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“Stel, we fucked one time.”
She grinned, those hovering tears long gone. “Once is all it takes sometimes. She’s got nowhere to land. Maybe we need to convince her to stay in Manning Grove.” Stella leaned over the bar again. “Maybe you need to convince her.”
“Not lookin’ for an ol’ lady.” He tried to make that sound believable but by the look Stella shot him, she wasn’t buying it.
“Yeah, well, neither was Sig. Look at him now.”
“Ain’t Sig.”
“Thank fuck for that. One Sig is enough. Anyway, I’m asking you to stay sitting in the seat to Trip’s left. I feel better knowing it’s you. Give it a year. If you want out then? I’ll encourage Trip to take it to the table for a vote.”
“You’re only supposed to be an ol’ lady, Stella.”
Her grin widened. “Times have changed, Judge. This isn’t the Originals’ club anymore. And it’s a good thing it’s not. Let’s keep it that way.”
That Judge could agree on. “Make you a fuckin’ deal. I stay sittin’ at the table for now. I fuck up again, I’m rippin’ this patch right the fuck off my chest and handin’ it over to someone better.”
“Like Trip said, no one’s better than you. And you’re not going to fuck up. You know why?”
This should be good. “Why?”
“Because even though Trip wants this club to remain legit—and I agree—what happened on that mountain opened our eyes. If we need to get our hands dirty to protect what’s ours, to protect our family, then that’s what we’re going to do. No regrets. We just need to do it smart.”
“Stel...”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a goddamn badass bitch, know that?”
She smiled. “My father was Crazy Pete. It’s in the genes.”
“Trip couldn’t find anyone more perfect for him than you.”
She threw her arms up. “I fucking told him that when we were kids. He just didn’t listen!”
Judge snorted, dropped his head and shook it. “Yeah, he was a dumb fuck back then. We all were.”
“Yes, we were. We lived and learned. And that’s why that damn patch is staying on your cut.” She slapped her hand on the bar top. “Now, I’m done with this foolishness of you stepping down as the enforcer and I’m getting you a fresh beer.”
“Don’t bother. Got somewhere to be.”
“Does it have to do with a blonde?”
Judge pushed to his feet, dug a ten out of his chain wallet and threw it on the bar.
“Don’t want your money, Judge. We’re doing okay now, and the club owns half the bar. No reason to pay.”
“Then sneak it into Cassie’s tips next time she’s workin’.”
Stella snagged the ten spot and snapped it between her fingers. “You got it. Tell her I said hi.”
Judge pressed his lips together, shook his head and headed out.
Chapter Thirteen
As Judge parked the Expedition at the curb, Cassie dropped the living room curtain where she’d been peeking out and pressed her back to the wall.
Her heart thumped so hard, she was afraid he’d be able to see it trying to escape her chest. She pressed her fingers to her mouth and realized they were shaking, too.
What the hell was wrong with her?
How could this man make her react like this? She hardly knew him. Okay, maybe not hardly... She did end up getting naked with him.
His face—and that beard—had ended up between her thighs...
Maybe they knew each other a little better than she wanted to admit.
But still...
She hardly knew who he was. Besides being a biker and a bounty hunter or bondsman or whatever he called himself.
A light tap on the door had her pounding heart doing a somersault.
She needed to keep herself together. She couldn’t let him see how he affected her.
She cleared her throat and nervously tugged her baggy sweatshirt down to make sure her tummy pooch was covered. It was stupid because he’d already seen her without clothes, but it was also habit. One she wasn’t sure she’d ever break.
She moved to the door and, with her hand clutching the knob, blew out a deep breath before opening it. When she did, her eyes immediately landed on his broad chest, covered in a snug dark blue thermal with a white T-shirt peeking out at the collar and his black leather cut.
She slowly raised her gaze, sliding it over his too-long beard, those lips that had made her lose her mind and his strong, straight nose until she met his green eyes.
Unreadable. That was what they were.
“How tall are you?” she managed to get past her tight throat. Because, of course, that was how you answered a door, right?
Dumb.
His lips twitched. “Six-three. How tall are you?”
“Not six-three.” Not even close.
“I’m thirty-seven and weigh about two-forty. Now... You gonna let me in? Or you need to know my boot size, too?”
She stepped back and he pushed past her. But before she could close the door, he had it done for her and she was pinned against it with that six-foot-three, two-forty body and his hands cupping her jaw and tilting up her face.
