens he'd bought her for her thirteenth birthday. He was younger than the bikers Uncle Walker used to hang around with, and that year he'd given her something prevalent with the girls at school and made her the most popular girl during the hour she got to hang out with friends before Grandma June wanted her help in the greenhouse.
She wasn't sure of Paco's age, but he couldn't be more than ten years older than her. Maybe thirty-four years old at the most—now that she was an adult that made him someone from her age group. Pretty much.
Paco stopped in front of her. Sensing something wrong, she studied him.
His long hair was tangled and swept back off his forehead. She gazed at his chest. He wore club leather. He'd been riding.
"It's early for a Tarkio member to be out and about." She raised her gaze. "Everything okay?"
She hadn't seen him since she'd stopped in at the clubhouse. Because Curley had upset her, she'd ignored everyone else.
"I could be better." He frowned. "What are you doing here?"
Her skin prickled. He hadn't randomly run into her. Curley had sent him.
She'd had Tarkio members approach her over the years, every time they wanted to know what was going on with her because Curley was too chicken shit to come and find out himself.
That knowledge upset her.
"I'm going home." She pointed at the car, not giving him any more information.
Curley or Tarkio wouldn't disrupt her first night on a new job and ruin her successes.
"You went into Kingston Bar." Paco's frown deepened. "That's probably not a good idea. Missoula is bigger than Superior. This isn't some small-town bar. There are some places in town that a lady shouldn't go inside without a man."
She cocked her eyebrow. They both knew her man wasn't going to walk inside an establishment with her, and she had no choice but to go alone. Curley wanted nothing to do with her.
Paco shook his head, his gaze softening. "Faye..."
She opened the car door and sl
id into the seat. "Take care of yourself, Paco."
She started the engine before she worked up the nerve to tell him exactly what she thought of his opinion and backed out of the parking spot. She drove across the asphalt, and only while she was looking left and right for oncoming traffic had she dared look at Paco.
He was no longer standing in front of the building, he headed inside.
She drove away. Time was her friend.
By tonight, Paco would forget about running into her, and she could work without worry that he'd return tonight and catch her with her top off.
Chapter 8
Curley
Frank pulled a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and held it up in front of Curley. "This is it, brother."
Taking a look at the black and white Harley Davidson picture ripped out of the newspaper, he whistled softly. "Sweet. How many owners?"
"Only one. It's been garaged for ten years, and the widow mentioned she was ready to sell her dead husband's ride. I'm going over and taking a look at it. If the bike turns out like I expect it will, I'll take her the money in the morning and be riding that baby home." Frank slipped the paper back into his pocket. "Want to tag along?"
"Yeah." He caught sight of Paco waving him over. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be ready to roll."
He walked over to Paco and followed him out the door. "What's up?"
Paco widened his stance and crossed his arm. "That job I needed to do this morning?"
"Yeah."
"It had to do with Faye," said Paco.
His body hardened, and the noise from the bikers behind him revving their motorcycles faded away. "What the hell do you mean?"
Paco's gaze flinched. "The other day I was at Kingston Bar. I overheard one of the bartenders talking about how Lance had hired a group of gals to start working—new blood, you know, to liven the place up."
"What's that have to do with Faye?" He grabbed a cigarette, needing something to do with his hands before he punched someone.
"It caught my attention, man. I knew about Faye trying to work at Riverside Bar, and I rode with Prez when he talked to the manager there about not hiring her." Paco paused. "So, when another bar in town mentions a group of girls, I had to find out if it was Faye and her friends."