quick to follow.
The heavy steel door slammed behind them. Classic rock blared from the sound system. The bar was filled with bikers of all shapes and sizes, and every single one of them turned to see who had entered. Baby found herself shrinking behind M.J.’s lean frame, intimidated by the crustier clientele. M.J., however, stalked purposefully toward the bar, where a tall bearded man was making drinks.
He was rugged and handsome, towering over six feet tall, with broad shoulders barely contained by the black T-shirt he wore. His thick brown hair curled by the nape of his neck, while a neatly trimmed beard trailed along his strong, square jawline. Though he was rough around the edges, his dark eyes were kind. They regarded the redhead with playful affection.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he said, smiling. He rounded the bar and took her up in a massive bear hug. “I oughta kick your ass for staying away so long,” he growled, holding her close.
“If you think you’re man enough,” she teased with a smile of her own.
He kept M.J. in the crook of his arm and turned his attention to Baby. “And who is your friend?”
“This is Baby,” she said. “Baby, this is Snake.”
Baby held out her hand and he shook it with power and authority. Despite his venomous moniker, for the first time in a long time, Baby actually felt safe. She offered him a small smile, which pleased him. He rounded the bar to pour her a soda. “Any friend of M.J.’s is a friend of mine,” he announced. “You hungry? I think we have just enough chili left for one more bowl.”
M.J. groaned. “I just got this girl out of Hollywood. I’m not sending her to the ER because of your chili.”
He held a hand to his chest. “I’m . . . I’m hurt.”
Baby couldn’t help but giggle. He was a charmer, there was no doubt about it. “I’ll risk it,” she said with a shy smile.
“See? She’s not afraid. Lori!” He hollered to the waitress across the room. “Set our friend up with a bowl of chili.” He leaned across the bar from Baby with a teasing gleam in his eye. “They’ll have to scrape most of it off the bottom of the pan with a chisel and a rock. Good stuff, though.”
Again Baby giggled. He gave her a wink and turned back to M.J. “So. What’s up?”
M.J. glanced down at Baby, who turned her attention back to her soda. With a wave of her finger, she led Snake away from the bar and into his office, closing the door behind them.
“Hollywood, huh?” he asked, perching on the edge of his cluttered desk. She shrugged in response, as if he should have known better than to ask. And of course he did. Molly Joanne Bennett had been patrolling Hollywood for nearly ten years, taking up the mantle left behind by her grandfather, Joe. She still wore his signet ring on the index finger of her left hand, and now she wore his bandana on her wrist and his dog tags around her neck as well. His mission had become her mission. It was her duty. It was her calling. All of that was status quo.
The only surprise was that she had brought one of her kids with her to the bar. That was new. “Surprised you didn’t leave her with Rose.”
“There was a slight complication,” M.J. replied, as if a dead gangbanger was as inconvenient as a misplaced set of keys.
Snake, however, could easily read between the lines. “M.J.,” he groaned.
Her green eyes met his. “Can we crash with you? Just for a couple of days, while I figure out what to do with her.”
He sighed. He knew she wouldn’t ask if she had any other choice. And she never asked for help unless it was important. The girl sitting at his bar was in danger, and M.J. was willing to set aside her pride to help her. Snake looped two fingers through the belt loops on either side of her hips and drew M.J. toward him, fitting her right in between his powerful thighs. “When have you ever had to ask?”
“I don’t know. I just thought, maybe after last time . . .” She
The heavy steel door slammed behind them. Classic rock blared from the sound system. The bar was filled with bikers of all shapes and sizes, and every single one of them turned to see who had entered. Baby found herself shrinking behind M.J.’s lean frame, intimidated by the crustier clientele. M.J., however, stalked purposefully toward the bar, where a tall bearded man was making drinks.
He was rugged and handsome, towering over six feet tall, with broad shoulders barely contained by the black T-shirt he wore. His thick brown hair curled by the nape of his neck, while a neatly trimmed beard trailed along his strong, square jawline. Though he was rough around the edges, his dark eyes were kind. They regarded the redhead with playful affection.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he said, smiling. He rounded the bar and took her up in a massive bear hug. “I oughta kick your ass for staying away so long,” he growled, holding her close.
“If you think you’re man enough,” she teased with a smile of her own.
He kept M.J. in the crook of his arm and turned his attention to Baby. “And who is your friend?”
“This is Baby,” she said. “Baby, this is Snake.”
Baby held out her hand and he shook it with power and authority. Despite his venomous moniker, for the first time in a long time, Baby actually felt safe. She offered him a small smile, which pleased him. He rounded the bar to pour her a soda. “Any friend of M.J.’s is a friend of mine,” he announced. “You hungry? I think we have just enough chili left for one more bowl.”
M.J. groaned. “I just got this girl out of Hollywood. I’m not sending her to the ER because of your chili.”
He held a hand to his chest. “I’m . . . I’m hurt.”
Baby couldn’t help but giggle. He was a charmer, there was no doubt about it. “I’ll risk it,” she said with a shy smile.
“See? She’s not afraid. Lori!” He hollered to the waitress across the room. “Set our friend up with a bowl of chili.” He leaned across the bar from Baby with a teasing gleam in his eye. “They’ll have to scrape most of it off the bottom of the pan with a chisel and a rock. Good stuff, though.”
Again Baby giggled. He gave her a wink and turned back to M.J. “So. What’s up?”
M.J. glanced down at Baby, who turned her attention back to her soda. With a wave of her finger, she led Snake away from the bar and into his office, closing the door behind them.
“Hollywood, huh?” he asked, perching on the edge of his cluttered desk. She shrugged in response, as if he should have known better than to ask. And of course he did. Molly Joanne Bennett had been patrolling Hollywood for nearly ten years, taking up the mantle left behind by her grandfather, Joe. She still wore his signet ring on the index finger of her left hand, and now she wore his bandana on her wrist and his dog tags around her neck as well. His mission had become her mission. It was her duty. It was her calling. All of that was status quo.
The only surprise was that she had brought one of her kids with her to the bar. That was new. “Surprised you didn’t leave her with Rose.”
“There was a slight complication,” M.J. replied, as if a dead gangbanger was as inconvenient as a misplaced set of keys.
Snake, however, could easily read between the lines. “M.J.,” he groaned.
Her green eyes met his. “Can we crash with you? Just for a couple of days, while I figure out what to do with her.”
He sighed. He knew she wouldn’t ask if she had any other choice. And she never asked for help unless it was important. The girl sitting at his bar was in danger, and M.J. was willing to set aside her pride to help her. Snake looped two fingers through the belt loops on either side of her hips and drew M.J. toward him, fitting her right in between his powerful thighs. “When have you ever had to ask?”
“I don’t know. I just thought, maybe after last time . . .” She
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