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  I laughed and reached for the shot closest to me. “It’s okay, Hatchet. I know what you meant.”

  “Good.” Hatchet passed out the remaining shots then lifted his own. “To Stitch. The best damn biker—”

  “And father,” I tossed in.

  “And father this town has ever seen. You are missed, buddy. Every damn day.”

  “To Stitch,” the entire bar around us echoed.

  My eyes burned with unshed tears before I even downed my shot. I gulped the fiery liquor so I had an excuse, then surreptitiously wiped at my eyes.

  “Did I ever tell you about the Giants game Stitch and I went to a few years back?” Tank asked after he’d slammed his empty shot glass down on the bar. “They actually have a little jail in the stadium, because your dad wouldn’t get rid of his—”

  “Switchblade,” I finished for him.

  “He told you that one, huh?” Tank grinned.

  “Nope. He did the same thing when we went to a theme park in California when I was little. Although that time my mom pitched the biggest fit you’d ever seen and made him go back and leave his knife in the glove box of his pickup. I think we went on three rides before he showed up again.”

  “Probably found a bar to take the edge off first.” Tank laughed. “Those parks give me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “That sounds like something Stitch would say.” Hatchet laughed.

  “He was a great guy,” Bam rumbled next to me. “Did he ever tell you about the time he showed up at the hospital when my grandma was having surgery?”

  I shook my head.

  Bam ducked his head and ran a hand through his hair, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “It was a shit time. She’d just been diagnosed, and I was driving back and forth from Tahoe to here, apprenticing at the union, and prospecting at the club, and pretty much fucking it all up. I hadn’t told any of the guys what was going on, but somehow Stitch found out. Both him and Maverick walked into the waiting room of the hospital and sat next to me. They didn’t say shit about my grandma or why I was there; they just started shooting the shit like we were here having a beer, and kept my mind off my grandma. I never got a chance to thank him. A week later, he was…” Bam trailed off and cleared his throat. “Anyway, it was nice of him. That’s the kinda guy your dad was. You were lucky to have him.”

  My eyes sheened with tears, I smiled at Bam. “I really was. Thank you.”

  Bam smiled back at me, and I felt a heavy sensation in my chest. We stayed there for a second and just stared into each other’s eyes until Tank slapped Bam on the back, breaking our spell.

  “He was an awesome guy. Did I tell you about the time back when I was a prospect and Stitch…” Tank droned on, but I wasn’t listening. I couldn’t look away from the sheen in Bam’s eyes even as he tilted his head and downed half of his beer in a few gulps.

  I was seeing Bam in a whole new light. He wasn’t just a loudmouthed biker who had to get his way, or one who put club business before everything. He’d taken care of his grandma while she was sick. And was taking care of me now. He cared, and was a pretty fantastic guy himself.

  I wanted to think that there was more between us than club duty, but I was afraid I might be projecting. Did Bam feel the same way as I did? Did he want me, too? Or was I just a job to him? I couldn’t forget how I’d felt when I’d bared my feelings to my high school crush, and he’d just shrugged and walked away. I didn’t want to put myself in that situation again. It’d been painful and embarrassing and just soul-crushing.

  So, I didn’t say anything.

  The rest of the night I laughed with Tank and the guys. We drank shots of tequila and whiskey and told stories about my dad. We played pool and hung out, and it felt right. It felt like home.

  And I tried not to let my heart shine in my eyes when I looked at Bam.

  Because in the back of my mind, the secret that I was keeping from the guys burned a hole in my soul. I knew somehow, someway it was going to come back and bite me on the ass. But not tonight.

  Tonight I was one of the guys, and I enjoyed every minute.

  Chapter 8

  Bam

  I pulled up to Amber’s house and let my bike idle for a second. When Amber didn’t bound through the front door as she usually did, I killed the engine, put the kickstand down, then swung off my bike. Amber was almost always waiting for me on her front step, or out of the house seconds after I pulled up. Something wasn’t right. I pulled my helmet off and left it on the seat, then went to her front door.

