Page 50 of Wade’s Wrath

Wade leaned closer. “Because now he knows where the line is.”

“What line?” she asked.

His gaze held hers. “You.” Her breath caught and Wade straightened. “Anybody who wants to get to you, they cross us first.” She knew that the us that he was referring to was the Savage Bastards. Harlow wasn't sure when she'd stopped feeling like a stranger among them. Maybe she hadn't. But as Earl raised his beer again and one of the prospects said that she poured better drinks than Wade, something warm settled inside her chest. She looked around Wade's Watering Hole. She had a new job, and her first real paycheck would come from this place. It wasn't much, but it was hers.

She looked at Wade and realized that he was watching her again. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. His mouth curved. “Get back to work.”

She gasped. “You're actually going to make me work after that traumatic encounter?”

“Yep,” he said.

“Terrible boss,” she griped, making him chuckle.

Harlow picked up the whiskey bottle, and Wade nodded toward the shot glass. “One ounce.”

“I know,” she said.

“Prove it.” She deliberately poured too much, and Wade stared at the glass and then back at her.

Harlow smiled sweetly. “Oops.”

“You're paying for that,” he insisted.

“Take it out of my paycheck.” His eyes narrowed, and she laughed. As Wade started complaining about profit margins, Harlow realized she'd meant what she'd told her father's man. She wasn't going home. For the first time in her life, she was already exactly where she'd chosen to be.

WADE

Wade had a problem. A five-foot-something blonde problem currently standing behind his bar, arguing with Earl about whether he needed another whiskey. “You've had enough.”

Earl looked personally offended. “I've been drinking here longer than you've been working here.”

“I've been working here for one day,” she reminded.

“Exactly,” Earl slurred.

Harlow crossed her arms. “No, you’re done.”

Earl looked at Wade for help, and Wade lifted both hands. “Don't drag me into this.”

“You own the damn place,” Earl reminded.

“Yeah, and she's mean,” Wade insisted. Harlow shot him a look, and Earl grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” she asked Earl.

“Nothing,” Earl slurred.

“That's what I thought,” Harlow said. Wade bit back a laugh. Jesus Christ. She'd been working at Wade's Watering Hole for less than four hours and had already cut Earl off, reorganized the register, complained about his bookkeeping, and informed Mitch that his food invoices were a disaster. She was taking over, and Wade fucking loved it—that was the problem.

He stood at the opposite end of the bar pretending to wipe down a glass while watching her move around his place like she'd been there for years. Jeans hugged her ass and her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. She'd bought a couple of cheap T-shirts at the store earlier, and the black one she wore now fit her far better than the oversized Savage Bastards shirt she'd slept in—unfortunately, because Wade had preferred the shirt, mostly because he'd spent half the morning wondering what she was wearing beneath it.

He looked away. Nope. Not going there. He'd told her he wasn't touching her while her life was falling apart, and he meant it, even if she had looked at him outside the clubhouse like she wanted him to kiss her. Even if he'd spent the rest of the fucking day thinking about doing exactly that.

His phone vibrated, and Butcher’s name appeared on the screen. Wade checked the message.

BUTCHER: Need you at the clubhouse. Now. Bring Harlow.