The Faintest Spark: Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #1.5

by Christina Lee

  It had been way too long since I’d been able to kick back with a beer without constantly looking over my shoulder. Not that we didn’t take a load off regularly at the clubhouse. But given the events of the past few months, things had felt pretty heavy lately, and everybody was on high alert. But Fish had made good with the Russians, our debt was paid in full, and he assured us all would be set right again after this weekend.

  As I finished the last of my fries, the men chatted up some of the locals at the next table, who had obviously heard some MCs were in town and showed up in full force. Many were of the female variety but others were just motorcycle aficionados who wanted to be where the buzz was in this small town. We got that a lot, depending on the situation. Either folks gave us a wide berth or embraced us like a fascinating new exhibit at the zoo.

  Fish was charmed into dancing with a pretty redhead, so I walked up to the bar, where Felix sat beside a guy I recognized from the Crypt Keepers and a couple of local ladies. I ordered a shot and a beer from a chatty bartender with a long gray ponytail and sank down into the only seat available. I briefly made small talk with Felix who apparently had his eyes set on the brunette beside him.

  My cell buzzed with a text from an old friend: Meet me at Aces?

  Craig was also a sometime hookup I’d lost touch with since going underground with the Asylum. Out of town this weekend.

  When I didn’t get an immediate response, I pushed my phone back into my pocket and sipped at more of my beer.

  My entire body tensed when Mal walked into the bar. Several men turned to look in his direction—maybe because they knew him but more than likely because he was a commanding presence. In my peripheral vision, I watched as he moved through the room, greeting brothers along the way.

  I lifted my shot glass and downed the drink before reaching for the bowl of pretzels in front of me. Anything to keep my attention occupied elsewhere. No way I wanted it made obvious that Mal did things to me. Physically, emotionally. He made me feel hot and bothered. Yet safe and protected. And the warmth sliding down my throat and fuzzing my brain was probably not helping.

  I only raised my head when I felt his larger-than-life presence directly behind me as he patted Felix on the back. I glanced over my shoulder and met his gaze.

  “Looks like everyone got started without me.” That’s when I noticed he looked freshly showered, a water droplet at his temple, and he smelled, hot damn, like Mal. Spicy and warm and all man. Don’t get me wrong, I loved women, but there was just something about a confident, sexy male that got my pulse racing.

  “Better catch up then,” I replied, raising my beer.

  And just as I was about to offer to buy the next round, the bartender’s gravelly voice registered behind me. “Heard you helped put the nail in the coffin. Double crossing idiots,” he muttered for the whole line of stools to overhear. He was an older gentleman who looked close to retirement but probably would have to be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Given how much he chatted up the patrons, he enjoyed working and being part of the scene. Or maybe he didn’t have two nickels to rub together, and I had him pegged all wrong. Regardless, making that statement in the middle of a crowded bar was not cool.

  “I ain’t one to gossip.” Mal shrugged nonchalantly and then raised an eyebrow. “Best to reconsider what comes out of your mouth in public.”

  I suddenly appreciated Vaughn and what a tight ship he’d always seemed to run at the Hog’s Den. He would never spout off thinking he had any right to know club business. But I wasn’t about to start an argument with an old man set in his ways. By the looks of it, neither was Mal.

  “Understood,” the bartender said with an uneasy laugh, sensing Mal’s strong tone. “What can I get you?”

  “Whatever you got on draft,” Mal replied and as his knuckles rapped on the wood top, I felt his bicep slide against my shoulder. I kept my face forward but my gaze met his in the mirror on the back wall behind the liquor shelf.

  I heard Mal clear his throat before he glanced around the place. His eyes appeared to snag on Fish who was still near the jukebox with the redhead. His lips curved into a smirk, and he gave his head a minuscule shake.

  The chatty bartender placed the beer down in front of him. “How’ve you been otherwise?”

  “Good. And yourself?” he asked, but I could tell it was merely to be polite.

