by Debra Kayn
He shut off the engine and put the kickstand down. Tilted on the Harley, she said, "What's wrong?"
"You've got company."
She let go of him and half-turned, looking over her shoulder. Spotting Cal's car coming to a stop behind them, she said, "I wonder what he's doing here again."
"Who is it?"
"Cal. My old boss." She slid off the seat and stood near Curley.
She'd been clear when she quit her job that she never wanted anything to do with him. The others working at the lounge had heard every word. She was tired of him trying to push his way into her life.
Cal needed to get over his feelings toward her because she didn't feel the same way.
She gasped as if someone stole her breath. Lightheaded, she swayed at the realization that she could've been talking about Curley and her, and not Cal and her, except the roles were reversed.
Had she pushed herself at Curley? Did he want to be rid of her?
"Hey, Faye." Cal ignored Curley. "You're looking good."
"What do you want?" she asked, her heart racing.
"To talk to you." Cal reached out and flipped down the collar of her leather jacket. "I've missed you."
"Stop." She backed up a step. "You need to leave."
He moved forward. "Don't be like that, baby."
"She told you to leave," said Curley behind her.
He'd gotten off his motorcycle and pressed against her back. His hands covered her shoulders and moved her to the side, and he stepped in front of her. Blocked from seeing Cal, she bit her lip.
"Last warning. If I see or hear you've been near her, you're going to have a problem with me," said Curley.
She stared at the back of Curley's vest. Cal had no idea who he was messing with when any member of Tarkio Motorcycle Club got involved. If he was smart, he'd high-tail it away from her house.
"She belongs to me, and if I see you around her again or stopping at her house, we're going to have a big problem." Curley removed his pistol. "Understand?"
She leaned forward at his announcement and caught herself before she touched Curley. He only claimed that when he argued with her. She'd suspected only the Tarkio members knew their status, not the outside world. Definitely not Cal or her friends.
A car door slammed. She peeked around Curley's broad body. Cal had taken the threat and was leaving.
Curley turned around. "Get on the bike, Faye."
Hurrying to do his bidding, she slid on behind him and held on when he roared out of her neighborhood. Not knowing or caring what he meant to do with her, she settled in behind him.
Chapter 16
Curley
Outside the vacant warehouse, Curley unlocked the door. He spread his fingers on Faye's lower back and guided her inside with him. She hadn't opened her mouth once since they'd arrived, and he held on to the hope that she was willing to listen.
The barren room had nothing to impress her. There were two windows on the far side, not facing the street. And three-thousand square feet of concrete floor. Each of his steps echoed against the high ceiling.
Faye followed him into the middle of the room. He stopped and faced her.
She glanced at him before looking around the empty space again. He only had one shot laying out the idea to her. After that, Walker would hold up the deal he'd made with her, and Faye would no longer be his. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
He needed her to agree to his plan, for both their sakes.
"Why am I here?" she asked.
"Because you and your friends need a job, and I'm interested in hiring servers." He folded his arms across his chest. "It doesn't look like much—"
"It doesn't look like anything."
"It will." He reached out to rub her cheek and stopped before touching her. Clearing his throat, he said, "Give me two weeks, and this place will be a bar."
Her brows raised, and her eyes danced in amusement. "Sure, it will."
There might not be anything here at the moment, but with everyone in Tarkio lending a hand, he'd have enough tables and chairs lined up. If needed, he could order some kegs until he could line up a supplier for alcohol.
Beer and women. There wasn't much more a man needed for a good time and to lay down some money. Every Tarkio member knew how to throw a party. Everything else involved in running a business was paperwork.
"It'll take at least three weeks to get a liquor license." She turned in a circle, looking over the area. "Not to mention insurance."
"I can speed things through," he said.
It'd taken him two days to contact the owner of the warehouse and work out a deal to rent the place. He wasn't looking long-term. A year would give him time to calm Walker down and keep Faye close to his side.
If for somehow, the bar became profitable, he'd turn the business over to Tarkio or sell the outfit to someone else. He'd be happy to only have the V.P. position at the club, keeping him busy.
"Of course, you're a Tarkio member," she murmured, facing him. "I still don't think it's a good idea for us to work together."
"Why not?"
She tilted her head, gazing at him. "Because you can't stand to be around me."
"That's not true."
Her lips thinned, and she shrugged. "It is what it is, Curley."
He hooked her chin with his finger, raising her gaze. Deep down, she had to know how much he wanted her.
Her eyes flickered as if she couldn't make up her mind on which of his eyes to look at, or maybe she was fighting her own feelings. It was hard to tell how she felt.
He walked across the room, giving her space. "I'll pay you better than Lance does at Kingston Bar."
He needed her away from the other business. Tarkio wasn't welcome there. Men who called themselves bikers without a club hung out there and were known to cause trouble. More nights than not, the cops were called to settle everyone down.
He had no control over the atmosphere, and couldn't guarantee she'd be safe if she continued working for Lance. If she needed help, valuable minutes would get in-between her call and his arrival.
