Jace lowered his big body into a seat at a table, and Tracey went to take his order. He nodded in Dixie’s direction. Tracey headed her way with a perplexed expression. Dixie put a hand on her hip as she approached.
“What’s up with Jace tonight?” Tracey asked. “He says he wants you to wait on him.”
“Nothing. I’ll take care of it.” She stalked over to Jace’s table and said, “What are you doing?”
“Ordering a beer. I’d like a Sam Adams, please.” He stood up, so close she felt the heat of his body burning through her clothing. “Maybe I didn’t explain how important this calendar is and what it means to me.”
“No,” she said adamantly. “I’ll get you a beer, but if you’re staying just to talk me into doing it, you’re wasting your time.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have nothing but time on my hands until you say yes.” He sat down, clasped his hands behind his head, and crossed his ankle over his knee.
Why did he have to look so annoyingly delicious?
She stalked up to the bar and joined Tracey and Izzy, who were deep in conversation.
“What was that all about?” Izzy asked.
Dixie motioned for them to huddle closer and said, “Jace wants me to model for a Silver-Stone calendar to launch his new motorcycle and clothing lines. What the hell, right? Like I’m some ditzy bimbo?”
Tracey and Izzy exchanged a wide-eyed glance.
“More like you’re freaking hot and he knows it,” Izzy said. “I wish he’d ask me. That would be so much fun.”
“I could never do something like that.” Tracey’s shoulders rounded forward and she said, “But if I looked like either of you two and had your confidence, I might consider it.”
“Have you two lost your minds?” Dixie pointed to a calendar on the wall. “That would be me. No way. And he called me kitten. What the fuck?”
Izzy burst into hysterics.
“He’s got big ones to call you kitten,” Tracey said.
“Oh, she knows just how big they are,” Izzy said. “She’s been dreaming about them for years.”
“Do you mind, Iz?” Dixie snapped. “He wants a Sam Adams, too. I might dump it on him.”
Izzy filled his order and an order for Tracey and set the glasses on the bar. “In all seriousness, you should do it. You’re always in the background. Maybe this is your time to shine.”
“First of all, I’d have to go to New York City—”
Tracey gasped. “I’ve never been there. That might be worth doing just for the trip!”
“I’m in,” Izzy said. “Seriously. I’ll go. Tell him I’ll do it. I love New York.”
Dixie rolled her eyes and picked up the beer. “I’ll offer you up.” She’d driven through New York on road trips, but she’d never spent any time there. But no matter how fun that part sounded, she wasn’t going to flaunt her body in a calendar.
“Thanks, Izzy.” Tracey picked up her order and walked away.
Dixie stood by the bar looking at Jace, who was watching her like a hawk, and her stomach knotted up. Even though she knew he’d been goading her by calling her kitten, the way his expression had changed from pleading to predatory had gotten under her skin. That was the first time he’d ever looked at her like she was an attractive, single woman, and not a friend or Bear’s sister. Was it a momentary slip, or was it all part of his game to get her to agree to do the calendar shoot?
Izzy leaned across the bar and said, “I don’t know how you can look at that man and say no to anything.”
“It wasn’t that hard.” She’d been harboring hope for something more with Jace since she was eighteen. She knew it was silly, given how much time had passed, but still, she’d wished for more. If it was possible years later to break the heart of the person she’d been at eighteen, he’d managed to do it. She brought Jace his beer, and as she set it on the table, she said, “Izzy will model for you.”
His brows slanted, giving him an even edgier look. “I want an authentic biker, Dixie. If I’d known you modeled, you would have been my first choice.”
“I don’t know where you got the crazy idea that I model.”
He pulled a picture from his shirt pocket and held it up. It was from the fashion show she’d done for her friend Jillian. She reached for it, and he pulled his hand back, slipping the picture into his shirt pocket.
“I want you, Dixie, not Izzy or anyone else.”
Her heart skipped, because it was that easy to disregard the idea of a calendar shoot and pretend he truly wanted her for himself.
