Page 36 of You're My Person - For Always

"Ten bucks I can tap that ass before I finish my beer," said a man behind her.

A loud crash startled her. She dropped the empty tray.

"Fight. Fight,"chanted the men.

As soon as she straightened, Rebecca grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the counter. "Stay back."

She turned around. There were men standing everywhere. Her gaze, drawn to the movement in the middle, she zeroed in on the tattooed arm bulging before it swung out and hit the other man. She gasped, stepping forward, needing to stop Kingsley before he got hurt.

"No way, my friend." Rebecca pulled her back against the counter. "Let him deal with the men."

"Why are they fighting?" She stood on tiptoes, trying to see past the others. "Kingsley just walked in."

"I'm sure he overheard Savage talking about you," said Rebecca.

"Me?" She studied the man on the floor, bleeding from his nose and trying to get up.

She never paid much attention to the men. The bikers talked all the time. She was only doing her job. Kingsley should understand that she would never think of hooking up with one of his MC brothers.

Kingsley lifted Savage off the floor. "Don't ever look." He hit Savage in the jaw. "Talk." He punched him in the gut. "Think about my woman, or I'll kill you."

Savage, bent at the waist, coughed and held up his hand. "Didn't know she belonged—" He coughed. "Sorry, brother."

"Cool it, boys. Simmer down and clean up the mess," shouted Lori from the doorway of the kitchen. "Rebecca, foods up. Kenna, see if Kingsley needs anything. The rest of you, straighten the table and chairs."

She rushed to Kingsley's side, scanning his face and pushing him away from the others. Then, she picked up his hands and looked at his knuckles. They were red but surprisingly unharmed.

There was no reason to fight. He should've ignored Savage.

She pulled him to the counter and pointed at a stool. "Sit."

"Are you ordering me around now?" He grinned.

"Maybe I should." She walked around the counter and filled a shot glass with whiskey. "Drink and chill."

He tipped back the drink and exhaled loudly. "How often do the members talk to you like that?"

She raised her brows. "Talking is free. It doesn't mean I listen to them."

"Bullshit." He leaned forward. "Tomorrow night, we'll go to the clubhouse. I'll claim you in front of every fucker that's there. They know better than to even look at you."

She wasn't the type of person who needed a big show of emotions. Kingsley knew that.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

He slid the shot glass across the counter and nodded for her to fill it up again. "Nothing."

That wasn't true. He was keeping something from her.

Kingsley was the kindest, most even-tempered, and reliable person she knew. Getting in fights and tossing back whiskey wasn't his style.

She studied him. Yet, here he was, doing a good job of losing his cool. Something had happened at the meeting before he got here and went off on the other biker.

"How about I get you something to eat?" She covered his hand and squeezed. "You'll feel better with something in your stomach."

He stood, leaned over the counter, and kissed her hard. "I got shit to do. I'll see you after work."

He walked out of the bar. She looked around to see if anyone else thought he acted strange, but everyone had returned to drinking and eating as if the fight hadn't happened.

---