Honey Whiskey (Bastards MC #2)

by Carina Adams

  I finished off the whiskey before I turned and leaned back against the bar. Taylor was lost in conversation with a group of clerks from work, not even noticing that I wasn’t where she’d left me earlier. I watched her laugh with my friends, waiting for her to realize I was staring, hoping she could feel my eyes on her. She never gave me as much as a glance.

  Jo was wrong. Taylor wasn’t my future. I had to be honest with myself, as much as I fucking hated the idea. There was only one woman that I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. And she was taken by a dickwad that thought he was too good for her. If she were mine, I’d do anything to keep a smile on her face, make her happy, and keep her safe.

  I glowered at that thought, knowing I’d never have the chance. The ball busting truth was that Billy wasn’t the only one bad for her—the skeletons in my closet terrified even me and were hidden away for a damned good reason. If Joes knew a quarter of my shit, the secrets I kept, she’d run away screaming. I’d never be able to let her in because, once I did, she’d leave and never look back. That was not a chance I was willing to take.

  No, Jo would never be mine.

  That cold hard fact pissed me off more than everything else that had happened this week. Fuck my life. I turned back to the bar and ordered another round.

  Chapter 1

  Jo

  I tried to be a good, attentive friend and listen while Teagan talked about her day. However, I couldn’t keep my eyes from drifting to the phone next to me and only heard a few words as I let my mind wander. I bit my bottom lip, determined not to turn my cell over and look to see if anyone had called. What was the point of silencing the ringer if I was just going to drive myself nuts checking it every five minutes? Keeping my resolve intact, I leaned back against her headboard, making myself concentrate on her voice.

  “… just so grown up, ya know? It blew me away. He isn’t even close to being the same kid he was five years ago. I really think that this placement will decide to adopt. As long as he can keep himself out of trouble.” She laughed. “I had to lay down the law again, gave him the old ‘I love you but if you are a brat and screw this up, I will kick your butt!’ speech. You know which one I mean?” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. Teagan seemed to have the worst behaving teenagers on her caseload. Thank God she had the patience of a saint and loved them all.

  She pulled out another armful of purses and balled up clothes, shoving them into the already giant pile, and pushed her mahogany hair out of her face. “It’s in here, I swear! I just never wear them, but they will be so cute with that top you bought!” She’d been in her closet for almost half an hour, searching for a shoe that she insisted I had to wear out tonight, while I sat cross-legged on her bed, drowning in misery.

  I couldn’t care less about the shoes. There was only one thing weighing on my mind and it didn’t have a thing to do with what I was going to wear out later. Hell, I didn’t even want to go out anymore. If I hadn’t promised half my coworkers that I’d meet them, I’d stay in my pajamas all night and sulk in my room. I wondered, once again, if Matty was going to make an appearance. I gave in, picking up my iPhone, and groaned when I saw I didn’t have one single missed call or unread text. Sighing, I tossed the phone angrily back down on Teagan’s bed. I didn’t know what annoyed me more—the fact that he hadn’t called or that I was upset about it.

  Teagan leaned back on her haunches, concern etched on her beautiful face. “You sure you don’t want me to cancel? I will if you want me to come out with you all.”

  I smiled at my dearest friend, trying to offer reassurance. I could honestly say I don’t know where I’d be without T. She’d not only offered me a constant shoulder over the last few months, she’d taken me in and given me a place to stay. “Don’t you dare!” Her boyfriend, Tom, was finally coming home after three weeks away for work. Both her daughters were gone for the night, and with me going out, that meant they had the apartment alone for the first time ever. “You and I can go out drinking any time. You need to enjoy Tom while he’s here.” She frowned at me skeptically, but turned back to the closet.

  A few minutes later she yelled, “Aha!” and picked up a sexy, red, spike heeled stiletto that looked way too dangerous for me to wear. “Found it!” She turned, beaming. Her face fell when her eyes met mine. Pushing her giant frame off the floor, she joined me on the bed and leaned her head back next to mine. The bed tipped slightly under her weight, and I adjusted so I didn’t roll in to her. I wasn’t a tiny woman, but Tegan dwarfed me by a good ten inches and roughly sixty pounds. “Oh, honey! He’s probably got a million and ten things going on right now. It was a crazy week! He’ll call.”

