by Debra Kayn
If he were a good man, he'd have her in his bed every night and keep her to himself because he hated the thought of one of his MC brothers having her. And, it wouldn't be long before every single man in the clubhouse tried to get in her pants.
But even Heather could see he was an asshole at heart.
He had to be.
Because he was one.
He shook his head, looked away from the woman who made him forget where he came from and stood. It was time to get out of here and go find the person after him.
He never once believed the attack was a random hit.
He wasn't that lucky.
Chapter Thirteen
"I hope you enjoyed your meals." Heather cleared the two plates from the table and flashed a smile onto the customers. "Can I get either of you a drink?"
The late dinner crowd usually stayed for the music, conversation, and to relax over a drink or two. The laid-back atmosphere and the good spirit of the customers was one reason she enjoyed working until closing. Plus, the tips were bigger the longer she could keep the customers around.
"We'll have two beers." The man leaned back in his chair. "Whatever is on tap is fine."
"Two Budweisers coming up." Heather smiled and hurried to the counter. "Two Buds, Raelyn."
"I'm on it." Raelyn's step hesitated, and she broke out in a smile, blowing a kiss to someone behind Heather. "Well, look who finally dragged his cute little ass in."
Heather glanced over her shoulder and couldn't stop the rush of adrenaline that hit her. Rod strolled toward her with Mel and JayJay at his side.
She patted the barstool in front of her, and when Rod took up the offer of a seat, she said, "It's so good to see you."
Rod dipped his chin. "Hey, sassy," he said quietly.
Mel and JayJay found an empty table and made themselves at home. Heather took in everything about Rod within seconds. God, he looked wonderful. He no longer walked carefully with each step but appeared strong and determined like his old self. The only difference was the tightness that remained around his eyes.
Raelyn came over and joined Heather in inspecting Rod. "Please tell me you haven't eaten, so I can feed you."
"A burger would hit the spot." Rod planted his elbows on the counter. "How's Dukie?"
Raelyn's whole face smiled, and she slid over two beers in Heather's direction. "Wait and see for yourself. Jana's bringing him down in ten minutes for some loving before he goes to bed for the night. He'd love to see you. He's been asking where Uncle Rod's been and I told him you've been working."
Heather carried the beer order over to her table and hurried back to the bar to hear what more Rod had to say but Raelyn was already back to helping other customers, and the conversation had ended. She grabbed the cleaning rag and wiped down the area in front of Rod, needing to stay with him.
"You're really doing better?" she asked.
Rod removed his elbows while she wiped. "Yeah."
"Maybe the rest you've been getting has helped." She set the rag underneath the counter.
"Maybe," mumbled Rod, looking around the bar.
She had no idea if he rested, she was hedging. Her dad, in typical fashion, only gave her enough information when she asked about Rod's condition to know that Rod wasn't dead. That wasn't the answer she wanted to hear and seeing him with her own eyes relieved her worry.
"I'd offer you a whiskey, but you shouldn't take any if you're taking pain medicine," she said softly.
Rod brought his gaze back to her. "I'm not taking any medicine, but I'm not drinking anyway."
She waited for him to say more and when he continued looking everywhere but at her, she walked away to check on the customers at table three. Then more Ronacks members walked in, and she took orders from all of them and retreated to the kitchen to hand over the dinner requests to Peggy, the cook.
A quick look in the reflection of the stainless-steel refrigerator, she straightened her shirt, stuck her lower lip out and blew the hair off her forehead that had escaped her ponytail. While she had no choice on how she appeared while working, she was conscious of what Rod saw when he looked at her.
"Auntie." A squeal had filled the kitchen before a little body collided with her legs.
Everything else forgotten, Heather bent over and picked up Raelyn's two-year-old son and kissed his warm cheek. The loud smack of her lips brought out giggles.
"How's my favorite little man?" She squeezed him.
"Night," shouted Dukie.
"Time for bed, huh?" She inhaled his sweet, fresh out of the bathtub, baby scent clinging to his soft neck.
Not yet a full-time talker and most times she had to concentrate to figure out the one-word answers, Dukie handed out affection better than anyone she knew. He called all the women associated with Ronacks MC auntie and all the men uncle. Much loved, the little boy had anything he wanted at his disposal.
Raelyn rubbed Dukie's back and squeezed past Heather. "Bring him out to the bar when you're done with him.
"I will." Heather winked at Dukie. "Maybe. Or, I'll stay back here and hang with my main man. I haven't had a chance to play with you for a couple of weeks."
"Weeks," shouted Dukie, kicking his legs to get down.
"Okay, little monster." Heather placed him on his feet and took his hand. "Let's get you out there and let you run havoc on the customers."
She laughed as Dukie broke away from her and ran into the bar with all the exuberance of a puppy chasing the sunshine. She smiled at Raelyn catching her son and setting Dukie up on the bar in front of Rod.
"Hey, Heather, darlin'. Drinks all around," shouted Joseph Green, one of the regulars from the county road crew.
