His brows slanted. “You’d let me do that?”
“When you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” he said hopefully.
“Slow down, buddy. I mean when I think you’re ready.”
Kenny rolled his eyes.
“Believe me, you’ll want to be prepared for that call. It probably won’t be an easy one, and losing your cool won’t do you any favors.”
“Losing my cool with you or with her?”
“Both. But don’t worry. I’ve got faith in you. We’ll find better ways to communicate and safer avenues for all that fury you’re carrying around.”
Kenny grabbed the bucket. “Can we fix the fence now?”
“Absolutely.” As they worked on taking out the old screws and removing the rail, Dare said, “You’re done with school this year, but in the fall, if you’re still having trouble, it’ll be up to you to ask for help. You’re too smart not to try. If you don’t want to ask your parents, you can ask your teacher for help at lunch or after school, or ask a friend to give you a hand, or ask your parents to get you a tutor.”
Kenny didn’t say a word until they were done fixing the rail, and he spoke quietly. “The schoolwork isn’t too hard.”
I figured. “No? So why’d your grades tank?”
“Because of what happened with Katie. I couldn’t concentrate.”
Dare wanted to do a fist pump with that breakthrough, and he wanted to explore it further, but he knew when to bide his time, and he kept his cool. “That’s understandable. Maybe tomorrow we can talk about that.”
“Are we done?”
“Sure are. Unless you want to talk some more?”
“Heck no. Dwight and Simone are making cinnamon buns for a snack today, and I’m starved.”
“Cinnamon buns? What’re we waiting for? Let’s get outta here.”
When they got to the main house, Kenny climbed out of the truck and looked at Dare before closing the door. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For not saying I was a dick to my parents when I was.”
“I’m not here to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m on your side.”
“Will you teach me to ride dirt bikes?”
“That’s up to you.”
Kenny’s brows knitted in concentration, and he gave a curt nod, which he undoubtedly had learned from Dare, and headed inside. Dare was proud of him. He’d shared some heavy stuff today. They had a long way to go, but at least they were on the right track. Dare started driving toward the lower barns, where he was meeting up with Darcy for her session. His phone vibrated, and he saw Billie’s name on the screen. “Finally.”
He pulled over to read her message. Space helped. “Really, Mancini?” he grumbled. “I don’t hear from you for twenty-four hours and I get two words?”
Another text bubble popped up. Kind of.
Grinning, he thumbed out, You miss me, don’t you, Mancini?
Her response was immediate—an eye roll emoji.
That woman was going to drive him mad.
Another message rolled in. Maybe a little. It turns out I like my space better when you’re in it, too.
“Now, that’s more like it.” He typed, Sounds like someone wants to get frisky with their Whiskey.
She sent a laughing emoji.
“Go ahead and laugh, Mancini. We both know you want me.” He thumbed out, Gotta head into a session with a client. Stay frisky. He added an eggplant emoji and flames, hit send, and headed to the barn to meet his next client with thoughts of his Wildfire dancing in his mind.
Chapter Nine
FRIDAY NIGHTS WERE always slamming at the Roadhouse. Between the cheers around the mechanical bull, the din of the crowd, and the blaring music, Billie couldn’t hear herself think—and she loved it. It wouldn’t be a biker bar without rowdy guys knocking chests like fools and the girls who drooled over them. She didn’t even mind putting guys in their places or telling people they’d had enough alcohol and refusing to serve them. She was always up for a challenge, and tonight she needed the distraction. She’d felt so much better after talking with her father and thinking about everything he and Dare had said, she wished she’d been honest with them ages ago. She’d been on such a high, she’d let those feelings come out in her text to Dare, and she’d been left with butterflies swarming in her stomach.
She put a napkin on the bar and set a drink on it in front of a tall dark-haired guy. “What else can I get you?”
He smiled, and panty-melting dimples appeared. “How about a date with a beautiful bartender?”
Bobbie had just come behind the bar, and she gave Billie a look somewhere between Go for it and amused.
Billie leaned on the bar in front of the dimpled stranger. “Aren’t you sweet? Sorry, but I’m taken.” The proclamation came without thought and brought a rush of happiness. “But the kitchen is open till ten, and we have some sweet wings that are sure to leave you satisfied.” She handed him an appetizer menu and turned around to grab a towel.
Bobbie was right there, wearing a ROADHOUSE T-shirt and a goofy grin. “Taken, huh? And you didn’t bite that guy’s head off like you usually do? Well, that explains a lot.”
“Why?”
Bobbie lowered her voice. “Obviously Dare got rid of all that pent-up anger you’ve been lugging around. Go Dare.”
“Shut up.” Bobbie was taking all too much pleasure in teasing her, and Billie was surprised she didn’t hate it. But she didn’t want her personal business to become the talk of the town.
“What’s next? Will you be wearing his ID bracelet?”
She would have given anything to have worn that in high school. “Don’t you have customers to help?” She took a step toward a group of guys hanging over the bar, but Kellan stepped up to serve them.
“Why, yes, I do. My favorite smokin’-hot Greek god of a single daddy is here.” Bobbie pointed across the bar to Ezra, sitting at a table with Rebel and a few other Dark Knights.
“He’s not even Greek. His last name is Moore.”
“His mother is Greek.”
“How do you know that? We’ve never even met his mom.”
“People might be afraid of you, but they trust me with their secrets.” She giggled and strutted out from behind the bar just as the front doors opened, and Dare strode in, followed by Doc, Cowboy, and Hyde.
Billie’s pulse kicked up, and as customers’ heads turned to check out the four leather-cut-wearing badasses blocking the doorway, she was pretty sure every other woman’s did, too. But she didn’t give them another thought, because as Dare led the pack toward the bar, his eyes never left hers. God, he was gorgeous, all those hard muscles inked to perfection. Her chest got fluttery, and she didn’t love that out-of-control feeling when she was at work, with dozens of eyes on her.
A wolfish grin curved his lips as he planted his hands on the bar, leaning over it. “Hey, darlin’. Give me some sugar.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Are we doing this? Here? Now? His brothers, and every customer sitting near them, were watching them with curious, amused expressions, and Dare was looking at her expectantly. Jesus, Dare, give a girl a minute. She couldn’t think straight. She grabbed a handful of sugar packets from beneath the bar and slapped them down in front of him.