Understanding why Walker agreed to help her leave him if she stopped working at Kingston Bar, if she turned him down on the job—he'd lose her.
Faye had no idea what she'd gotten her and her friends into by working for Lance, and he wanted her somewhere safe. More importantly, he wanted her to feel like she had a choice on where she could work.
Hell, it was vital for her to choose working with him. He needed some kind of hope that she hadn't given up on him. As soon as he admitted his reasons to himself, he accepted that he was a selfish asshole.
"If we could make it work out between us..." He returned to her. "It would mean money coming in. You'd still have time to work in the nursery."
She rubbed her lips together. His gut tightened. There wasn't much she could do without him noticing. Even when she breathed, her body came alive. Her breasts rose and fell. Her lips parted. He dropped his gaze to her hand. She had a habit of twirling her thumb ring, round and round, when she was thinking.
"I don't know," she murmured, half turning away from him.
"It's a job. Work as many days as you need to bring in enough money to support yourself." He lit a cigarette, needing to calm down and stick to business. "I'll be busy getting this place up and running through all the problems that'll arise until we figure things out. You probably won't even see me."
"You'll be here. I'll see you."
He exhaled. "I'll be running the bar."
"What about your V.P. job?" Her brows lowered. "That's a full-time job. Why are you opening a bar?"
"Why were you waitressing topless?"
"Touche'," she whispered.
Curley gazed at her. "Eventually, the bar will belong to Tarkio. Some of the others who need a paying job can take over running the place."
"You've never managed a business." She looked at his chest. "And running a motorcycle club isn't the same. You're going to have to follow
the rules, schedule deliveries, set up an account with a distributor, not to mention deal with the public. I don't see how—"
"I'll hire you as the manager," he blurted.
She gawked at him.
Acting fast, he added, "Your friends will be safe here."
Anything she wanted, he'd give her. The deal she'd struck with Walker couldn't happen. If that meant putting her in charge, or hell, handing over the bar to her, he would.
She'd worked at the lounge for several years. She knew how to keep a bar afloat. It couldn't be too hard to have her do the same thing here.
"Oh, I don't know..." She frowned. "Serving drinks is different than managing."
"You can do it." He crossed his arms and hooked his hands under his armpits. "I don't expect perfection. We're all starting this from scratch. For now, it's not going to be much more than a party full of Tarkio members until word gets around that it's open to the public. If you run into problems, there will be a room full of people willing to help you out. I'll help you. We can be partners."
"That hasn't worked in the past."
"This is business."
She studied him. "You're serious.
"Dead." He locked on to her eyes and swallowed. "Please."
She looked away. He reached out to turn her attention back to him and dropped his hand to his side. Nobody needed to tell him to walk softly with her, or she'd bolt away from the offer.
"Give me six weeks of your time. Two weeks to help me get this place open, and four weeks of you and your friends working here, trying to build up a customer base. After that, if you're miserable, you can leave," he said.
All he needed was time. Time to figure out how he could keep her in his life without her knowing what transpired in the past.
She turned her head and looked up at him. "How am I supposed to be around you all the time?"
"We'll work it out."
"Hm." Her lips thinned, and she inhaled swiftly. "What kind of money are you talking about?"
Adrenaline rushed through him. He had her thinking. "Name your price."
Her cheeks flushed, and she walked around the room, ignoring him. As long as she was thinking about the offer and ultimately would agree, she could spend the whole evening asking him questions.
She walked to the back of the empty room, looked at him, and pointed at the door. He nodded, giving her permission to look at the rest of the area. There was another empty room, smaller and with a lower ceiling. In that space, stairs led up to a studio apartment.
Staying back, he let her go on her own. All he saw was a space for partying. It wasn't hard to whip up a counter, roll in some refrigerators, and tap a keg or two. While he knew there was more to running a bar, he wanted to start out simple where Tarkio members were comfortable to hang out when they weren't at the clubhouse.
Usually, the members went to Riverside Bar across town. But there were nights that they stayed away. As time went by, the place was turning more into a sports bar, centering their nights around pool tournaments and dart games—not exactly their scene.
There were two titty bars in Missoula. Kingston Bar and a rinky-dink saloon with two dancers that'd been there for at least five years and looked as if every customer had enjoyed them after hours.
Faye returned to him with pinched brows and turmoil in her stormy eyes. He swallowed, needing her to agree. If she refused, there wasn't much more he could do. Walker would let Priest know that Faye was leaving him, and he'd have to let her go.
"This is a huge endeavor, Curley." She slid her hands into the pockets of the leather jacket. "I like the idea of having my friends working somewhere like this, only because I know they'll be protected by Tarkio. I think they'd also agree that the atmosphere could be better than at Kingston if business was good. Though tips are going to be less."
"But...?" he said, hearing her hesitation.
"I'm scared." She looked him straight in the eyes. "You and I are like dynamite."
He chuckled for the first time today. That was one way to describe them. The spark between them exploded if he got too close to her.