She hustled along the length of the counter, set four shot glasses on a tray, and found the whiskey Joseph preferred. Energized because life was beginning to go back to her old normal with Rod hanging out at the bar, she skirted the room and caught up with each of her assigned tables. Gia needed help with one of her customers, and Heather picked up Table Number Two while Gia ran back to the kitchen to make a special request. The moment Heather finished, she hurried behind the counter to spend every free moment with Rod.
Rod held out his closed fist to Dukie. "You have to guess."
"Candy?" Dukie fiddled with Rod's big fingers trying to open his hand.
"No, man. You've got a one-track mind." Rod grinned and turned his fist over and opened his hand, palm up.
Heather peeked at what Rod held out to Dukie and spotted a Matchbox motorcycle.
"Bike." Dukie snatched the toy from Rod and blew sputters out his mouth waving the motorcycle in the air.
"Not just any bike, little brother," said Rod softly. "It's one like your dad had and man, he loved to ride."
Dukie continued to play, ignoring Rod. Heather gazed at Rod, taking in the quiet acceptance and memories he'd drawn up for the boy. Raelyn would never have her husband back. Dukie would never know his father. But, the men—all the men—of Ronacks Motorcycle Club would keep Dukie's father alive in spirit.
Raelyn cleared her throat, set down a plate on the counter, and reached for her son. "Alright, time for bed, son. Tell Rod thank you."
Dukie continued playing with his present while his mom tucked him onto her hip. Rod reached out and ruffled the boy's hair and watched him leave the room. Heather swallowed the emotions of knowing Raelyn and Dukie would forever miss the vacancy in their life of losing a husband and a father. She understood the pain of wanting something so bad and never getting what you want.
Though she received her dad back in her life only four short months ago, she often believed it was too late to cure the scars that remained inside of her from her childhood.
She loved her dad, and Gia was wonderful and turned into a good friend, but there was a fear that dwelled inside of her like a long-time bully that she couldn't shake.
"Hey," whispered Rod.
She snapped her head up.
Rod's gaze intensified. "You okay?"
&nb
sp; "Yeah. Sure." She nodded and looked at his untouched plate of food. "You better eat before your meal gets cold."
Not waiting around, she checked in with her customers, wiped down two empty tables, and dealt with those ready to pay their bill. She closed the cash register and checked on Rod. He'd finished eating his burger and concentrated on consuming the rest of his fries.
Gia approached the counter. "Do you have time to split some bills?"
"Sure." Heather reopened the register. "How much do you need?"
"Sixty." Gia passed her three twenty dollar bills. "I don't know why the members of Ronacks feel like they have to pay bigger tips when they do so much for us."
Heather laughed softly and handed Gia the equivalent of her tips in one and five dollar bills. "It took me a week to learn not to argue with any of them. I've never met a bunch of more stubborn men than those who wear the Ronacks patch."
Gia sighed and looked over at the table of men that had become family to both of them. Heather studied the concern in her dad's girlfriend. With everything going on with Rod and everyone on edge, she hadn't had time to talk with Gia about anything besides schedules and work details.
"Is everything okay?" asked Heather.
Gia turned and faced her. "When was the last time eight Ronacks members, not counting Swiss and Rod who are regulars, came in at the same time?"
"I...don't know." Heather gazed down the length of the bar.
Rod sat relaxed, leaning on his elbows, done with his dinner. She raised her gaze to his handsome face with the rough-whiskered jawline. Rod had stormy eyes that melted her but were extremely hard to read. She followed his gaze to the mirror behind the bar and caught him watching the room behind him.
"Uh, Gia?" She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Look at him."
"Who?"
"Rod." Heather waited, and when Gia remained quiet, she said, "What's he looking for?"
Gia looked at her with wide eyes. "Hang on."
"Wait." Heather lunged over the counter until only her tiptoes kept her balanced and grabbed the back of Gia's shirt.
"What. Are. You. Doing?" Gia grabbed the front of her top to keep her breasts covered.
"Don't be obvious," she said with a hiss. "You know dad will get all tight lipped if we ask any questions about one of the members."
Gia winked. "I've got that covered."
Heather fell back to the flat of her feet and walked over to Rod. The more she appeared busy and unconcerned, the more likely Gia would get answers. If her dad suspected her or Gia of being curious toward Rod, he'd refuse to hand any information over.
Then, she'd spend all night tossing and turning in bed trying to figure out what quality she lacked that made her dad refuse to confide in her, no matter how many times he assured her that he loved her.
She tapped the bar. "All done?"
"Yeah." Rod ran his hands down his thighs, noticed her putting the plate in the cart behind her and said, "Thanks."
"I'll get you dessert," she said.
"No." He shifted on the stool. "Not tonight."
"Okay." She glanced around the room and then gave him her full attention. "I've missed you."
"You've said that," he said.
"I know," she whispered and dropped her chin to her chest. "It's just that lately, I'm not sure you believe what I say."
"Heather..."
"No." She looked at him. "It's true, and I get it...to a degree. You almost died, and you're probably not feeling one-hundred percent. That would rattle anyone."
"I'm doing fine."
She tilted her head. "Prove it."
Rod's lips thinned. She pursed her lips in challenge. Whatever caused him to pull away from her after the attack was not going to stop her from moving forward. The night he laid bleeding to death outside the back door of the bar, he was coming to pick her up. They were going to have sex.
