Page 16 of Enforcing the Rules

The man I presumed to be his brother pulled a cigarette from his mouth and stared at the glowing tip. “I hear grease fires are a real hazard in the restaurant business.” He gestured with the cigarette to my mother’s café. “Hate to see this place go up.”

It was a threat, plain and simple, and I knew he was serious. They both were.

“Message received,” I gritted out, hatred simmering in my gut and mixing with the fear.

Ruiz smiled and toyed with the tassels on my shirt, his eyes on my breasts. “I like you, Chica. I kind of hope you don’t come up with the balance.”

I cringed, turning my face away.

The rumble of two motorcycles pulling to the stoplight drew my eyes and turned Ruiz’s head. I recognized the patches on their backs. The Royal Bastards MC, the motorcycle club that called this town home. I’d seen them ride past my mother’s café a bunch of times over the years. I’d stand with a carafe in my hand and watch them ride down the street, the sound of their pipes echoing off the buildings. But in all the years I’d worked here, they’d never entered Connie’s Corner Café.

The riders turned their heads, shades aimed our way.

Before I realized what was happening, one of them roared off the light and made a turn, parking right next to my car. The other one followed suit, sticking with his fellow Bastard.

Ruiz and his brother stepped back as the two men dismounted and approached.

I swallowed, something zinging through my body, but I couldn’t name it. Was it fear, anticipation, relief?

They were both tall and had broad shoulders. Their leather cuts made them look tough, much tougher than Ruiz and his brother.

The first one pulled his riding glasses off, exposing gorgeous gray eyes pinned on Ruiz. “Café’s closed. Beat it.”

“I’m talking to the lady,” Ruiz replied.

“Don’t look like she wants to talk to you.” The biker took a step closer, and Ruiz backed up.

I studied the man. He had dark hair and a beard. His vest had a patch over his chest that said Enforcer. I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded badass.

“We were finished here, anyway.” Ruiz shoved the thick envelope in his pocket and grinned. “I’ll see you soon, Chica.” Then he strode back to his car.

The Enforcer watched until they drove away, the driving bass fading around the corner with the squeal of tires.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“No problem.” His eyes slid over me, then lifted to the café. “You work here?”

I shook my head.

His eyes locked on mine. Silence filled the space, and stupid me felt the need to fill it.

“My mother owns it.” I don’t know what possessed me to tell him that.

“What’s your name, doll?”

“Kate.”

“Hi, Kate. They call me Utah.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. I studied his face. He truly did have the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen, and a square jaw and perfect nose to go with them. His neck was long, and so were his arms and legs, reminding me how tall he was.

I wasn’t short, and it was rare that I ever had to look up to a man, but Utah had me tilting my head.

His fellow Royal Bastard retreated to his bike, and Utah took a step closer.

“Maybe I’ll see you around again, Kate.”

“Maybe.” God, I hoped so. There was something about this man that called to me. He was the epitome of danger, but right at that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted to climb on his bike and ride away with him.

---