Page 20 of Thornhill Road

“Same as the rest of us. Worked in the garage and the shop. Still do, when I feel like it.”

I nodded and took another swallow of my ranch water.

I was out of questions.

Or, rather, I was out ofsafequestions. What else was there after work talk? Family was out. Hobbies were obsolete. Ihad no real hobbies, unless one considered power napping an interesting activity.

Deciding to leave the ball in his court, I turned my attention toward the band. Since I sat down, they’d played one or two covers, but there were some songs I’d never heard before. I wondered if they were originals. If they were, they were really good.

“Is this band local?” I inquired, barely taking my eyes off of them as I did.

“No, they’re based in South Dakota,” Mustang answered, his lips closer to my ear than they were before. “They’re a crowd favorite, though. Found out about ‘em a couple years ago, and I try to get them up here at least once every month or two.”

I thought about what he said. Not so much about the band, but his role in getting them there. Then I put a couple pieces together myself, recognizing that while it made zero sense for a badass biker who owned a badass biker bar to never drink, it made a whole lot of sense that a badass biker who owned a badass biker bar but never drank could pour a whole lot of his focus into sourcing awesome bands to come play at his bar. A bar that was known for miles as the place to be on a Saturday night if you wanted to hear some kickass live music.

I didn’t need another reason to like Mustang—but he’d given me one.

For the next forty-five minutes, I sipped slowly at my drink, enjoying the show. Mustang and I didn’t ask each other anymore questions, but the silence between us wasn’t weird. It didn’t feel like we were ignoring one another. It wasn’t just the two of us. We were in a crowded room, riding the vibe of the band. It was actually pretty great.

When I got to the bottom of my drink, I was a little disappointed I had to cut myself off.

Before I could twist to set my empty glass on the bar, Mustang’s fingers brushed against mine as he took it and put it behind me. I’d just looked up to say thank you when the band wrapped up their set. The overhead music kicked on, decidedly less loud, as they started clearing the stage in order to make way for the next band.

That’s when Mustang started grazing his knuckles up and down my side.

I stiffened at first contact, my eyes glued to the floor, but he wasn’t deterred.

When he kept going, the excitement that sparked in my belly rippled through me, causing a wave of warmth to spread all the way into my chest.

Against my better judgement, I relaxed.

It felt good, and I liked that his manly, tattooed hand was capable of a touch so gentle.

Yeah—I didn’t need another reason to like Mustang, but he’d scored one again.

I was in serious trouble.

As if she’d been waiting to take advantage of a quiet moment, Winnie turned toward me, mercifully pulling me from my thoughts as she asked, “How’d you two meet? I haven’t seen you around before.”

For a moment, Mustang’s fingers stopped grazing.

Instead, he wrapped his hand around my side and squeezed.

Somehow, I knew exactly what he was communicating.

This was why I answered, “I came in the other day, when it wasn’t busy, and he was behind the bar. I’ve been here a couple times, but on nights more like tonight.”

I’d said the right thing. I knew this because Mustang let me go, then continued the steady up and down rhythm of his knuckles on my side. Rather than get lost in the feel of his touch, I tried desperately to focus on what Winnie was saying.

“It’s nice to see a new friendly face. We get a lot of sheep, not all of them friendly, and certainly none with such impeccable taste in shoes.”

“Sheep?”

This was a new term for me.

Winnie smiled knowingly, glanced over my head at Mustang, then fixed her gaze back on me. I wasn’t sure what that look meant, but I was certain it meant something.

“Yeah, you know—hang-arounds. Club sheep. Always on the compound looking for a good time.”

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