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But fuck no.
If he had any fucking sense in his head, he’d let her do what she threatened. Pack up her shit and leave. He could turn this bar around without her by using the MC to run it. It could be profitable for both the bar and the club.
He couldn’t imagine she’d just walk away.
But, worse, he couldn’t let her.
Did he want her? Fuck yes.
Did she want him?
Both in the barn and even now, he saw the pulse pounding along the delicate line of her throat. It wasn’t from fear.
Fuck no.
He was stirring something deep down inside her, the same as she was doing to him.
He came back to Manning Grove to get his life in order, to rebuild the club. He did not come back to find a woman. He didn’t need that complication, he had too much work to do.
But Stella wasn’t just any woman. She knew the ins and outs of an MC. She came from Fury blood.
She also had a passion and determination he admired. She was like a pit bull hanging on to the throat of this bar, until she had nothing left. She would starve to death before letting go.
He knew this not only because of what Dutch had told him—the man could flap his gums—but by what he saw in her.
Her grit.
It was the same as his.
She was the kind of woman who could stand by his side and help him rebuild. A woman who would not need constant reassurances, would not want to play relationship head games or keep him on a leash.
He would not take this bar from her. Which meant she’d have to stay.
But she needed to see the only way out of the hole she had fallen into was to take his offered hand. Because anyone else would come in, take the bar, and kick her ass out the door.
And then she’d truly have nothing.
Instead, he wanted to give her something.
However, he needed something from her in return.
The first and most important thing so he could do that, would be for her to stop fighting him.
With the look she was now giving him and the way her body had gone soft against his, anybody not thinking clearly would think she was being compliant. Accepting. Resigned.
But Trip knew it was a trap.
Even so... Did he want her? Fuck yes.
Did he want to get his nuts knocked into next Tuesday? Fuck no.
She was cunning. But then, so was he. So, he recognized her tactic.
However, he did not appreciate it. Not at fucking all.
But two could play that goddamn game.
“Then go.” He released her and twisted his hips away to make sure his sac wasn’t in her strike zone. “Get your shit and get the fuck outta here. But let me say this. You walk away, don’t fuckin’ come back. You walk away, you give it all up. Gave you a chance to make somethin’ from nothin’ and you just fuckin’ shit on it.” He jerked his chin toward the rear exit of Crazy Pete’s. “So fuckin’ go.” He added fuel to the fire. “Had a year to get this place turned around, you failed. I’ll do it in a couple of months without you bein’ in the way.”
As he turned to walk away, to completely dismiss her, he heard her sharp intake of breath.
He braced.
The rush of booted feet, the howl of frustration, then the impact of her against his back. Fists pounded him, more of an annoyance than anything. But it wasn’t until she yanked his leather skull cap off his head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, just about ripping it out of his scalp, that he decided it was time to end this shit.
Time for him to get things straight with her.
Time to lay out the rules.
Because she was not leaving that bar, or even town, if he had anything to say about it.
He spun on his heel and brought a fist up to break her grip on his hair. And when he did, he clamped his hands on her wrists, trying to control her flailing arms. Her face was nothing but a twisted mask of pain, frustration and exhaustion.
He recognized it because he’d been there. He’d been in her shoes.
Somehow he needed to convince her that he wasn’t the bad guy. He wasn’t out to hurt her. Or take what little she was clinging to.
When her boot made contact with his shin, making him suck in a breath and then release it in a loud, “Fuck!” he... was... done.
Completely fucking done.
He jerked her around and shoved her against the back counter, bending her over, pinning her hands under her chest and holding her down. With one hand he grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to yank her head up. He dropped his next to hers. “You fuckin’ done?”