“You’re classy and unique,” he said, adding fuel to her simmering fantasy. “Just like my bikes.”
Nothing like a dose of frosty reality to douse the flames.
She rolled her eyes and said, “Just what every woman wants, to be compared to a bike. Just drink your beer and be on your way.”
“I’ll pay you three times what you earn here.”
“No.”
His lips curved up and he said, “Five times.”
“Not a chance. I told you, Whiskeys don’t play second fiddle. You can pay at the bar.”
He drained his glass and set it on the table. “I’d like another. As I said, I’ve got all night.”
He wasn’t kidding. Hours later, he was still seated at one of her tables, trying to convince her to take the job. He was determined, and she had to admit, he was ridiculously charming, vacillating between demanding, suggesting, flirting, and just being Jace. That was the most potent and charming of all, and it was what had sent her into her office to escape her attraction to him.
She’d spent the last half hour or more trying to focus on the schedules for the bar, and when that didn’t work, she turned to the brochures she’d had printed for the auction. But her mind kept traveling back to Jace. It was like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her, offering up a trip to New York City with the man of her dreams and then turning him into every other man, wanting something she wasn’t willing to give.
Of course, what he wanted was nothing like what most men wanted.
And that was the shame of it.
Izzy poked her head into the office. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, just going over things for the auction.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Izzy sat on the edge of the desk in her red minidress, crossed her legs, and leaned back on one hand. She could be a model with her sleek black hair and hourglass figure. Jace should really take her up on the offer. “A much better idea than sitting in here mooning over the man who refused to leave.”
“Is he gone?” She glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realized it was so late. The bar closed ten minutes ago.
“Yes, although Diesel practically had to throw him out when we closed. He said to give you this.” She reached into the cleavage of her dress and whipped out a receipt, handing it to Dixie.
On the back of the receipt, Jace had written, I’d never have chosen a second fiddle in the first place if I had known #1 was available. One way or another, I’ll prove that to you. JS
Chapter Two
THEY CLOSED THE bar Friday to prepare for the bachelor auction, and with the exception of Dixie’s parents, the entire Whiskey clan and most of their closest friends had shown up to help transform the understated biker bar into a festive fundraiser. Her parents were driving around town putting up signs for the event.
“I’m just saying, it’s about time you make things official,” Bullet said to Bones. He’d been bugging Bones about setting a wedding date ever since Sarah had given birth to their new baby, Maggie Rose, three months ago. Bullet was the most intimidating of Dixie’s brothers, with a thick, unkempt beard and tattoos covering nearly every inch of his body. “Just go to the courthouse already.”
“I am not marrying Sarah in a courthouse,” Bones said evenly. He was an oncologist, the most clean-cut and even keeled of them all. But they knew what he was capable of. He was a quiet storm, and if unleashed, he would take down everything within hi
s path. “She deserves the best of everything, and that includes a beautiful white wedding where she’s the spotlight of everyone’s attention.”
Bones and Bullet were hanging strings of lights vertically in front of the black and white drapes they’d hung along the wall behind the stage. In between Bullet harassing Bones, they joked around with Jed and Truman, who were rearranging tables and setting up extra chairs. Both Jed and Truman worked at Whiskey Automotive. Truman and his younger brother Quincy had been honorary members of the Whiskey family since Bear befriended them when Truman was a teenager. Although Quincy couldn’t get off work to help this afternoon, he’d signed up to be one of the bachelors auctioned off tonight.
“Move your skinny ass, Dix, or we’ll run it over,” Bear said, and then he bumped into her back. “We don’t have all day.”
She spun around, and he grinned. He was holding one end of a wooden table. Diesel held the other, stone-faced, as usual. They were setting up tables along the back wall for the buffet the girls were preparing in the kitchen. Their staff was too small to handle food orders for a crowd the size they anticipated, so they had decided to set up buffets of appetizer and finger foods and put donation jars on the tables.