  “Just celebrated my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary,” the old man replied. Mal raised his glass in a toast and then guzzled the cold beer. The bartender didn’t even let him swallow properly before barking another question in his direction. “Got yourself an old lady?”

  “Nah,” he replied, briefly meeting my eyes in the mirror and I’d admit I had as many questions as anyone else did. I heard he had plenty of offers from women, but still, he seemed to keep himself at arm's length.

  “Heard the Hog’s Den did some remodeling.” Chatty Bartender quirked his lip and I could almost guess what was coming next. “A fresh coat of paint—maybe some colors of the rainbow?”

  A few guys around us snickered into their beer, and I shifted my feet uncomfortably on the stool. Stealing a quick sidelong glance at Felix, I detected how motionless he’d grown beside me. I was surprised the man hadn’t started in on me yet, but it might not have registered who I was, and I was certainly glad for it.

  “Sounds like you’ve got some strong opinions on things,” Mal replied, and I noticed how his fingers gripped the glass. Felix had turned in his stool as if ready to defend his leader at a moment’s notice. I narrowed my eyes at the talkative idiot while briefly considering pulling him over the side of the bar and smashing my fist into his face. But violence was not what we were about—not anymore—and the idea of living honest and clean filled my chest with relief.

  “That loose tongue is bound to get you in trouble.” Mal guzzled more of his beer and slammed the glass down onto the bar top for effect. “I’ve come to learn it don’t matter who you love or sleep with as long as you’re loyal and got a good heart. Figured at your age, you’d know better.”

  The bartender’s cheeks grew red, and he seemed at a loss for words. Same as me. I knew Mal had come to terms with Smoke and Vaughn’s relationship—one that had developed right under his nose—but I had never heard him spout off publicly about it.

  Felix rose from his seat and extended his hand to the brunette. “We’re going to take off. You cool with that?”

  “Have a good time,” Mal said, fist-bumping him, and I threw a wave over my shoulder as they left the bar.

  Next, I felt Mal’s hot breath on my ear. “I’m moving to that empty table in the back corner if you want to join me. Unless you’re getting some action of your own. No worries either way.”

  3

  Malachi

  I sank into the empty seat in the corner with my beer. Fucking big-mouth bartender. I remembered him from my last visit, so I supposed not much had changed. The dance floor was more packed now than when I entered. Fish knocked knuckles with me on my way over here and from the gleam in his eye, he was going to ask that redhead back to his room any minute now.

  A few other men wearing cuts seemed to be up and dancing, including Slider and DJ, and the locals were congregating near the small stage waiting for what appeared to be some country band if the banjo resting near the speaker was any hint.

  As soon as I spotted Sawyer walking over with a shot and a beer to join me, my heart rate picked up speed. So much for staying away from him. Even invited him to my table, so that notion went straight out the window.

  “You been getting that a lot?” he asked, motioning with his thumb to the bartender as he sank down beside me. We were at a four-seat table, so both of our backs were now against the wall, and we had a clear shot of the band. I breathed out a sigh of relief that I didn’t have a direct view of him. Not sure if I could drag my eyes from his. Not anymore.

  “Comes with the territory, I suppose,” I replied without looking at him.

  “F
uck them,” he said, raising his glass and taking a sip. “That’s what I tell the guys if they try to joke about the weeks I had to spend with…him.…”

  My gaze snapped to his, catching a glimpse of the haunted look I’d seen several times before. The effect of the last few months, again, made me pause. I had the itch to make things better. Make him forget. It didn’t help that I could feel the heat from his shoulder resting so closely next to mine.

  When Sawyer lifted his arm and downed the shot that had been in front of him, I couldn’t help wondering how many he’d already had tonight. My gaze followed his to the dance floor where Fish was busy schmoozing with the same local. Most likely he’d never let on to Fish or any of the other men what a toll being with that psychopath had taken on him. I should count myself lucky he’d confided in me.

  “They should be thanking you,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Not razzing you. Hell.”

