Chapter One
Amelia
The early December wind isn’t that cold, but still makes me shiver as I stare at the sign above the door of the bar. Odin’s. For a crazy second, I nearly run back to my car and get the hell out of here, but it’s like I’m frozen on the sidewalk.
When I was offered this bartender job the other day, it all seemed so easy. But it hadn’t been nine at night then, and now, in the dull glow from the streetlights, the bar’s giving off a sinister vibe.
Right. Sometimes having a vivid imagination sucks. There’s only one reason I’m here. My dad’s face fills my mind, and even though he’s been dead for ten years, my throat closes and there’s a familiar crushing sensation in the middle of my chest.
Not now, Amy.I drag in a deep breath and force the memory to the back of my mind. I can’t meet the owner of Odin’s with red eyes. I’m supposed to make him trust me, or at the very least think I’m so dumb that it doesn’t matter what anyone says in my hearing.
That shouldn’t be hard. Guys always take one look at me and think I’m dumb as shit until I put them straight. Not this time, though. This time I’ll take it, if it helps me bring down the bastards who were behind the murder of my dad.
For about the hundredth time since Rex got in contact with me a week ago to tell me about this job, I remind myself this is a once in a lifetime chance for payback. I’m not going to screw it up.
I push open the door and step inside. It’s packed with guys showing muscles and tats, but they don’t faze me. Until I was thirteen, I grew up surrounded by tough bikers, and I always thought they were part of my extended family.
Yeah, some family the Silver Wolves turned out to be. I paste on a bored pout and saunter over to the bar where Tod, the guy who interviewed my boobs the other day, is grinning like a thirsty dog.
Asshole. Sure, I’d worn a low-cut top deliberately, but he might’ve at least made the effort to look in my eyes when he was asking me questions.
Whatever. It obviously worked, since here I am.
“Hey,” he says, his gaze running over me. Disappointment flashes across his face when I don’t whip open my short leather jacket and give him another eyeful of my cleavage. Not likely. That ploy served its purpose as far as Tod’s concerned. He ushers me behind the bar, and I ignore the suggestive comments and leers directed my way by some of the guys.
They can look. They can even flirt if they like, but there’ll be no touching if they want to keep their mating tackle intact.
Tod shows me where I can stash my purse in a small room behind the bar, and tries to help me off with my jacket. I give him a sweet smile and shrug out of it myself, and he doesn’t seem to care that my shirt buttons all the way up to my throat.
“When do I meet the boss, then?” I throw another smile Tod’s way, and he smirks as though he thinks he’s getting some tonight. With luck, Gage Reynolds will be just as easy to wrap around my pinkie. He and Todarecousins, after all, so I’m hopingdouchebagruns in the family.
“He’ll be down in a while.” Tod squeezes by me, managing to cop a full body rub, and the only reason I don’t stab the heel of my boot through his toes is because I can’t afford to be fired before I’ve even started. “Lemme give you a lesson on how to handle the pumps.”
“No need. I told you I’m experienced.” True enough. My impressive list of part-time jobs since leaving school mainly consists of waitressing by day and bartending at night, with the occasional detour into fast food outlets. Casual shift work suits me just fine. I don’t want to get tied down in a nine-to-five job when myrealcareer plans, which don’t involve working for anyone else, might blossom at any moment.
“I’ll bet you are.” Tod leans in close, clearly thinking his innuendos are the smartest thingsever. I take a mental breath, count to ten, and remember why I’m doing this.
For you, Dad.
…
Gage
I drag my fingers through my hair and glower at the paperwork covering the small dining table. Even after five years of owning Odin’s, keeping the books up to date drives me nuts. Somehow I thought that side of things just took care of itself, until Granddad died and left me his pride and joy, which included this apartment upstairs.
Running the bar had never crossed my mind before then. I always thought I’d end up helping my older brother, Zach, in his garage. Not that I’m complaining. It’s cool having my own business.
Except for the fucking paperwork.
I glance at my watch and frown. Guess I should go downstairs and meet the new girl Tod hired the other day. He usually clears stuff like that with me first, but apparently this girl’s tits were irresistible, even though he knows about my no-screwing-the-staff rule. Don’t want any of that shit on my doorstep.
The bar downstairs is packed with the usual Friday night regulars, and I lean against the frame of the door that leads into the back room, where the guys are playing pool, and I survey my turf. Tod and my sister Kat are working the bar. There’s no sign of Amelia Davis. Has she packed it in already?
“Hey, Gage.” The breathy voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I give the blonde who’s clutching my arm a cursory glance. Can’t remember her name, but she gives great head. “You okay?” Her hand slides down my torso and rubs across my groin.
I push her hand onto my thigh. It pisses me off when chicks grab my junk without invitation. She doesn’t take the hint.
“You work too hard,” she purrs, going up onto her toes and rubbing herself over me. “Haven’t seen you all week. I know just what you need to unwind.”