“Really, Bear?” She stood beside a ladder she was using to hang glittery hearts the children were making from the rafters, but the area to her other side was open, and Bear could have easily gone around her. Between picking up decorations, flyers, and coordinating the efforts of the Dark Knights’ wives who were going to help out at the auction, she’d been running from one thing to the next all day, and she wasn’t in the mood for Bear’s jokes.
Bear chuckled. “If I don’t give you a hard time, who will?”
Of all her siblings, Bear was the one she’d always been closest to. He was the most playful of her brothers, although he also had a serious side. Their father had suffered a stroke when Dixie was fifteen and Bear had just graduated high school. Bullet had been overseas with the military, and Bones was studying to become a physician. Bear had stepped in, taking over for their father at the bar, and a few years later, when they lost their uncle, Bear took over managing the auto shop as well. He’d put his hopes and dreams—his life—on hold, giving years to their family businesses without complaint. Dixie had been thrilled when he’d taken a step back, working fewer hours at the auto shop, so he could follow his passion with Silver-Stone Cycles. She wondered if he knew about Jace’s offer, but she assumed he didn’t, and she wasn’t about to ask and rock a boat in which she had no interest in sailing.
“Uncle Beah! Look!” Kennedy, Truman and Gemma’s four-year-old daughter, thrust a red paper heart up at Bear. In the middle of the heart it read BEAR LOVES CRYSTAL in thick, uneven black crayon.
“That’s the best heart I’ve ever seen in my entire life! I do love my wife, just like I love you, munchkin.” Bear set the table down and lifted Kennedy above his head.
Kennedy giggled and kicked her feet, squealing, “Uncle Beah!” She looked adorable in a purple dress with her long dark hair pulled back in two pigtails secured with white bows. As Bear set her down, she said, “I made it with Auntie Cwystal, and look!”
She turned the heart around, showing him the other side, which read BEAR + CRYSTAL LOVE CUBBIE in bright blue letters. Bear looked lovingly at his wife, who was sitting with Sarah and the children while the kids played and made decorations. Crystal rubbed her baby bump and blew him a kiss. Crystal was due in less than two months, and since they didn’t want to know the sex of the baby before it was born, everyone had begun referring to it as “the cub” or “Cubbie.”
Kennedy blinked big brown eyes up at Bear and said, “Can you walk around Auntie Dixie so she can hang the heart up there?” She pointed to a rafter. “Please?”
Kennedy had had all of them wrapped around her little finger ever since Truman found her and their baby brother, Lincoln, who was now two, in a crack house with Truman’s mother, who had overdosed, and his brother, Quincy, who had been strung out. Although Kennedy and Lincoln were Truman’s siblings, Truman and his wife, Gemma, were raising them as their own children to give them as normal a childhood as possible. Kennedy had gone from a terrified toddler to an outgoing, loving little lady with as much sass as she had empathy for others. Lincoln had come into his own as a sweet-natured, curious little boy, and Quincy had gone through rehab and was now working at a bookstore and running Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Dixie could hardly believe how much they’d all changed in the past year and a half.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Bear said.
“Thank you!” Kennedy thrust the heart into Dixie’s hands and ran to Diesel, hugging his legs. “I’m gonna make you a heart, too, Uncle Diesel!”
Though she wasn’t blood related, Kennedy was a true Whiskey. Dixie’s family extended well beyond bloodlines to the families of the Dark Knights, like Diesel, and special friends, like Tracey, Jed, Josie, and others.
Diesel looked down at Kennedy, treating them all to a rare and heartwarming smile. “I’d sure like that, darlin’.”
Kennedy darted toward Gemma, who was coming out of the ladies’ room, and said, “Mama! Can you write Diesel loves Kennedy on a heart for me?”
Gemma’s eyes shot to Diesel, who barked out a laugh, which was such a foreign sound, they all started laughing.
“Hey, Dix,” Bear said as he lifted the table, “make sure that heart gets special attention.” He winked and walked around her.
