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“Problem?” I hand the tequila to her, this one with half the booze, soda water, and lime. What can I say? The girl’s a lightweight.
The guy takes one look at me as I hook an arm around her shoulders and shakes his head. “Nope, not at all.”
He turns and runs.
And Nadia gives me a stern look. “You’re a bad man.” Then she grins.
It’s a punch, hard, to the guts.
Fuck, I’ve missed her.
* * *
Outside the bar, she traces the handlebars of my bike with a finger, and I fight the urge to release her hair.
I never understood it, why she mostly wears her hair pulled back. Sure, there are definite pluses to it for a guy. It shows the angles of her face, the high cheekbones, and it’s practical but oh yeah, give me it loose so I can thread my fingers through it, so I can—
“Are there any gang bars in town?”
It takes her a little while to answer, and I can’t shake the feeling I’ve somehow disappointed her. “Gang bars? Is that why we came?”
“I want to say yes, so much less complicated that way. But I came because I wanted to check it out for where it is, and because I fuckin’ wanted to.” I thread my fingers through the soft, heavy silk of her hair. “Memories are a bitch.”
“I’m kind of insulted by that.”
“You shouldn’t be.” I sigh and let go of her hair.
She shifts a little closer to me, her hand resting on the saddle, and tilts her chin up to me. “So, we’re leaving because I’m way too alluring to stay in there with?”
I almost laugh at her flirt game, not because it’s pathetic, but because the sweetness has no place with a man like me.
It turns me on when I’ve no right to be. When I’ll be leaving. I put a hand on the saddle near hers and the other on a handle grip. Boxing her in.
“You’ll get burned, playing with fire. I left because there were too many locals. I’m still not overly fond of them.”
Nadie nods. “But now, you want to take me to gang bars.”
“No. I asked if there were any where gangs were known to use as their local. And I meant I’d be going alone if I check them out.”
“No new bars recently. This is a biggish deal because someone from out of town bought it . . .” she trails off. “But you knew that part.”
Fuck, Nadia’s always been too smart for her own good.
“I know of him. Operates out of Dallas. Irish. You know him?”
“Nope. And I have no idea where the gangs hang out. Jay’s too young to go . . .”
Nadia grows quiet as she studies my face.
“C’mon. You’re not that naive.”
She jerks back, hitting the bike, but I don’t move from where I am, where I’ve trapped her.
“I’m not. I’m sure he’s been drinking, but I don’t know of anything.”
“Then areas where either gangs are known to have places, or areas, pockets of town miraculously crime free.”
She sucks in a breath. “I don’t know. If you go on that, where I am is a hotbed of gang activity.”