  I pounded on the door and tried to get a glimpse of the inside through the curtains, but couldn’t see shit. I was debating whether to force my way in when the door swung open. Amber stood in the doorway and gave me an apologetic look.

  “I am so sorry. My mom’s gone all happy homemaker on me and made me eat lunch before my shift so I’m running late. I’ll just be two seconds.” She ran off before I could say anything.

  I stood there on her front step like a tool. Do I go inside? Should I go back to my bike? Shaking my head at my sudden teenage angst, I reached forward to close the door when Amber popped back into the living room and took my breath away. Before, she’d been wearing a loose tee and sweatpants. Now she had on skintight jeans and a sparkly top that clung to her body and let me know just what she had going on underneath. Christ, she was hot. Suddenly I had the urge to palm her breasts and feel the bite of those sequins against her soft chest. I wanted to know what she had on underneath it. I wanted to taste what was underneath that.

  While I was busy trying not to swallow my tongue, Amber grabbed a few things next to the door as she shouted, “Bye Mom! My ride’s here!”

  “ ’Kay, honey! Have a good shift!” Brittany shouted back from somewhere inside the house.

  Meanwhile I was still standing in the doorway with my mouth open. Amber shot me a strange look, so I spun around and stomped off to my motorcycle without waiting for her. I grabbed my helmet and shoved it onto my head—like it would somehow shield me from my sudden dirty thoughts about her. I zipped open my saddlebag and grabbed my spare helmet. Without looking Amber’s way, I shoved the helmet in her direction, then got on my bike. I knew I was acting like a moody fuck, but I really wasn’t happy with the turn my thoughts had taken. So, like a man, I was taking my frustration out by ignoring her. I could feel Amber’s confused gaze on me, but I fiddled with my keychain and ignored her probing eyes. A beat after Amber swung on behind me, I revved the engine and peeled out of her driveway.

  Not that my current situation was any better. Instead of staring at Amber’s tight body, I was now feeling it pressed against my back. When I took a corner too fast, her arms tightened around me and her body pressed even closer to mine. It was torture. I tried to shift and get my hardening cock under control, but I couldn’t move much. And every time I moved, Amber shifted with me, reminding me of her tight body and those gorgeous sparkling breasts. Son of a bitch. I couldn’t decide whether this was the trip that wouldn’t end or the one I didn’t want to end.

  Finally, I roared up the parking garage ramp and slowly wound my way to the fourth floor. It was more a force of habit that had me going to the same floor Amber always parked on. We’d decided after the flowers incident that it would be easier for us to just cart her around instead of shadowing her ancient car. This way Ruslan wouldn’t have additional access to her, and we would always have her with us. I’d been prepared for Amber to pitch a fit when I told her, but she’d accepted the change in her guard duty with no fuss. She’d just smiled slightly and said, “Okay.”

  I pulled my bike up to a spot near the stairwell and killed the engine. Waiting for Amber to get off, I willed my body to behave. I really didn’t want her giving me shit because I had a boner.

  “What’s got your panties in a wad?” Amber asked after she got off my bike and pulled her helmet off.

  I
took off my helmet and lifted a shoulder. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Amber’s forehead wrinkled as she gave me dubious look. But after a beat she handed me her helmet and then silently led us down the four flights of stairs. When we reached the ground level without a word spoken between us, Amber folded her arms across her chest and squared up to me. “Really. What’s going on? Has Ruslan…done something you’re pissed about?”

  “No. Nothing’s going on. Come on, let’s get you to the locker room.”

  “Have I pissed you off?”

  “What? No, you’re fine. Come on, let’s go.” Not waiting for her, I took off toward the employee entrance and after a beat, Amber followed.