“You’re a pest,” Dixie said as she climbed the ladder.
As Diesel carried the table past Dixie, he said, “I’d have used a stronger word.”
Dixie hung up the hearts, and then she went to check on the food preparation. She pushed through the kitchen doors, greeted by the sounds of laughter and “Treat Myself” by Meghan Trainor. The savory scents of spiced meats, gingerbread, cupcakes, and other delicious foods tempted her. The counters were covered with platters of foods and treats in various stages of completion. Finlay and Izzy were shaking their booties to the beat of the music by the ovens, while Josie and Tracey shimmied as they frosted gingerbread cookies in the shapes of muscular men posing in various athletic positions. They were using colored frosting to create black bow ties, open dress shirts, and jeans. They’d even added six-pack abs with flesh-colored frosting.
Bullet’s wife, Finlay, waved Dixie over, her blond hair whipping around her face as she danced. “Dance with us!”
Dixie twirled across the room in her sky-high leather boots and miniskirt. “You guys listen to the weirdest music!” She was a lover of country and rock, though she’d dance to anything.
“Oh, shush up and dance!” Finlay said, swiveling her hips seductively in her cute pink apron. She owned a catering company and worked part-time cooking for Whiskey Bro’s. She was petite and feminine, and she truly adored Bullet and all his gruffness. She’d loved him through his PTSD and brought out a tender side of him that no one had ever seen before they met.
“Penny texted a few minutes ago,” Josie said as she wiggled to the music. Penny was Finlay’s younger sister. She owned Luscious Licks, the ice cream shop where Josie worked part-time. “She’s so excited about the auction. She’s trying to earn extra tips so she has lots of cash for tonight!”
“I bet you a hundred dollars she bids on Quincy,” Tracey chimed in.
Quincy and Penny had been skirting around the chemistry between them for so long, Dixie wished they would get their shit together and either take their friendship to the next level or move on so they could both find someone else who would give them all the love they deserved.
“With all the hotties I have lined up for tonight, she might have a hard time choosing,” Dixie said.
“I’m bidding on Jared, that’s all I know. So bitches better back off,” Izzy said with a whip of her hips.
Dixie laughed. “Prepare yourself for lots of competition, Iz.” Jace’s younger brother was fun loving, like Bear, and a dead ringer for Adam Levine.
When the song
ended and another began, Josie said, “Dixie, I made you special cookies, but you’d better eat them before one of the guys see them.” She hurried over to a cabinet and took out a plate covered with a napkin, grinning up at Dixie. She was beautiful, with honey- and strawberry-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and a sprinkle of elfin magic in her slightly upturned nose and high cheekbones. “I hope you like them.”
Josie and Jed had recently bought Dixie’s late uncle Axel’s house and transformed the garage into a specialty gingerbread shop. The house had been empty for years, and Dixie was glad to see it being used again. The grand opening of Josie’s shop, Ginger All the Days, was taking place the week after next, and they were all excited. Josie was Sarah’s younger sister. Sarah, Josie, and their older brother, Scott, had each separately escaped their abusive parents years ago and had lost touch. Until recently, they hadn’t known if the others were living or dead. Thanks to a serendipitous and emotional reunion, they’d become a family again. Scott would have been there today to help, but he had to work at the marina. They would see him tonight, though, as he was being auctioned off as one of Peaceful Harbor’s most eligible bachelors.
Dixie lifted the napkin and exclaimed, “Oh my gosh! Josie! These are too cute to eat!” The gingerbread cookies were shaped like curvaceous women. White frosting outlined bodacious breasts, and black frosting formed miniskirts and half shirts. Josie had even given them green eyes, pink smirking lips, and long red, ropy hair.
“You have to eat them,” Josie said. “That’s what they’re for!”
“We made two trays for after you’re actioned off and the cat’s out of the bag,” Tracey explained. “Don’t worry; we hid those, too.”
Taming My Whiskey Page 3
