“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Get your hands off my woman,” his father growled from across the room as he set a platter of chicken on one of the tables.
He was a bear of a man with a pendulous belly, a bushy gray beard, and longish gray hair that was currently trapped beneath a red bandanna tied around his forehead. His leatherlike skin was covered in faded ink, and not a day passed when he wasn’t wearing boots and jeans. He’d been raised by a hard-ass, misogynistic biker, and he was gruff. He didn’t smile often and didn’t give a shit how many people crossed the road when they saw him coming. But if those people who judged him on physical appearance alone ever took the time to get to know him, they’d realize that while he could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, he’d built a life around helping others and treated women like queens.
Dare met his father’s steady gaze. “I’ll do what I want, old man.”
Several of the guys eyed them. Dare and his father had gone head-to-head more times than he cared to admit, and as an arrogant, drunk teenager during spring break of his freshman year of college, Dare had even gone after his father physically. He’d never forget the look in his father’s eyes when he’d grabbed Dare by the front of his shirt and had lifted him off his feet with one hand and said, We can throw down as often as you’d like, boy, but whatever you’re running from will still be there, and so will I. This ain’t the way to handle your shit, so pull yourself together before you get yourself killed. Dare had been too headstrong to hear the meaning behind those words at that time, but they’d since become words he lived by. His father was the best and strongest man he knew.
“Not if you want to live to talk about it,” Cowboy said as he came in from the kitchen with a tray of food.
“And we all know how much you like to talk.” Hyde Ledger, a heavily inked ex-con, smirked.
Dare had been Hyde’s therapist when he’d gone through the program a few years ago. Hyde had gone from being a belligerent bastard to a downright cool guy. He’d prospected the club and had become a patch-wearing member. He’d stayed on to work at the ranch, as the Whiskeys had become family to him. So much so, that Hyde ribbed Dare about always wanting to talk things out, just like his siblings did.
“Talking is a good thing,” his mother said. “Besides, I think Dare could give Tiny a run for his money if he wanted to.”
“Tiny would squash him like a bug,” Darcy, another of Dare’s clients, said. She was a recovering addict who had come to the ranch four months earlier after completing ninety days at a rehab program and having trouble acclimating to her drug-free lifestyle. Her ability to joke about Dare was a sign of how great she was doing.
His father laughed. “You got that right.”
“You wish, old man,” Dare teased.
As the guys started joking around with his father about each of them taking him on, his mother touched his cheek and said, “Maya told me that you got your tickets to Spain.” Maya Martinez ran the offices of the ranch, but she didn’t live on site. “I hate to think of anything happening to my beautiful boy. Are you sure you want to go there?”
He’d been planning this trip to run with the bulls for more than a year. “I’m going, Mom. But I’ll be fine.”
Sasha sidled up to him and lowered her voice. “Maybe you shouldn’t try to get on Billie’s good side in case you get trampled. She’s already been through enough heartache.”
“Jesus, Sasha. I’ll be fine,” Dare snapped as Doc came through the front door with his black Lab, Mighty, one of his many dogs. Mighty scampered over to Sasha, who knelt to love him up.
“Are you and Billie talking again?” his mother asked with surprise as Birdie burst through the front doors and sprinted into the dining room wearing bright yellow shorts, a billowy purple top, and platform sneakers. She skidded to a stop between Dare and their mother.
“I can only stay for fifteen minutes, but I’m starved.” Birdie looked Dare up and down. “You look good, and you smell good. Got a date? Wait, it’s Tuesday. Church.” She petted Mighty on her way to the table, slid into a chair between Hyde and Darcy, and began piling food onto her plate. “Fill me in on your lives, but do it quick.”
Dare looked at his mother, and she shook her head, smiling.
“So?” his mother urged. “Are you and Billie talking again?”
“I never stopped talking. She finally gave me a few minutes of her time the other day.” And it was fucking awesome. He hoped she’d continue opening up to him. He worried about her. He’d felt Eddie’s loss, and the loss of his friendship with Billie, like the world had crumbled beneath his feet. But while he’d talked about his feelings for years, he knew Billie had chosen to keep hers to herself, and he knew all too well how that kind of heartache could destroy a person.
“A few minutes?” Doc scoffed as he strutted over to them. He was tall and fit, with short brown hair somewhere between the color of Dare’s and Cowboy’s. “If that’s all you got going on, it’s no wonder women never call you back.”
“Hey Dare, you could always slip her my number,” Taz, a crazy motherfucker and the fastest ranch hand Dare had ever met, chimed in.
Dare gave him a touch her and die stare as the others joined in with more banter, and before he knew it, even their mother and father were cracking jokes.
Dinner as usual…
AFTER A DELICIOUS meal with fun conversation, Dare climbed on his motorcycle and followed his father, brothers, and the other Dark Knights who worked at the ranch off the property toward the clubhouse. But when the others turned right off the main road, he kept going, heading straight to the Roadhouse.
He blew through the front doors, and Billie looked over from behind the bar, a reluctant smile tipping the edges of her lips. “Now, that’s more like it!” He threw his hands up and did a backflip, causing gasps and applause from the customers.
“Nice, Whiskey!” someone hollered.
Dare took a bow, eyes locked on Billie, who was scowling as he strode over to her.
“What was that?” she snapped.
“A celebration. You didn’t cast daggers at me when I walked in.”
She tried to stifle a smile, eyes narrowing. “What’re you doing here, Dare?”
He crossed his arms on the bar, leaning over it. “Just letting you know that you and I have plans tomorrow afternoon.” He knew she had Wednesday off.
“No.” She began wiping down the bar.
He put his hand over hers, stilling it and bringing her eyes back to him.
She arched a brow. “You aiming to lose that hand, Whiskey?”
“Be ready at noon, and dress comfortably.”
“I can’t. I have to…” Her eyes skirted around him. “Bathe my cat.”
A slow grin stretched across his face. “I can think of a far better way to get your pussy wet.”
She yanked her hand free, glowering at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you, just because we talked doesn’t make us besties.”
“If that’s what you’ve got to tell yourself to get through the night, go right ahead, Mancini. I’ll see you tomorrow at noon.”