She’d see him tonight.
Maybe.
She hoped so.
This time she’d make his tequila and tabasco right and ask him why he’d tossed those young guys out of the car. She already knew the answer, but she wanted him to admit that he was just as interested in her as she was in him, and that the looks they’d exchanged in the park or their interlude at the campsite hadn’t been just a passing act on lust.
Three hours at the Painted Pig left her burning with frustration. Not one Dark Falcon walked through those doors, and her hopes of seeing Patriot again faded as the night wore on.
She threw Fiona another look and chewed on her lip. She could ask her new boss where they were, casual-like.
She leaned around Fiona for a glass to pour a draft beer for a customer. “Quiet here tonight,” she said to lead up to her question.
Fiona looked toward the back of the room, where a few guys shot pool. “Yeah.”
Aarica followed her gaze. “The Dark Falcons don’t come in every night?”
She smiled. “Only a few times a week. There’s a party at the clubhouse tonight.”
“Clubhouse? Where is that?”
“On the other side of town.”
Seeing she wouldn’t learn more information on that topic, she asked, “Must be important to celebrate in the middle of the week.”
Fiona smiled. “They’re patching in a member who is long overdue.”
She delivered the beer to the customer, placed the payment in the register drawer, the tip into her apron pocket, and thanked him with a smile. Then she began to dry glasses while talking to Fiona.
“I admit I don’t know much about MCs. Only what you see or hear on TV.”
“The Dark Falcons aren’t that kind of club. Not only is my boyfriend the president but my brothers are members. They’re on the up and up.”
A couple guys came in, followed by a deputy sheriff in uniform.
“I’ll take the deputy,” Fiona said to her quietly and moved to the bar. “What can I get you?”
“I’m looking for a man who frequents this bar. Hoping you might know his whereabouts tonight.”
Though she found it hard to focus on serving the other two customers, Aarica managed to pour their drinks while listening in on Fiona’s conversation with the lawman.
“I don’t know too many of the customers’ names, Deputy,” Fiona told him.
“I’m looking for a man named Logan Stone. Goes by the nickname of Patriot.”
Aarica’s insides steeled. Her head whipped around and she stared at the deputy and then shifted her gaze to Fiona.
Her boss didn’t move or indicate that she recognized the name. “Why are you looking for him?”
“I need to speak to him regarding a couple recent thefts. If he comes in tonight, tell him I’m looking for him and to call the sheriff’s department.”
Skitters of dread washed up from the depths of Aarica’s stomach and spread—a wildfire through her system. What was going on? Thefts? Had Patriot been robbed? Her mind went straight to those guys he’d ripped out of their car and tossed in the yard like trash. Maybe they had retaliated. She couldn’t help but think she was to blame if that was the case.
Just as the deputy turned to leave, the door opened again and three men entered, all in black, two bearing the Dark Falcons patch—and one of them was Patriot.
He sized up the situation in a heartbeat, gaze flicking from the deputy to Fiona’s face and finally resting on Aarica’s. Energy trilled through her at the impact of his stare, but then he directed his attention away.
“You looking to talk to me?” His voice grated across the space—and her senses—as he spoke to the deputy.
The lawman nodded.
“Let’s take it outside.” Without another word or a backward glance in her direction, Patriot turned and left the building, his friends behind him and the deputy bringing up the rear.
“Shit.” Fiona threw her a look. “Hold down the fort.” She grabbed her phone, shot off a text to someone—most likely her boyfriend and MC president. Then she ran out the door.
Aarica stared after them, gripping the edge of the bar. That pounding in her chest was dread. She knew little about small-town life but she wasn’t blind. Something big was going down, with Patriot at the center of it all.
She inched out from around the bar, throwing a glance at the customers. Everyone seemed to be taken care of for the moment—could she possibly peek outside and see what was happening? What if she witnessed the object of her infatuation being arrested? Her cousins’ voices rose in her head, telling her to back away—she did not want involved in that.
Still, she walked over to the door. As she flattened a hand against it and pushed it outward, her heart tripped faster. She poked her head out the crack she’d made and surveyed the parking lot.
Her gaze landed on black leather, and she followed the broad chest upward to find Patriot staring back at her. Quickly, she withdrew her head and hurried on wobbly legs to the bar once more.
She replayed the scene. The sheriff standing with Patriot, the other Dark Falcon and the third man who seemed to be some sort of sidekick, standing off to the side with an odd smirking smile on his face. Fiona beside them, arms folded and looking about to slay a man. The family feeling she got from the group was something Aarica understood so well. If one of her cousins ended up in the principal’s office, one of the brothers would hear about it and barge in to back him up, whether he was allowed to be there or not.
Seeing that just now made her more certain that Patriot was innocent in the matter.
Not five minutes passed and then a rumble started outside. Pretty soon she realized the noise came from the engines of every motorcycle in town associated with the Dark Falcons. Of course the moment she wanted to run to the door and look out again, a group of guys requested whiskey shots all around to celebrate a birthday that she stopped listening to the details about.
She set shot glasses up as fast as possible and poured down the row, took the money and was about to run to the door to look out again, when Fiona returned.
Feeling the air sucked from her lungs, Aarica made eye contact with her. Her sassy little boss appeared flushed. Ticked off too.
“Everything okay?” She attempted to keep her voice casual as Fiona returned to the bar.
“Freakin’ peachy.”
She burned to ask more, but Fiona hadn’t been clued in about her hookup with Patriot or that they’d bumped into each other several other times. She also probably hadn’t heard that he’d ripped two men from their car for whistling and calling to her, or that the third guy had sprinted down the road to get away from him.
Or that the attraction between them bordered on planetary. She certainly saw stars when she so much as thought about Patriot.
When Fiona extended a hand to reach for a glass, her hand trembled.
Alarm hit Aarica, and she placed a hand gently over her forearm. Fiona looked at her.
“I’ll get the drink. Maybe I should pour you one too.”
Fiona relinquished the glass to her and stepped aside to lean against the bar. “I’ll have some Jack.”
“Coming right up.” She nodded and poured the customer’s drink and then the shot for her boss. Despite the fact that drinking behind the bar wasn’t allowed, this called for desperate measures. Her boss slammed it down and set the glass on the counter.