Page 46 of Daddy Issues

“I’m so jealous.” Dani sighed, leaning forward on her fists. “They are both so hot. I need to know all the deliciously deviant details.”

No. No, she didn’t. I pressed my cool fingers to my blazing hot cheeks. There were some sounds at the door, and I turned my head, doing a double take. Dani’s eyes tracked my gaze, and she went quiet.

We no longer talked about me boinking two Desert Kings, because two counterfeit ones walked in—complete with leather vests they hadn’t earned. Whitney glanced between us, catching on to the mood shift.

“What’s up?” she asked.

I glanced at Dani and shook my head no. She wiped the bar without a word.

I sent a text to Merc, like I’d said I would.

On the way. Keep them there.

Which is why I brought Whitney. “Let’s go flirt with the bikers.”

She glanced at them. “I hate to break it to you, but those aren’t the real deal—”

“Don’t hate me.” I took her by the hand, rambling on as I was known to do. “You can sit right here and leave it all to me. I totally wanted to hang out—” I’d been having the best time I’d had in a while, minus the utter humiliation of a few minutes ago. “—the two buffoons are why I’m here. I didn’t actually know if this would happen and wanted to have a good time if it didn’t. But Merc and the guys will be here—”

She lifted her eyebrows. “I don’t take much convincing. I’m all about having a great time and having hot bikers indebted to me.”

Dancers, especially from The Black Cat, were a different breed of woman. I envied them for that sort of tenacity.

My phone buzzed. I glanced to see Puck calling.

I answered, plugging one finger in my ear to hear him over the music from the digital jukebox in the corner. “Hello?”

“You’ve done enough. Get out of there. We can handle it from here.”

“I don’t mind,” I said easily, hearing but unable to place the emotion in his voice. “No big deal. I’m already here.”

“Kenna,” He breathed. “I don’t want them anywhere near you.”

It was a similar version of what I’d felt earlier. “Awe, big guy, you jealous?” I teased.

“Don’t be a brat.” The gruff accusation in his voice was so sexy, arousal sparked between my thighs and I rubbed them together.

“Oh, I intend to do that fully. See you soon.” I clicked the phone off and left it face down on the bar beside my empty shot glass.

“Let the games begin.”

Puck

I kept reminding myself this was different from that night at the frat house. There was no immediate danger to Kenna, not before we got there. But I still took the lead as we rode out, Cam to my right just behind me. Merc just to the left. The others behind them. We didn’t ride in with everyone, no reason for Jester to ride in front or me in the back.

But it was the full table plus Chop. Pork Chop wasn’t letting this one go, not with the kid still banged up at his mom’s house recovering from a broken collarbone and pretty gnarly concussion.

We cut the engines and coasted in, except for the decoys. AP had made Pork Chop, Dekes and himself buzz the bar, ride by full out to cover the sound of us coasting in. The tiny bar with the tin roof and faded neon sign had a half-full parking lot. A Yamaha street bike was parked right beside a newish silver Chevy truck with a Harley bumper sticker.

As I kicked my stand out and climbed off, I jerked my chin at them. “Our guys?”

Cam glanced around the parking lot. A couple of contractors’ trucks and two sedans. “Bet my ass it is.”

He lit a cigarette and leaned against the bike while Merc and Jester walked over.

“After you, sunshine.” Jester made a grand sweeping gesture to Cam. A reminder of how good it was to have him back. There was never a question who was walking in first. Especially if it was about to get messy.

Cam shoved through the door, taking a drag off his cigarette, and surveyed the room. His body lax, like it was just your average Saturday night. Even when his gaze zeroed in on the assholes in our cuts.

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