  I didn’t argue. Teagan had always adored her ‘biker boy,’ and told me once that if she’d been a little younger, he wouldn’t know what had hit him. She loved us both, but she’d never thought we were a good match. Even though she didn’t like us as a couple, she’d been extremely supportive. She hugged me when I was angry with him and got giddy and girly with me when things were good. I knew she must be tired of me moping, especially after the last few days. Instead of snapping at me or telling me that she knew this would happen, she only smiled and told me we’d get through it. I couldn’t bear the thought of telling her how badly I’d screwed things up this time.

  I hadn’t spoken to Matty since Tuesday and that conversation hadn’t gone as planned. There was so much I needed to say to him, so many things I wanted to tell him, but instead, we’d argued. Feeling bad because I had been such a bitch during the call, I’d sent him a text apologizing and told him where I was going tonight, asking if he wanted to meet me. He hadn’t even written back to say no. I sighed again, closing my eyes.

  After what felt like years of radio silence, the two of us had reconnected two months ago. Well, if you could call Matty picking me up, carrying me to his car, and demanding I talk to him, connecting. We’d talked hundreds of times since then, and exchanged a few thousand text messages. However, every time we’d made plans to get together, life always got in the way and one of us had to cancel. I was desperate to see him. I needed my boyfriend to be more than a voice on the other end of the phone.

  That’s if he was my boyfriend. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what we were anymore. Matty had said I was his forever, but that we just didn’t work right now. When I asked if he thought we could fix us, he said we could, but that it wouldn’t be easy. He was worth the effort, and I was willing to do almost anything to get us back to where we were last summer. I believed that our declarations of love after Todd’s adoption party was the closure each of us needed in order to put the past few months of hell behind us, moving forward to work on mending whatever was broken so we could be together.

  The funny thing about closure is that once you feel like you have it, once you are finally healing, the last thing you want to do is rip the scab off the wound. That’s what it felt like we were doing. Our problems didn’t go away just because we wanted them to, and underneath it all, we were the same people we’d been just a few months ago. He was determined to keep secrets from me, to shut me out of God knows what, and that was something I wouldn’t tolerate if we had any hope of a future.

  And, as much as I tried not to be, I was bitter. I was still pissed that without any explanation he was ready to let me go and expected me to run back to the man who had hurt me, the very man Matty had sworn he’d kill if said man ever touched me again. Every time we tried to talk about that day, we picked at the scab a little more. It was painful and would only leave us scarred if we couldn’t figure it out.

  I knew that Matty didn’t really want me with Will, and that neither of us meant a quarter of what we’d said that day. But, he refused to talk about it, changing the subject whenever I brought it up. I didn’t understand how he could be amazing and possessive one day and then weak and pathetic the next. I was positive there was some underlying reason.

  No matter what I said, he refused to let me in. Without realizing it, I’d fallen back in
to my nasty passive aggressive pattern. I knew I needed to break the mold and just tell him how I felt, but instead, I found myself getting angry for no real reason, and feeling annoyed with him for little things that normally wouldn’t bother me.

  Now it was excruciatingly clear we weren’t sure how to move on. When we talked, we avoided any serious topics. It was like we’d come to an unspoken mutual understanding that we didn’t get much time and we’d be damned if it was going to be ruined by an argument. Leaving things unsaid, though, seemed to breed mistrust. He’d been distant, almost cold, the past week, and it hurt me that he wouldn’t tell me why. Plus, I’d worked myself into a tizzy trying to figure out how to tell him about everything that was going on in my life and was overly snappy.

  The last time we’d talked, really talked, I took offense to his cold shoulder routine and suggested that we should quit while we were ahead. I told him I thought we would always work better as just friends and that the friendship was what we both missed the most after all. He’d argued, telling me that I was worth the struggle, that we’d get to the point where we could forgive each other and eventually everything would fall into place. I yelled back, telling him I hadn’t done anything wrong and didn’t need his forgiveness. I couldn’t remember much more of what was said, but I knew it had gone south quickly. I would probably never forget the relief in his voice when I told him we were done and he’d agreed.

