I snorted, and he flashed me a smile. I remembered what Etta had said after the wedding—she didn’t think that Cash was Mr. Titty. But still, I had to ask. “Did you do it?”
“Do what, sweetheart?”
“Are you Mr. Titty?”
His smile widened. “Are you Nancy Drew?”
He was mocking me. Knowing that to show fear would give him the upper hand, I pretended to be shocked and said, “You read books?”
He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Gideon’s got his hands full with you, huh.”
“Unfortunately, no, he doesn’t,” I mumbled, and immediately regretted it when Cash’s brows jumped. He smiled at me, and I suddenly realized this man was charming. Like, very charming. Sure, he was gruff and a little scary, but he was handsome and had bucketfuls of charisma. He tilted his head toward the bar. “Buy you a drink?”
“Thank you, but no,” I said, then pointed at a camera on a pole that surveyed the parking lot. “This thing catch Mr. Titty in the act?”
“Maybe. But if I didn’t show the cops the footage, and I didn’t show your hubby either, what makes you think I’ll show you?”
“I’m asking really nicely?” I blinked at him, smiling.
Okay, yes, I was flirting a little. But if Gideon hadn’t gotten footage from this camera, maybe it could help him catch Mr. Titty. And also…I was enjoying myself. My husband was ignoring me, and by now I was pretty sure whatever spark had lit between us on our wedding night and at the Marswood Harbor Fair was destined to die. I wasn’t going to do anything with Cash Bridges—I wasn’t actuallyintohim, and I would never cheat on anyone, even if they clearly didn’t want me—but I really wasn’t in the mood to clean when the weather was so good, and I was pretty sure I’d figured out something important about Mr. Titty.
He rocked back on his heels, studying me. Then he shrugged as if to say,What the hell, why not?Tilting his head toward the building, he invited me inside.
I looked at the dark building and hesitated. Going into a biker bar didn’t seem like an impulse I should follow. Then again, it was ten o’clock on a Wednesday morning. How bad could it be?
The bar was as dive-y inside as it looked outside. It smelled like stale beer with an undertone of piss. Peanut shells littered the ground, and grizzled old men in motorcycle jackets sat along the bar. The back wall was dominated by a gigantic skull with flames coming out of its eyes and mouth. A few younger men clustered around a pool table, looking hungover and grumpy. Other than me, there were only two women inside: one standing behind the bar wearing a white tube top and short denim shorts, her bleached blond hair teased out past her shoulders, and the other an older woman wearing a motorcycle jacket of her own,sitting at a booth near the pool table with one of the younger men.
Every single person turned to look when I walked in with Cash. I was in over my head. Then again, I’d felt this way since I drove into town two weeks ago, and at least I was doing something productive.
Cash walked to the bar and leaned on the polished wood surface, angling his body toward one of the gray-haired, bearded men sipping a bottle of beer at the bar. I put a hand on the surface beside him, then gingerly took it back when I felt how disgustingly sticky it was.
“This little bird wants to see some footage from our camera outside,” Cash said to the man, whose dark eyes swung over to look at me. “Wants to see who tagged our wall outside.”
“That so,” the older man replied, less of a question and more of a statement.
I gave him a winning smile. “I’m working on a theory,” I explained.
“And why should we help you? You’re Gideon Mars’s woman, aren’t you? One of them mail-order brides?”
“More like email-order bride, amirite?”
He snorted, and the corners of his eyes crinkled even though his lips didn’t curl. “I think Etta’s out of her mind,” he said. “No way this whole thing works out.” He nodded his head at me, and I understood that “this whole thing” meant the arranged marriage scheme, of which I was lucky number one.
The old man turned away from me and tilted his bottle against his lips. Cash gestured to the bartender, who put two bottles of beer down on the bar top. Cash slid one over to me. The younger men at the pool table had drifted closer, and Iglanced over my shoulder to see the three of them watching me. I felt like a piece of meat, and I was starting to think I shouldn’t have come inside this place at all.
Cash shifted his body slightly and made a subtle hand gesture, and the men stopped advancing. He sipped his beer and watched me, all dark eyes and danger. With one arm leaning against the bar, he looked like a lion at rest. A smile creased his cheeks. Uh-oh.
“You ever been on a bike, sweetheart?”
“Like, a motorcycle?” I squeaked.
His smile widened. “Yes, babe. A motorcycle.”
I shook my head.
“You want to go for a ride? Feel the wind in that pretty dark hair of yours?” He reached over and touched a lock of my hair.
Before I could answer, the door banged open. I knew, by the shiver that went through me, who was standing on the threshold.