They never had their time together.
She wanted another invite.
Chapter Fourteen
Gia hurried away from the Ronacks table, grabbed Heather, and pulled her into the kitchen. Rod caught the women's actions in the reflection of the mirror behind the counter at the bar from his perch on the bar stool. Glad for the reprieve, he could focus on the only reason he came to Pine Bar and Grill. To catch the man who'd attacked him.
Heather only distracted him.
Fuck.
He distracted himself.
With her around, all he wanted to do was keep her close and pick up from where they'd left off before his attack. But, he had to finish what was started before he could dedicate any time to figuring out how to keep her in his life.
The more he pushed Heather away, the harder she pulled him closer. Used to women who sought him out for comfort and respected the unspoken rules he set, he found himself admiring Heather more for her unconventional way to frustrate him. She seemed to enjoy breaking the rules and in the process, gave him more incentive to have her.
He walked a dangerous path.
Heather would always be a part of Ronacks because of being Swiss's daughter. Because he wore the Ronacks patch, he had to step up and think of Heather first, because he'd be around for the rest of her life through the club. They had to work things out.
He ran his hand over his face. The circumstances of the attack on him changed everything. Swiss would never allow him to fuck his daughter and put her at risk without some kind of obligation to make it permanent or at least protect her from any hurt.
Heather stormed out of the kitchen and planted herself on the other side of the bar from him. Her gaze flashed irritation, and her cheeks flushed, bearing the brunt of the temper she failed to hold in check. "Are you crazy?"
Not knowing what pissed her off, he rubbed his thumb against the wood of the counter. "Probably."
"You come here to sit out in the open, practically begging whoever attacked you to shoot you in the back as you walk out to your motorcycle, and act like nothing is going on?" Heather huffed. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"News travels fast," he muttered, glancing over at Gia who studied him from a distance, guilty of talking about club business that should never have been shared with Heather.
Heather crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. He pushed her questions away and gazed at the mirror and found Swiss standing at the Ronacks table with his eyes on Rod's back. Cornered and pulled in two different directions, he understood the position he was in.
Cut whatever he'd started with Heather off or step up and take responsibility for what he was putting her through.
He could no longer walk away. Maybe he never wanted to in the first place, and that's why he sat at the bar with Heather.
"Can you give me a few minutes?" he asked Heather.
She lifted her chin. He took her stubborn stance to mean she'd wait. She was a lot like her dad in that way. Quiet at times that required few words and more tenacious than she needed to be. She went out of her way to protect herself, and he hated that he'd forced her to feel defensive while protective of him.
He stood from the stool and walked across the room. Swiss, anticipating him, stepped away from the table and followed him toward the front door of the bar away from the others.
Not wanting to waste any time, he faced Swiss. He couldn’t remember a time when he ever asked someone's permission. He refused to start now.
"I'll need an escort back to my house at closing time because Heather will be spending the night with me. I'll call in the morning when she's ready to return to the duplex," he said.
Swiss dipped his chin. "I've known you for over twenty years."
"I know," said Rod.
Over the years, Swiss had his back, and Rod had returned the favor. He'll they'd partied together and made their way around almost every woman who'd hung out at the club. Swiss had seen every dirty moment. They were a part of each other's life by brotherhood, friendship, and friendship. Yet, they'd both kept their secrets.
He underst
ood Swiss's reluctance to approve of his relationship with Heather, but there was no other way to have Heather in his bed but to inform Swiss first. To fuck her on the sly would hurt his friendship with Swiss and put added stress on the club if one MC brother couldn't trust another member.
"Heather's a grown woman." Swiss grimaced and shut down on him. "I'll get a few others to escort you."
"Appreciate it." Rod rocked back on the heels of his boots, done with the required conversation.
"Wait." Swiss stepped toward him and his gaze intensified. "Heather's got a right to live her life the way she chooses and if you're who she wants to spend her time with, that's her decision, not mine. But, if at any time I find out that you've caused her more hurt than what comes naturally when you're messing with a woman, I will hunt you down and finish stabbing your heart out."
"I don't plan on hurting her," he said.
"Make sure."
"Fair enough." Rod stepped back, testing Swiss to see if he was done with his threats and when his MC brother stayed back, he turned around and walked back to his seat at the bar.
Heather delivered a customer's drink and hurried to his side. "What were you talking to my dad about?"
He stared at her mouth. Her lower lip quivered, and he couldn't tell if she was scared or furious.
"You're coming home with me," he said.
Her chin dropped. He used his finger and closed her mouth.
"Your dad is gathering a few riders to escort us to my house after the bar closes." He trailed his thumb over her lip.
"You think letting my dad know where I'll be tonight without asking me first proves you're still into me?" She blinked.
Her uncertainty grabbed him by the balls, and he tugged her forward until she stood between his thighs.
"Here's the thing." He held on to her hips, and she braced her hands on his chest, sending warmth through him. "I've been skirting around being with you because I have someone who wants me dead. I like to control my life, and I never planned on involving you in how I live. It's easier that way."
She gawked. "You're kidding me."
