Page 45 of Driving Whiskey Wild
“You can’t leave me with that thought in my head.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into another kiss. “My van has never been christened, so while you’re out riding, maybe you should think about all the things you’d like to do to me in it.”
His eyes went coal black, and in her most innocent voice, she said, “Ta-ta, sweet man of mine. I must be leaving.”
BULLET WATCHED FINLAY drive away. Then he stalked back into the kitchen, determined to demand a change in his hours.
“Hey, B.” Dixie reached into a cabinet and handed him a pink box. “Finlay said to give this to you later, but I’m heading out in a sec.”
Red and Dixie were watching him expectantly, and guilt swallowed him again. He couldn’t reduce his hours. He had to be there to protect them when they were waitressing. Motherfucker.
“Open it,” Dixie urged.
He opened the box, took one look at the heart-shaped tart with B + F written on it in blue and pink frosting, and said, “Fuck. I need to get out of here.” He turned to go outside and smacked into Bear’s chest. Without thinking, Bullet grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off his feet.
“What the hell, B?” Bear pushed from his grip, and Bullet released him. “What crawled up your ass and died?”
“I can’t fucking do this anymore.” He paced by the door, gritting his teeth to keep from saying more.
“Do what?” Red asked. “What’s got you so upset, baby?”
Bullet glared at her. “Nothing.”
“That’s the lyingest nothing I’ve ever heard,” she challenged.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s no resolution.” He stormed out the door, and his family followed him out. He turned, ready to give them hell, but Biggs stood in front of the others, leaning on his cane, a barrier to absorb Bullet’s wrath. Bullet bit his tongue out of respect for his father.
“Talk to me, son,” Biggs said. “You don’t have room to keep any more demons trapped inside you.”
Bullet clenched his jaw.
“You are one stubborn son of a bitch,” Biggs said. “Spit it out before it kills ya.”
Bullet reached behind his neck with both hands and tipped his face up toward the sky, slamming his eyes shut. Never before had he wanted something so badly. He tried to fight it, tried to do the right thing and keep his damn mouth shut, for the sake of his family. But his love for Finlay was too strong, and the words flew fast and furious. “I can’t do this anymore, working until midnight five days a week, having no time off with Finlay. But I can’t cut my hours back. I’m fucked, and there’s no way out of it.”
“About damn time,” Bear said under his breath.
“What?” Dixie asked. “We were just talking about hours. You couldn’t have said something then?”
Biggs held his hand up without turning, silencing her.
Bullet glared at Dixie. “I can’t cut my hours. Who would protect you and Red?”
“Protect us?” Dixie strode right past Biggs until she was in Bullet’s face. “Thought you didn’t want to be a hero?”
“Dixie,” Red snapped.
“No, I’m not going to shut up.” Dixie crossed her arms, holding Bullet’s stare.
“I’m not anyone’s hero,” Bullet seethed.
“Bullshit. You’re the very definition of a hero any way you look at it. The question is, whose hero do you want to be?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Someone has to protect you and Red.”
“Yeah?” Challenge rose in Dixie’s eyes. “Well, here’s a news flash. I can protect myself, and no one would dare mess with the wife of the president of the Dark Knights.”
Bones and Bear approached, taking a stance on either side of Dixie. Arms crossed, heads held high. Fuck, he’d taught them too well. He just never thought he’d be the one facing them down.
“She’s right, B. No one is going to screw with them in our bar,” Bones said. “You’ve seen to that, Bullet. You’ve built iron bars around that place. You’ve threatened anyone who even thought about causing trouble. You’ve protected the people in that bar for years to come. That’s all you, B. You’ve given a lifetime to our family and then some. Don’t rob Finlay of the life you two deserve.”
“You’ve got a girl now, bro,” Bear said. “You’re right to feel all churned up inside and to want to turn your life inside out for her. I know what that feels like. It hit me like a truck when I fell for Crystal, and it still does every damn time I see her. Go with that feeling, Bullet. You’re not getting any younger, and God knows how you suckered that gorgeous woman into your life, but don’t fuck it up out of some misplaced responsibility.”
