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“Nothing like that. We just don’t want to scare her off. We promised to give her space, time to think about us and what we want. You’ll have to admit that this kind of decision is a bit out of line with that promise. She’d be right if she got pissed at us, even if we mean well.”
“I like you. For fucking bikers, you ain’t half bad. Not sure I’m understanding right, that you both plan to get her attention, but who am I to judge if it makes her happy? Not sure a sorry pair like you will do that, but she could do worse.”
“We’ll take that as a compliment.” Max grinned.
Rafe said, “Now tell me something, Sam. What do you have against bikers? Really, I mean.”
He smiled. “They’re clannish. They hang out in their own bars and don’t spend enough money in my place.”
The honesty made Rafe laugh, and it even drew a quick chuckle from Max. “So, if I get some of the guys coming in here often, overpaying for your drinks, you could have a change of heart?”
“Naturally. I can respect anyone who buys their booze in my place.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m guessing you got some thirsty friends.”
Max nodded. “You could say that.”
He smiled broadly. “Then they’re all very welcome in my establishment.”
Simone stoodat the bar while she waited for them to come back in from dealing with the inert Brad. The three walked in deep in discussion and didn’t say anything to her, and she was thankful. She couldn’t afford to lose her job, and despite Sam’s assurances about it being okay if she decked the guy, she had her doubts. People often didn’t mean what they said.
She grabbed her water and went to a table. Fortunately, things were slow. No one who’d been in the bar during the attack seemed willing to bother her. They wouldn’t say what they thought.
That was her concern about Rafe and Max, too. For days they’d been telling her they liked her, but she didn’t know what that meant to them. They were attracted to her and would likely want to bed her—and what red-blooded woman couldn’t get hot at that idea—but if she was going to get serious about a man, well, she wanted a serious relationship, not just a fling. And with two guys? That seemed unrealistic. Under other circumstances, spending a night with a couple of bikers would satisfy her personal fantasy of being the center of attention for two guys at the same time, but she had to consider Gemma.
And she was scared. She’d been scared. It was okay to admit that. She’d been fucking terrified by Brad’s anger, not the man so much but that evil emotion. He stank of hate. And what had stirred such intense emotion? She’d stopped him this time, but she couldn’t live keeping her guard up all the time. If the other side was patient, or simply powerful… well, time took its toll on vigilance.
She sipped the cool beverage and waited. She needed to ease the knot in her stomach and slow her heartrate, but neither of those things seemed to be happening.
Fear had its talons in her, and she had to get them out. She was afraid, and that sucked.
The men were ending their hushed conversation. Sam got up and went back to work behind the bar, flashing his practiced smile, while Rafe and Max ambled over to her table.
“Are you okay?” asked Max.
“I’m not sure yet. If I went to the ER, they’d probably book a room for my emotions, but other than that...”
“At least he didn’t total your sense of humor,” said Rafe, who always seemed to appreciate humor.
“What did you do with him?”
Rafe looked at her face. “I’m sorry to report that all we did was put him in his car.”
Max cracked his knuckles and glowered at the parking lot.
She scowled, letting him know she’d hoped for something more drastic. “Do you think he’ll leave me alone now?”
Rafe took her hand. It amazed her to find his touch so comforting—better than Sam’s cheap whisky. When Max took her other hand, she blinked as the sensation doubled. It was a warm, caring feeling, and not anything to do with desire… well, not much.
“Sorry, but no I don’t,” said Rafe. “I think he’ll add you frustrating his plans to his list of imagined grievances against you and try to find a way to avenge himself.”
“He seems the type to nurse a grudge,” said Max.
Once again it surprised her how closely their thoughts mirrored her own. She wouldn’t tell them that, but one other thing needed saying. “Thanks for not lying to me.”
“You need to know the truth—or our best guess of what the truth is. You need to take steps to protect yourself.” Rafe seemed concerned.