  “Maybe this time it really is over.”

  “Jesus, you two are way more dramatic than any teenager I know—and believe me, that’s saying something!” I opened my eyes to find her glaring at me. “Maybe you are. I seriously doubt it, but maybe you are. You have some major crap to work through, but so does every other couple I know. Divorced people come with crazy amounts of baggage.” She twirled her hand over her head.

  “Most men can’t handle all this, let alone the two monsters that come with me. But, I’d go through all the crazy drama all over again just to find Tom.” She smiled. “If you’re over, you are. Stressing over it and getting depressed won’t make him come back. It will only make you feel like shit. So, you’re gonna get up, get dressed, put on my stripper shoes, and go dance your ass off.” I laughed as she shoved me off the bed. “Tomorrow’s a big day!”

  Teagan was right. I’d done everything I could do and now the ball was in Matty’s court. I needed to let it go, at least for tonight, and have a great night with my friends.

  Chapter 2

  Rocker

  The bar was full, the music loud, and the dance floor crammed with people grinding and laughing, drunk off their asses. Thankfully, we were the only ones filling the stools at the bar. I sat, listening to Hawk and Fred shoot the shit, grumbling responses when they were required. The two of them kept trying to drag me into the conversation, but all I cared about was finishing the beer in front of me and downing the next. It had been a long ass day, full of nothing but shit I didn’t want to deal with. If I hadn’t promised the guys we’d stop at Hooligan’s to see Fred, we’d be halfway back to Boston by now.

  Thinking of my buddies, I scanned the room for Dean. He'd taken off with a tasty little piece a while ago, and I hadn't seen him since. A loud group came up to the other end of the bar, and I turned to them out of boredom. One of them, a tall blonde in a barely-there outfit and a ‘come fuck me’ mouth, offered me a knowing smile. I ignored her, not even close to being interested, and moved my eyes over the rest of her group, settling on the short one that had her back to me. There was something familiar about her, and I searched my mind, struggling to place her.

  She wasn't my type, so there was no reason I should stare, but an uneasy feeling settled in my gut and I couldn't pull my eyes away. Her hair was short, barely touching her shoulders, and I knew I’d remember the color. It was all three—brown, red and yellow—in alternating chunks—and, unless it was the lights from the strobes—there were also streaks of blue and purple. She was dancing in place, shaking her ass to the beat. Her tight shirt and jeans left very little to my imagination and showed the world just how curvy she was.

  Nothing about her interested me, except that fucking nagging feeling that I knew her. A couple of guys joined her group, one draping his arm around her shoulders in a gesture that showed everyone he was staking his claim. I lifted my bottle, turning back to Fred, when I heard the laugh. I froze, hand in the air, bottle almost at my lips, staring. The douche with her had leaned in, but she’d stepped away from him, tipping her head back and giggling.

  No fucking way in hell. I felt my whole body tense and took a swig, squinting to see if it could really be her. This chick was similar in height, but that was about it. She was different—from the way she dressed, to the undeniable curves, to the crazy hair. But, no one else in the world had that laugh. I’d know it anywhere.

  My fist squeezed the bottle as the douche ignored her signal and slid his hand down the middle of her back, grabbing her ass. She was free now. The divorce was final. He’d screwed up and let her walk away, but that didn't mean she should be here, letting some pansy ass wimp fondle her. She didn’t move into the ass wipe, which was his intention, but instead stepped forward, moving her arms wildly and forcing him to remove his hand as she talked. The entire group started laughing, finding whatever she said to be hilarious.

  And I knew. It was her. I started to stand, but Fred’s voice kept me back.

  “Leave her be, Brothah.” It was a low, threatening tone.

