Page 6 of Kings Don't Break
A whistle leaves my lips walking into the Steel Saloon. “Mason Cutler, I never thought I’d see the day.”
My best friend's seated at the bar counter grinning wide with his hand on the thigh of his old lady. The sight's still surprising even after a few months of their whirlwind romance.
Once upon a time, Mace swore he'd never settle down, let alone be a one-woman kind of guy.
That changed the day he met Sydney Singer.
The two couldn't stand each other at first, butting heads at every turn, but after false betrayals were cleared up and the real bad guys held accountable, they’ve been smitten with each other ever since.
So much so, Sydney's head old lady and Mace’s in higher spirits than he's ever been.
Not something I say lightly—the two of us have known each other since we rode around in training wheels. He’s never been happier than he is with Sydney.
He tears his attention away from her and looks over at me, his dark green eyes glinting. "Well, if it ain't Cash. My best friend who has every woman in town begging to have his babies.”
My face warms as the couple laughs. I play it off with a shake of my shoulder-length golden hair and a modest smile. "Not every woman. Just most."
"Do you hear this cocky mother ’effer?" Mace asks his girl.
Sydney humors us both by holding up her hands like she's innocent. "Don't drag me in the middle! I just got here."
"You've been here four months now. That excuse's wearing off."
She lets out a squeal as he squeezes her thigh and leans close, nipping at her neck.
I fold my arms over my chest, admiring the two. "You need to tone it down. You're making even me sick."
“Then get you a girl and we can double date,” Mace says.
I wink in answer. “I’ve got plenty of girls. Just not the girl.”
“How are things with Janessa?” Sydney asks in a hopeful tone. “The woman you brought to our last club party? How’s she doing?”
“Right… she’s good. We’re good. Things are very casual.”
“In other words, she’s for late night calls only.” Mace ignores the chiding look Sydney gives him and reaches for his pint of beer. “I didn’t care for her anyway. She didn’t fit in with the club.”
“She was nice!” Sydney says.
“She wouldn’t even put her purse down. Like the bar had fucking germs or some shit.”
I shoot my best bud an easy smile. “I’d say it’s a fair assessment considering the last time the saloon was deep scrubbed, we were in diapers. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be.”
Both call after me as I turn around and wander the rest of the saloon. On a chilly Friday afternoon like this, the mood’s relaxed and casual. The few guys visiting the saloon are sitting back, sipping on their drinks and chatting among themselves.
I pay Mick a visit on the other side of the counter and then hit up the table where Stein and Bush are enjoying a Texas Brew and some pretzels.
There’s a reason I spend most of my afternoons at the Chop Shop. Otherwise, unless we’ve got club business or a mission we’re carrying out, I’m left aimless. I’m left bored. Things never go too well for me when I get too bored…
I’m chuckling as both Stein and Bush give me a hard time about my looks (something I’m used to at the club). I don’t have the same harsh ruggedness most of the other guys do. They tease the hell out of me for looking like a Hollywood actor version of a biker versus a real-life one.
I take the digs in stride like I always do.
My phone vibrates in my jeans’ pocket. I pull it out as Bush yammers on about my shiny golden hair and how I must spend hours conditioning it.
Janessa’s texted me.
Except there are no words in the text message—just heart emojis and a photo.
