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Stella glanced from Trip to Judge and back. “What business are you talking about and by saying ‘your woman’ I assume you mean Cassie? And if so, does that mean I might be losing her?”

“Was only just temporary, Stel,” Judge said. “She told you that. Woman’s got a fuckin’ degree she’s not usin’ right now. Needs more than tips.”

“She knows how to work the crowd, Judge. She makes good money in tips.”

“But don’t want her closin’ the bar late at night. Don’t really want her workin’ the bar at all.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“’Cause I don’t.”

“Not your call,” she reminded him.

“Not yet. But will be.” He grimaced that he let that slip.

“Does she know that?” Stella asked with a deep frown.

Judge flattened his lips and stared at the flames.

“Does she know what you’re planning?” Stella prodded. “Just a word of advice, women like Cassie don’t like a man stepping in and making life decisions for her.” She turned her face toward Trip. “Right?”

Trip put his beer bottle to his lips and kept quiet. Smart fucking man.

“Right,” she answered her own question.

“Just workin’ on givin’ her options,” Judge said.

“Sounds like your putting your boot down about her working at Pete’s. That’s what it sounded like to me. She can handle herself just fine. She knows how to handle the men getting out of line.”

Judge’s spine snapped straight. “Assholes are gettin’ outta line with her?”

“It’s a bar, Judge. With booze,” Stella reminded him like he was Daisy’s age.

“Just proved my point, Stel. I see someone gettin’ handsy with her, gonna break some fuckin’ fingers.”

Stella smiled and whispered, “Damn. You got it bad.”

Trip finally spoke up. “Yeah, he does. Can see Cassie bein’ claimed at the table soon.”

“No claimin’ ‘til she scrapes off that fuckin’ ex of hers.”

“Lemme go find a fuckin’ chisel,” Trip said. “Like her. Think she’s a good woman and would make a good ol’ lady.”

“Weeeellll, big guy,” Stella started, leaning over and patting Judge’s thigh. “First she’d have to decide to stay in Manning Grove. Then she’d need to decide if she wants to be with you. Then she’d need to decide whether she’d want to be an ol’ lady. See how I said, ‘she would need to decide,’ and not ‘you?’ You can’t force her to do anything. Being an ol’ lady takes a special type of woman.” She shot Judge a smile. “But I agree with my ol’ man. She’d make a great ol’ lady. Woman’s got a spine and the right attitude. And bonus, she’d keep you in your place.”

“Ain’t lookin’ for a woman to keep me in my fuckin’ place,” he grumbled.

Trip snorted. “With her, that’s what you’re gonna get.”

Stella laughed. “It’s not as bad as you think. Right, Trip?”

Again, Trip tipped his almost empty beer bottle to his lips to avoid answering.

“Anyway, it would be nice to have another sister. But let it be her choice, please. Speaking of sisters, I’m going to go talk to Autumn and save her from Lizzy, who is talking her damn ear off. Give me a kiss, baby, while you’re sober since I have a feeling you’ll be passed out cold later.” After a thorough kiss, she climbed out of Trip’s lap and grabbed his empty. “Want another beer?”

“I’ll get it.”

Stella nodded and headed back over to the bar. They both watched her go.

“There’s a joke in there somewhere... A redhead, a blonde and a black and blue haired woman walk into a bar...” Trip laughed.

“Those women ain’t a joke, though.”

Trip sighed. “No, they ain’t.” He turned and studied Judge for a moment. “Once you claim Cass, we’ll discuss that other shit, but not ‘til then. Don’t wanna make plans that might not pan out.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s only been in town a few weeks. Give her a chance to settle in. Her sister’s here and if you keep giving her good dick, you might convince her to stay.”

“Ain’t good. It’s fuckin’ great. Tongue, too.”

Trip laughed again. “Take your word for it. Now, gonna go have a shot with our newest brother and get shit-faced. You comin’?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Chapter Eighteen

Cassie stepped through the front door of what Judge had called “The Barn.” It truly was a two-story barn that looked like it had been restored into a ski lodge or a rustic country bar.

Besides the inside looking cool, it was unexpected.

The circular stone see-through fireplace sitting in the center of the room caught her eye first. The interior walls were rough wood boards just like the outside. The floors made of wide, worn planks. Various motorcycle items and signs decorated the walls. And the Eagles’ song Take It Easy filled her ears.

Like at Crazy Pete’s, the crack of pool balls could be heard above the music. But out of the two tables only one had a couple of men, both wearing cuts, playing a game of pool. She didn’t recognize either of them.

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