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Little Man, the prospect who’s bartending tonight, is standing behind the counter, a grin on his face.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
His expression sobers, and he shakes his head. “Nothin’, Dip.”
“Clearly, it’s something. Spit it out, prospect.”
“Can I get you another beer?” he asks, and I shake my head with a glare. Little Man heaves a sigh. “Minnie is entertaining, is all.”
I snort. “That’s what she’s here for.”
“But you turned her away.”
“I did.”
“Couldn’t help but notice you turned away all the club whores tonight,” he comments.
“What’s it to ya?”
Little Man shrugs. “Just an observation.”
“Observe less,” I bark before storming out of the clubhouse.
As I walk across the compound, toward my cabin, I mull over Little Man’s words. He’s right about me dismissing every attempt made to flirt or get in my pants, but I’m just not feeling it… orthem.
Maybe I’m just tired.
Yeah, tired of the same old, same old.
When I reach my place, I climb on my Harley rather than head inside. It’s only ten, and the night is young. I might not be in the mood for club whores, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in the mood for anything.
The ride into the city does little to clear my rapidly souring mood. I should turn around and go home, but all I’ll find there is an empty cabin and deafening silence.
I ride past the shelter Satan’s Legacy provides protection for, the place where Snow met his ol’ lady, Sami, and spot Brady’s bike parked by the curb. He’s on guard duty tonight and for a moment, I debate on stopping and taking his place, but I decide against it.
Continuing down the street, I take the next right and ride around downtown for what feels like forever before parking in front of a dive bar I’ve never been to before. Despite never coming here before, I’m familiar with Barlow’s Bar, as I am with pretty much everything in the city. As the Road Captain, it’s my job to plan routes and runs, and knowing as much as I can about streets, businesses, and potential roadblocks comes with the territory.
There aren’t many vehicles on the street, but the music and chatter drifting from the open door tell me that the place is busy. It’s Friday night so that’s not surprising.
After stepping inside, I’m immediately hit with the haze of cigarette smoke and the smell of weed. There are two pool tables off to the left, and the bar takes up the entire wall on the right. The place is small and crowded, and just what I need.
I make my way through the small groups of customers and when I reach the bar, I lift my hand to get the bartender’s attention.
“What can I get ya?” she asks after handing several bottles to another individual.
The woman is tall, taller than I prefer, but she’s got a set of tits on her that I could bury my face in, and a body made for sin.
“Let’s start with your number and follow that up with what time you get off,” I drawl, leaning my elbows on the bar top in an effort to get closer to her.
She lifts her hand and wiggles her ring finger so I can’t miss the sparkling diamond. “Pretty sure my husband wouldn’t approve.”
I chuckle. “Noted. And sorry about that.”
I like to flirt as much as the next guy, but I don't fuck with married women. I don’t give a shit how tempting they are.
“No need to apologize. I’m used to it.” She smiles. “Now, what can I get ya to drink?”
“Whatever ya got on tap is fine.”