  “You know how they are,” he mumbled, slinging his foot atop the chair across from him. When his knee innocently brushed against mine, my pulse jumped. “I mean, look at that bartender.”

  “Screw all of ’em,” I said, shaking my head. “Can’t they see how the world is changing? Just can’t ignore people’s preferences or rights anymore.”

  Silence descended between us, and I realized at that moment how much I’d changed as a person in the past couple of years. How the events of my life had shaped me. Hardened me, yeah, but smoothed me out as well. Light in the loafers, my dad would’ve quipped some twenty years ago. I clenched my jaw. He was a tough bastard and even though we didn’t see eye to eye on plenty of things, I certainly never wanted him dead.

  “Thanks for always being cool. If it hadn’t been for you…” Sawyer rapped his knuckles on the table and then sat up straighter, never finishing his sentence. Except now I was dying to know exactly what he was going to say. “So why aren’t you out there hooking up with one of the locals?”

  “I’m not…” My gaze snagged on his, and we stared for a prolonged moment before I looked away. Sawyer’s eyes were a piercing blue, the harsh line of his jaw littered with rough stubble, which was so different from the soft curves of the women I’d been attracted to. His tattoos made him look lived-in, and his hands were beat up from working on motorcycles. He was goddamn gorgeous, and I was only now admitting that to myself. Holy fuck.

  I’d never been attracted to a man before. Had I? At least not in recent memory. This was the very thing I was struggling with. Had being exposed to Smoke and Vaughn’s relationship—and Cory and Jude’s, for that matter—opened up some locked-away place inside of me? Leading a queer life had always been a taboo topic in my family as well as in the MC lifestyle, so quite possibly, I had always shut down the very prospect in my brain.

  But something else had been rising to the surface recently—memories from back in my navy days when some of the men would provide each other relief after months at sea. Nobody talked about it, but some nights I’d hear the deep and carnal noises. And on a few of those evenings, I would yank on my own cock to those sounds, imagining not a woman going down on me, but a rough-and-tumble man. I’d dismissed it as just wanting something quick and dirty because it had been so long. But now I wasn’t so sure.

  “You’re not what?” Sawyer asked, dragging me out of my thoughts and I could feel my hand shaking beneath the table from the vivid memory. Christ.

  “I’m not interested in hooking up with any of these women,” I sputtered out a little too easily. So I added, “Not tonight.”

  His shoulder nudged against mine conspiratorially. “Rumor has it nobody holds a candle to your old lady…”

  “You know how the guys talk,” I said. “In fact, just had a whole conversation about it—”

  “But is it true?” he asked suddenly and then looked into my eyes, his own holding a mixture of curiosity and misery. Though I wasn’t sure what that meant.

  “Not exactly. I just want…” I sighed. “Had my share of empty one-offs. Not interested in that anymore.”

  His shoulders relaxed against the seat. “You still got needs, though.”

  “Yeah, sure, I got needs,” I said, ignoring what the thought of getting those needs met would mean with someone like Sawyer. “Don’t matter, though. Would rather just—”

  “What?” Sawyer adjusted his legs beneath the seat as if he were also struggling to contain himself. Although I could’ve been reading way into it.

  “Rather just shoot the breeze with you is all,” I muttered, and I heard his breath catch in his throat. Holy fuck, did I just admit that out loud?

  I struggled to swallow as the tension between us thickened. All the hairs on my arm, which was resting just a fraction from his, stood at attention as we pretended to watch the band perform their first song.

  “I like this place,” Sawyer said after another beat, looking around the room. “It was nice to get out of town for the weekend.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I always like riding out here. The rooms are decent too. I’m on the third floor. Three oh one. How about you?”

  “Same floor, opposite end. Three twenty. Clean and the beds are comfortable. Fish said as much on the ride here.”

  Right then, Sawyer’s cell buzzed loudly with a series of texts from where he’d placed it on the table. He lifted his phone and smiled. I shouldn’t have asked but I was too intrigued. “The guys bugging you again?”