  I know I was being a moody douche, but I couldn’t get the image of Amber wearing that sparkly top and nothing else out of my head. She was undeniably gorgeous—I’d thought it when I first saw her two years ago—and if anything she’d only gotten more gorgeous. It didn’t help that I was practically spending all my free time with her. Watching her prance around in that so-called uniform, listening to her talk so kindly with every customer, seeing her go out of her way to do whatever she can for the people around her.

  Fuck. I had to stop thinking about her like that. This was a job. She was Stitch’s daughter, a MC princess, and way too naïve for a bastard like me.

  That state of mind was easier said than done, though. As I sat at the bar and watched Amber prance around in that damn excuse for a uniform, my rage bubbled to the surface every time a guy would get near her. I watched Amber with the intensity of a lion eyeing its prey. I wanted to pounce on her like one, too, but I couldn’t. This was a job.

  She came up to the bar and I watched, spellbound, as her breasts jiggled as she set her tray down. “One Jack and Coke, a tequila sunrise, and two Buds.”

  She cleared her throat, and I jerked my gaze up from her chest to find her staring back at me with a disgruntled frown. “What is your deal tonight?”

  “Nothing. What’s your deal?” I replied like a pissed-off teenager.

  Amber just rolled her eyes and cocked a hip as she waited for the bartender to fill her order.

  I heaved a sigh. I knew I should apologize for being such a surly asshole, but I was damned if I could come up with a plausible excuse for how I was acting. I sure as shit couldn’t tell her that I wanted her and it was pissing me off. So instead I said nothing, just glowered in her direction as she took off with her loaded tray of drinks.

  Amber ignored me and smiled charmingly at her customers. She had delivered her last drink—the Jack and Coke—and was reaching for the tip when it happened. The guy jerked the bill out of her reach, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her onto his lap. I was off my bar stool and across the casino floor in seconds.

  “No. Let go of me,” Amber bit out.

  I grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the asshole’s lap. Amber teetered unsteadily on her heels next to me. I didn’t even think about it: I hauled back and punched him on the jaw with all my strength.

  “You don’t ever put your fucking hands on her! Do you fucking hear me?” I cocked back to punch him again when Amber put her hand on my arm.

  “Bam! No!”

  “No? He had his fucking hands on you. Are you telling me you wanted to be on this asshole’s lap?” I gestured to the frat boy punk who was currently cowering in front of me.

  “Of course not. Don’t be a moron. But you need to get your shit under control. Security is gonna be here any second.”

  Sure enough, two burly guys in security uniforms hustled their way toward us. I shook my head. I knew it was my reaction to the situation that had them all running this way. They didn’t give a shit about what had happened to Amber. And they proved it when the first one opened his mouth.

  “We got a problem here, gentlemen?” Thing 1 asked when they reached us.

  “Fuck yeah, we do,” Frat boy prick wailed. “That asshole punched me. I want to press charges.”

  “Fine by me.” I crossed my arms over my chest to keep me from punching him in the face again. “Amber here will press charges for harassment, because she sure as shit didn’t want you touching her.”

  Frat boy prick’s lip curled. “That’s bullshit. She was begging for it, prancing around in that skirt, smiling at me, and asking me what I wanted all breathless.”

  “Because that’s my job, asshole.” Amber’s brow wrinkled. “I’m a cocktail waitress, not a hooker.”

  “My bad.” Frat boy prick laughed, holding up his hands. “But you could see where I got confused. I mean, this is Nevada, after all, right?”

  “Prostitution isn’t legal in Washoe County, sir,” Thing 1 replied. “Would you please come with us?”

  It apparently wasn’t a request as he grabbed Frat boy prick’s arm and hoisted him out of his seat. Thing 1 “escorted” Frat boy prick across the casino floor as Thing 2 held back.

  “You okay, Amber? Do you want to press charges against him?”

  “No. I just want to get back to work.” Amber crossed her arms over her chest and hugged her elbows.

  “You know that’s not how we handle situations like this. You gotta go back and talk to someone in HR, then fill out some paperwork. It might be best if your, er, friend came with you.”