She blinked an extra beat. "You've got me for six weeks, and I'll let the others know. I'm not going to answer for them."
The tension left his chest, and he dipped his chin. "It'll work out."
She blew out her breath. "I could fail."
"You might succeed."
"I'd need help," she said.
"I'll make sure you get it."
She pursed her lips and stared at him. He stuck out his arm, needing to seal the deal.
Her gaze dropped to his hand. "It's probably better that I don't touch you."
His cock pulsed, knowing what she was thinking and feeling. He tilted his head, challenging her because he was going to prove they could work out.
"You better take me home, uncle. Tomorrow morning is going to come fast if we're going to turn this place into a real bar." She walked toward the door with her parting shot.
He watched her ass sway side to side with each step, then followed her outside. He wasn't her uncle.
He hadn't been her uncle since he had sex with her.
Chapter 17
Faye
Music blared from inside the warehouse. Faye opened the front door and stopped. Taking her purse off her shoulder and setting the bag on the floor, she skirted the activities going on inside.
Paradise City blared off the boombox, putting her in a good mood, full of energy to work.
Paco walked past her, stopped, and came back. "Uh, Curley's here. You might want to hang around outside."
"Trust me. He wants me here." She gazed around the room.
At least a dozen Tarkio members moved around, carrying chairs, building tables, and working near a pile of lumber in the back. She rubbed her hands together, ready to jump in wherever she was needed. The wages Curley agreed to pay her were more than she was used to receiving.
But she was also going to work her butt off, getting the place up and running.
"Paco, grab the sack of bolts and start securing the tables." Banks stopped in front of Faye and grinned. "How are you doing, honey?"
"Good." She stretched to her toes and hugged Banks. "I've missed you. How's aunty and the kids?"
"They're nothing but trouble." He chuckled. "If my old lady ain't keeping me up at night, it's my kids."
She laughed, smiling up at him. "You love every minute."
"Yeah." He winked, and then his brows lowered. "It'd make Charlotte's day if you come by and visit with her."
Touched that Banks still thought of her fondly, she rubbed his arm. "Maybe I will since I'll be in Missoula most nights now."
He nodded. "Good deal."
"I better find out where I'm needed." She walked over to the group of Tarkio members surrounding the lumber.
Unable to tell what they were building, she stood on the outskirts of their circle. It was an intoxicating experience being around them all. It brought back good memories and bad memories. Some she remembered fondly, some she wanted to forget.
"Frank, where's the electrical cord for the dishwasher?" shouted Curley.
She turned around and found Curley in the open doorway at the back of the room. Wanting to find out what she should be doing, she jogged over to him.
He turned and grew two inches. She slowed to a walk, hating that he always stiffened when she was around.
"I thought you weren't coming in until this afternoon," he said, running his hand over his shaved head.
He'd taken the time to break out his razor between two days ago and now. She slid her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans, knowing exactly what that smooth scalp felt like.
"I watched Stephanie's son while she went to the dentist and thought I'd come over early instead of going all the way home." She tried not to look at him. "What can I do?"
"Most of the things we're doing this week is the heavy work." He paused why hammering went on nearby. When the noise broke, he said, "Can you go pi
ck up some food?"
She nodded. "Sure."
He took money out of his wallet and fished out several bills. "Keep the change."
She glanced down and rolled her eyes before slipping the cash into her pocket. Choosing not to argue with him over the amount he'd given her that would be enough to feed all three-hundred-and-whatever Tarkio members, she said, "What do you want me to buy?"
"Burgers." He grabbed Frank. "Get a headcount, Faye's going to pick up lunch."
"On it." Frank stretched his neck, scanning the room while walking away.
She watched the others while she waited for an answer. For the number of people working at the warehouse, she'd have better luck calling in a take-out order rather than waiting at the restaurant.
"Is there a phone here?" she asked.
"Not yet." He leaned closer. "What do you need?"
"I was going to call in the order, and give the poor waitress a break on rushing to get the food made while I wait. But it's okay, I'll just drive over there." She tapped her foot with the music, happy to be helpful.
"I have a satellite phone in my bag you can use."
"No, the minutes are too expensive. I can run over there and wait. No biggy." She turned as Frank approached them.
"Twenty-two and Rick and Wyatt are heading this way." Frank tossed a hammer to a member Faye hadn't seen before.
"So, twenty-four. Want me to double the order?" She looked to Curley, who nodded. "Okay, I'll be back in a bit."
She got three steps away, and Curley said, "Faye?"
She turned. "Yes?"
"Drive safe." His gaze intensified. "There's no hurry."
Her stomach fluttered, and she licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She nodded and walked to the door, feeling the heat of him watching her back.
Leaving the warehouse, she got in her car and rolled down the windows. It was only seventy degrees, and she was on the verge of breaking out in a sweat.
It wasn't the sun.
It was Curley.
Ever since she agreed to take the job and try to manage the bar, along with her friends working for Curley, she found herself overwhelmed. She had no idea what she was doing.