  “Nah, just an old friend wondering where I’ve been the past couple of months. Guess I sort of disappeared there for a while.”

  “Understood. He somebody who’s in the lifestyle?”

  “Which one?” he asked with a smirk. He knew I meant the MC. “Nah, a buddy from high school—and once upon a time, a regular hookup.”

  Something hot spiked inside my gut. “That what he’s looking for tonight?”

  “Don’t think so. We mostly hang out and shoot the shit. It’s nice to have somebody who gets where you’re coming from.”

  Sawyer had told me about his family and why he’d felt so strongly about bringing Jake down, so I got why he felt that way. I didn’t have many left in my life who understood where I came from either.

  My heart battered in my chest all through the band’s second number as I considered why I’d be so unnerved by an innocent text.

  Sawyer downed his beer and tapped the empty glass on the table.

  “Well, I’ve had my fill. Heading to bed,” he said, standing up. “Maybe it’ll help me sleep.”

  My eyebrows drew together. I had no idea he’d continued to struggle with sleepless nights. “Still having trouble?”

  “Yeah, nothing I can’t handle,” he replied, pushing in the chair.

  “Maybe you’re the one that needs to get lost in somebody tonight.” Yet the thought of him taking off with some random person from the bar sat bitterly in my gut. Just like that text message. What the hell?

  “You volunteering?” he responded after a beat. As we stared each other down, I could see his chest inflating with heavy breaths.

  “Just messing with you,” he muttered and just as he was about to turn and walk away, my fingers gripped his forearm.

  “Damn it, Sawyer,” I replied, tightening my grasp so he’d be forced to stay put and finish the conversation. “What the fuck are you saying?”

  He struggled for a second, that defiant look back in his eye. “You know damn well any of your guys would get on their knees for you. They worship you. You are stunning as a man and as their leader.”

  Holy fucking hell. My heart climbed to my throat. “Yeah? And that includes you, does it?”

  “Nah, got my own prez I need to be loyal to,” he replied, bending low to my ear. “But if we’re just talking about a release of the physical variety, that’s a whole different thing.”

  My gaze darted around at the tables, wondering if anybody was paying attention to us. “Fucking hell. If you’d said something like that to me a year ago, I would’ve bloodied your nose.”

 
He angled an eyebrow as his voice grew low and husky. “And now?”

  I shut my eyes and swallowed roughly. “Now…I…I should still slug the shit out of you.”

  “You randomly hit people who offer to get you off? Or is this because I’m a man and you’re actually considering it?” My mouth dropped open as he pulled his arm back. “Now let go of me.”

  As soon as my fingers dropped, he stormed off.

  Fish stood watching us across the room, his eyes narrowed. I motioned with my hand and wrist to mimic Sawyer having his fill of drinks. He nodded as if that made sense to him. For all I knew, that was why Sawyer had made such an uninhibited offer in the first place. The idea of him making such a proposal to anybody else burned like acid in my gut. He wouldn’t dare be that stupid, would he?

  But this wasn’t about Sawyer being impulsive. This was about the fact that something had grown between us the past few weeks, and he wasn’t as good at ignoring it as I was. Or maybe he was just braver.

  Instead of getting up and going after Sawyer like I was itching to do, I moved a couple of tables down to catch up with Slider and DJ.

  4

  Sawyer

  In all probability, I was going to get my ass kicked, or at the very least get a tongue-lashing from Fish, once Mal divulged I’d hit on him. Why the fuck would I proposition the Disciples’ president? It didn’t matter if we’d gotten to know each other pretty well the last couple of months. That didn’t mean he felt a similar kind of buzzing as I did in my stomach every time we were in the same room.

  Call me crazy, but it always felt like there was this electric current crackling and sizzling, transforming the air and space between us. The way he looked at me sometimes…holy fuck. Was I only imagining it? How his gaze would intently study my lips and how just the slightest accidental contact between us would cause him to shiver? Maybe the alcohol had gone to my head.