  Amber nodded tightly then fell in line as Thing 2 led the way to the back offices. Every bit of her body language said “leave me alone.”

  But I couldn’t.

  I put my hand on her shoulder and didn’t let her shrug me off. Instead, I grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop next to me. Thing 2 stopped as well but hovered respectfully out of hearing distance.

  I dropped her hand and shoved mine in my pockets. “I’m not going to apologize for defending you.”

  “Well, you should. I could’ve handled it. I’ve spent months here handling assholes like him and no one ever got hurt.”

  I shrugged. “He deserved it. And that’s what I’m here for.”

  “No. You’re here because I was stupid and got some Mafia asshole interested in me. You’re here to keep Ruslan and his goons away from me. You’re not here to protect me from my life. What happened to the whole I’m-a-shadow-you’ll-never-know-I’m-here routine?”

  “It went out the window when that prick put his hands on you. He needed to be taught a lesson. No one disrespects True Brothers property.”

  “Well, congratulations. This True Brothers property probably just lost her job.” Amber looked at me with such disgust that I flinched.

  “Kitten, I didn’t—”

  “No. Don’t call me that. And just…just don’t fucking talk to me. Okay?” Not waiting for my reply, Amber turned on her heel and stomped off toward Thing 2, leaving me following silently behind them.

  How I went from knight in shining armor to asshole in the wrong I couldn’t wrap my brain around.

  I spent the next hour brooding in the corner of the break room while Amber talked to an HR manager, then filled out a binder’s worth of paperwork. She didn’t look my way once. Not even when the HR prat asked about me. I couldn’t hear Amber’s reply, but I could feel the judgment in the prat’s eyes every time he looked at me. Not that I gave a shit. I was used to it, actually. But I couldn’t be the reason that Amber lost her job. I might hate the fact that she worked here, but she needed this job—her family needed her to keep this job.

  So, I swallowed my pride and approached the HR prat as he was leaving.

  “Sir? Can I have a moment?”

  “We don’t need a statement from you. Surveillance verified your story. Amber has given me your contact info in case the gentleman is foolish enough to actually press charges. So, if there’s anything else…?”

  “Yes, sir. I just wanted to apologize for my part in what happened. And I hope that my actions won’t affect Ms. Bennett’s job.” I had gotten plenty of p
ractice in the art of apologizing during my time as a teen punk. I just treated this guy the same as I would any impartial judge—I lied. Except for the part about Amber’s job.

  “If that’s your idea of a threat, you should know that we have cameras in here as well.”

  I blinked. “That was my idea of an apology. I said I’m sorry.”

  He took a step back as my anger gave my words an edge I didn’t want.

  Nodding cautiously, he continued to step away. “Right. I accept. All forgiven. If that’s it, I have some work to get back to.”

  He fled out the door before I could reply.

  “You really need to work on your apologies.” Amber snorted, her head still bent over her paperwork.

  “What? I said I was sorry.”

  “Maybe practice in front of a mirror next time.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Amber shook her head, then looked up at me with a slight smile. “All that.” She waved a hand in my general direction. “It’s a little scary when it’s pointed at someone like him.”

  “Doesn’t seem to scare you.”

  Amber bit her lip then dropped her gaze to her paperwork again. “I’m used to it. Mostly.”

  “Didn’t seem to scare that frat boy prick much, either.”

  Amber snorted again. “Really? He pissed his pants—literally—or didn’t you notice?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t usually look at guys’ crotches.”

  Amber rolled her eyes and bent over her paperwork again.

  “I am sorry, though. Really.”

  She looked up at me with her ice blue eyes and my heart stuttered.

  It took me a second to remember what we were talking about. I cleared my throat roughly. “I don’t want to be the reason that you lose your job. I know how important it is to your family.”

  Amber nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

  I nodded back and rocked back on my heels. I felt foolish suddenly. And I didn’t know what to say to break the seriousness of the moment.