Page 32 of Steel

Doubt flashes in his gaze. Vulnerability I’m guessing he doesn’t often show when, in his business, it could cost him his life.

“I’m not like my father.” I stare into his eyes and try to convince him it’s the truth, even though I’m sure it’s hard for him to accept, given how I came here. “I’m just trying to survive for me and my brother, Jameson. I didn’t want anything to do with this. I promise I’m not working against you or your club. I just want my life back. And I just want to give Austin his.”

He nods. “All right then.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I’d like to, which is why I’m letting you stay here with my only living family.” He wipes his palm down his face. “Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

Trust.

It’s a fragile concept between the two of us.

He doesn’t want to trust me because of my bloodline, and I don’t want to trust him because of his club. But right now, we have no choice.

“I won’t.”

“I’ve gotta take care of some business, but I’ll have a prospect pick you up in time for work.”

“You aren’t staying for breakfast?”

He shakes his head. “No time. I’ll grab something later.”

I get the feeling that’s not unusual for him, but I don’t say anything. I’ve already got enough responsibility with a little brother to raise. I’m not taking more on. Especially a biker who makes my body question why I’ve spent my life avoiding them in the first place.

9

Tempe

“What’s your favorite, good-looking?”The blond frat boy across the bar grins at me, thinking he’s original.

They always do.

The pickup lines, the pretending to care about my favorite drink, thewhat time do you get off tonightquestions. None of them seem to take the hint.

I’m not looking for a one-night stand, much less a boyfriend.

Forcing a smile, I ignore the fact that this guy’s pearly whites make me want to punch him in the face. “I don’t know. Guinness, I suppose.”

It’s not, even if I don’t mind it.

But if I had to guess, Frat Boy is a Bud Light or Corona drinker. Something light enough for him to handle while still feeling tough because he’s holding a beer.

“I’ll take a Guinness.” He grins.

Of course he will.

As expected, he’ll order my “favorite” to try and impress me. Which is as satisfying as his sour face when he takes the first bitter sip. Just as I thought, he wouldn’t know real alcohol if it was sitting right in front of him.

“Something wrong?” I wipe down the bar with a wet rag.

He shakes his head. “Nah. All good.”

I bite back a smile and walk away.

Dirty Drakes pulls in the worst of the locals, but at least messing with them makes for good entertainment.

“Hey, Tempe, you headed to the back?” Marley asks.

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