Page 5 of Harley's Hex
Hex rose to his feet, stepping close enough to Harley that he could feel her breath against his chest. “Honey, I don’t start what I can’t finish. I’m not sure why you seem to hate me so much, Harley, but I’d love another chance.” She hadn’t given him a chance to begin with. From the very start, she had pushed him away, and he wondered why that was.
For a long moment, neither moved. The muffled laughter from inside the bar sounded miles away. Harley’s hand twitchedat her side, as if fighting the urge to touch him. “You’re serious,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
“As a heart attack,” he said, noting her wince. “Yeah, that was too soon. I felt it as soon as the words left my lips. Savage's almost dying put things in perspective for me. I know that I act like none of that medical stuff ever bothers me, but it does.” He reached out, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, fingers lingering just a little too long. “I want something real, and I think I found it right here—if you’ll give me a chance, honey.” Harley didn’t step back, and his heart thudded against his ribs as though it was trying to escape.
“You’re insane,” she murmured.
Hex’s grin deepened. “You’re not wrong.” Harley looked him over, seeming caught between caution and curiosity.
Finally, she shook her head with a reluctant smile. “If you’re staying, you better be ready to work,” she said, tossing him the bar towel that she kept over her shoulder.
Hex’s voice dropped to a rumble. “I’m not afraid of hard work.” Harley turned and walked back inside — leaving the door open behind her, and Hex knew that she was giving him the chance that he had asked her for. So he did the only thing he knew to do—Hex followed her into the bar and thanked his lucky stars that he might finally have his chance with Harley.
Harley
Harley wasn’t sure if giving Hex a chance to hurt her was a good idea or not. In her experience, that was what men did. They took what they wanted from her and left her with a broken heart. Honestly, she hadn’t expected Hex to last as long as he had at the bar. She half expected him to go back to work on base within just a few days, but here they were, weeks after Savage’s heart surgery, and Hex was still sticking around.
Monday nights weren’t supposed to be so busy, but with Savage at home recovering from surgery, the whole bar felt off-kilter. It was as though the pulse of the place had shifted, and Harley couldn’t wait for things to go back to normal—or as normal as a biker club could be. Members seemed restless, the music felt as though it was almost too loud, and the air was thick with unspoken worry.
Harley moved around quickly behind the bar top, refilling glasses, and keeping things steady the way Savage had taught her. She’d been running the bar at Savage Hell for a while now—long enough to know how to handle the chaos that roared on around her. Or she thought she had — until he showed up.
Hex stepped out of the office, calm and collected, but Harley knew him well enough to know that he was really a storm disguised as a man. In his dark jeans, cut hanging loose on his broad shoulders, and the unreadable expression that drove her crazy in place, he was trouble, and Harley knew it.
“Just got off the phone with the liquor distributor,” he said, sliding up to the bar. “I told them that we’d take that extra shipment of bourbon next week. That should keep us stocked through winter.”
Harley froze mid-pour, the whiskey bottle still hovering over a shot glass. “You did what?” she spat.
Hex blinked as though she’d just questioned his basic logic. “I handled the order. I thought I had made that pretty clear. We were running low, and I placed an order.”
She slammed the bottle down. “You just spent four grand without checking with me? We don’t have room for another shipment until next month.” Yeah, she was blowing things a bit out of proportion, but Hex going rogue and placing orders wasn’t helping her out at all.
He shrugged, and that pissed her off even more. How was he so damn calm when all she wanted to do was rage? “We’ll make room. Better to have it and not need it than the other way around.”
She glared at him. “This isn’t the military, Hex. You can’t just throw money at problems and call it strategy.”
His voice dropped an octave, that quiet command she’d heard him use when club members got rowdy. “I’m not throwing money at a problem. I’m keeping the place stocked. I thought that was the goal—you know, to keep things running smoothly until Savage got back.”
“You thought wrong,” she snapped, stepping closer. “I’ve been running this bar for years, keeping it profitable and legal. Savage trusts me to do my fucking job. You’ve been here, what— three weeks now? You don’t get to make those kinds of decisions.”
He leaned in, elbows on the counter, eyes steady and unflinching. “Savage asked me to handle operations while he’s down. I’m just doing what he asked.”
“Funny,” she shot back, “I didn’t realize that meant steamrolling everyone who actually knows how this place runs.”
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them — thick and dangerous. Then he smiled. That slow, rough-edged smirk that always seemed to make her pulse skip.
“You done now?” he asked.
She bristled. “Don’t you dare—”
He caught her wrist mid-gesture, not hard, but firm enough to still her. His voice softened, just a little. “You care about this place. I get that, Harley. So do I. Maybe stop fighting everyone who tries to help you, honey.”
Her breath hitched — partly from the warmth of his touch and partly from his nerve, saying what he had to her. “You think you’re helping?” she whispered, leaning in closer to him.
“Yeah,” he said. “Even if you don’t see it that way yet,” he almost whispered. He was so close now, all she had to do was lean in just a bit further, and she’d be able to brush her lips over his. God, she wanted to do just that, but she didn’t. Instead, she yanked her hand back, anger and something else twisting inside her.
“You screw with the books again, and I’ll tell Savage myself,” she hissed.
He gave a quiet laugh, not mocking — just dangerous. “You tell him whatever you want, sweetheart. But he left this place in our hands, not just yours.”