Bullet looked away, choked up with emotions.
“Whose hero do you want to be?” Dixie asked again. “Mine and Mom’s? Or Finlay’s? I hope to God you choose the right one, because I’m pretty damn sick of you being my hero.” She waved her hand toward their other brothers and said, “That goes for all of y’all. I could use some space, and God knows getting Bullet out of the bar for a few hours at night would be a great start.” She smiled at Bullet and said, “I love you, but I’m overdosing on being protected lately.”
Bullet shook his head. “Something happens to you or Red, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“The list of things you won’t forgive yourself for is already too long, Bullet. Don’t let losing Finlay be at the top of it,” Bones urged.
“I’d give my life for her,” Bullet said honestly.
“How about living your life with her, son?” Biggs stepped up beside Bones. “That’d be a much-deserved step in the right direction.”
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he said, “Thanks, Pop.”
Biggs nodded, and Red came at Bullet with open arms. “My boy’s growing up.” She hugged him so tight it made him laugh.
“Ma…”
“Shush up, you big oaf,” she said. “Just let me be happy that another of my boys has found the other half of his heart.”
Bullet’s phone rang in his pocket, and his mother released him as he pulled it out. Finlay’s name appeared on the screen, and he put the phone to his ear. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“I left in such a hurry, I forgot the salmon, salads, and dip. They’re in the fridge. Do you have time to run them over to 101 Kastler Street?”
“No problem. Be right there.” He ended the call and threw an arm around Dixie’s shoulder, following the others into the bar. “You think you can get someone to take over from eight to midnight Tuesday and Wednesday? And from five to midnight Friday and Saturday? Someone big and mean?”
“No, but I can get Jed, and I’m sure Fin would go crazy if we hired Isabel.” She smiled and said, “You’re doing the right thing, Bullet, even though I know you have a hard time accepting that. You’ve protected me my whole life. It’s Finlay’s turn, and more importantly, it’s your turn. She loves you, B. I can see it in her eyes.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Bullet was walking through a living room filled with women and baby paraphernalia, where he gazed into Finlay’s gorgeous blue eyes. The women were gathered around Leesa Braden, who was trying to calm her screaming baby girl. Bullet set the dishes on the table by Finlay.
“Thank you so much,” she said, and went up on her toes and kissed his cheek.
“Everything okay?” He eyed the unhappy baby, remembering when Truman had first brought Lincoln and Kennedy home after rescuing them from a crack house where their mother had overdosed. They were scared and fussy, but when Bullet had held them, they’d calmed right down. He didn’t know if it was his size or what, but to this day, those babies were happy when they were in his arms. And Lord knew he loved holding them.
“Leesa’s baby, Avery, has been fussy since she got here. She’s nursing, so she didn’t want to leave her, and the party is for one of her best friends.”
He walked over to the crowd of women, and they parted like a deck of cards. He nodded at Leesa, whom he knew well, as she was married to Cole Braden, one of Beau’s cousins, who lived there in Peaceful Harbor. “Hi, sweetheart. Can I try to calm your baby girl?”
“Bullet? What are you doing here?” Leesa asked.
“Fin’s my girl. She forgot something, and I brought it over for her.” He thrust his hands forward. “Give me your princess so you can enjoy the party.”
“Um, sure, but she’s having a hard time,” Leesa said, and handed him the baby.
He settled the baby over his shoulder and spoke softly to her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Calm down for Uncle Bullet.” He spread his hand over her back, rubbing in slow circles. As he paced the floor, the baby quieted, save for a few whimpers. She smelled as new and fresh as a warm summer’s breeze. “That’s it, li’l princess. That’s a good girl.”
“Oh my gosh,” a brunette woman said. “Who are you?”
“I’ve got twin eight-month-olds who could use a manny, if you’re free,” a petite blonde with wide brown eyes pleaded.