  I turned to him, jaw clenched, eyebrows raised, trying to determine if he knew how he sounded. He stood directly across from me, on the other side of the bar, towel slung over his shoulder, thick arms folded over an equally thick chest, watching her. I lifted my chin in her direction. “She come here often?” I saw the jackoff raise his hand in the air, trying to get the attention of one of the bar keeper's. Fred shook his head and snorted, as if my question was absurd, and walked to them before one of his employees could.

  Seconds later, all my doubts were gone when I heard Jo screech Fred’s name and practically jump over the counter to give him a hug. He laughed, wrapping himself around her, and I felt the instant pang of annoyance. Obviously, the two of them had gotten close.

  I didn’t jump as the familiar hand smoothed my back in comfort and the soft warm body curled against mine. “You promised, no trouble,” Darcey purred in my ear.

  I looked down, smiling. “Me?” I shrugged. “Hawk’s the one you gotta watch.” Darcey just laughed, giving me a hug. Fred’s wife wore a tight tee shirt, the word ‘Hooligan’s’ spread across her perfect tits, and an apron around her tiny waist. Setting the empty tray she carried on top of the bar, she turned to me, giving me a pointed look. I shifted, uncomfortable under the gaze. “What?” I snapped.

  One eyebrow arched at my tone, but she shook her head, looking down the bar towards Joey. “She’s a regular now.” She sighed, turning back to me. “In here whenever she doesn’t have her kids. She trusts him.” Watching Fred joke with her, I knew Darcey meant her husband, not the prick that was still trying to touch Jo. “She’s been through hell and just starting to come out. She doesn't need more.”

  My jaw clenched at the assumption that I'd cause trouble. I didn't want to cause Joey any more problems. I knew she'd been through the fucking ringer. Cris told me she’d been worried, that I should check in, let Jo know I was there if she needed me. I hadn't seen the point. She had friends and I wasn't one of them. She wasn’t the only one that had been left a fucking mess.

  I’d had my hands pretty fucking full trying to deal with the fallout she’d left behind. Now, I was sitting here with Hawk on a Friday night, staring at the back of the woman I hadn’t stopped hearing about. Fucking perfect.

  As Joey and her entire group headed out to the dance floor, I realized that I needed to leave, to get out of here before she saw me. I turned back to the bar, ready to tell Hawk we had to go. Instead, he handed me a shot of whiskey. Sliding another over as soon as the first was gone.

  “D
on’t you evah get sicka cleanin’ up his messes?” I shook my head at my friend’s question. This wasn’t the place or the time.

  I stood, knowing I had to go, but out of the corner of my eye I saw her dancing. I turned out of habit, and the image of her, obviously pretty tipsy and surrounded by sleaze balls, made me freeze. Fuck! I couldn’t leave without saying something.

  Darcey stepped in my way, giving me that mom look she enjoyed pulling on me, but I moved around her, ignoring the warning Fred hollered at my back. Nothing he could say would stop me from yanking her ass off that dance floor and shaking some sense into that pretty little head of hers. I was the last person he should be protecting her from.

  I could feel rage roll off me, and most people, sensing danger, moved out of my way, parting like the red sea. I was behind her in just a few steps. The pussy that had started to move towards her slid away fast when I narrowed my eyes at him. She still hadn’t seen me, but the tall blonde stopped the hideous jerking she considered dancing, mouth falling open at my presence. The target of my annoyance, though, was oblivious, moving to the beat.

  I didn’t think. My hands reached out, flat against her soft stomach as they circled around her, pulling her back into me. I could feel the change immediately. She tensed, looking up at her friend. The blonde nodded, as if because she approved of my face, I was worthy to dance with her friend. Jo relaxed a little, her body moving backwards into mine. The action infuriated me to the core. I could be anyone, any sick bastard, but because her friend thought I was hot, she was gonna grind with me? Fuck, no.

  I’d forgotten how short she was. The top of her head barely reached my chest. She’d gained weight in the few months since I’d seen her, giving her body a softness I hadn’t realized had been missing. I leaned over to put my head on her shoulder and the scent of vanilla hit me. I tipped my head toward her ear and felt her stiffen as if she sensed I was after more than a quick dance. She attempted to pull away, but my hands held her close.