Page 95 of Love on the Line

“No, thanks.” John gave her another one of his killer smiles, and Wyatt snorted. His chance to poke some fun at the putz. Wyatt sure as hell had taken his shots the night he’d spilled his drink on Anne.

John’s eyes narrowed. “Check out the two bikers who just entered.”

Wyatt twisted in his seat, eyeing the guys headed to the bar. A shot of adrenaline raced through Wyatt’s body, and he balled his hands into fists. “That’s the guy who punched me. The one with the skulls bandana and the Harley Davidson shirt.”

“Recognize the other guy?”

Wyatt frowned. “Didn’t see him well that night. He’s about the right size.”

“Stay calm.”

The steel glint in John’s eyes meant all business now. Wyatt nodded and forced down the urge to throttle the bastards. He had to play by John’s rules.

“Time to call for backup.” John pulled out his phone, a piece of paper, and a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. He typed a text message and then scribbled a note.

“What’s that?” Wyatt squinted, trying to read the writing upside down.

“A little business proposition. I don’t want to confront them at the bar around all their buddies. If they think we want to hire them, they’ll come over here.” His phone vibrated, and he checked the text. “Backup will be here in five minutes.”

Wyatt nodded. Time seemed to freeze as each long second ticked by.

At last, John said, “Roger that.” He met Wyatt’s eyes. “They’re in position, and we’re live.”

He must have been answering them through his mic. A rush of energy flooded Wyatt’s body like it used to before a trick play.

John waved at Trish to get her attention, and she stopped by their table. “Whatcha need?”

He handed her the note. “Can you give this to the guy at the bar wearing the bandana with skulls on it? He’s standing next to a dark-haired, bigger man.”

Trish’s gaze cut to the group of bikers. “That’s Moe Dog in the bandana and Charlie beside him.”

“You know them?” John asked.

“Yeah.” Her nose crinkled like she smelled something foul. “Those two are the worst cheapskates. I’d have to eat dog food for survival if I relied on their tips.”

As Trish left, taking the note with her, John faced Wyatt. “Don’t turn around. I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

“Got it.”

“They’re reading the note. Now Trish is pointing to us.” John gave them a small nod. “Trish just shrugged and walked away.”

Wyatt’s heart thumped harder. Damn his banged-up body. If things got physical, he’d rather be in top shape. Christ, how did John do this shit for a living? “Are they coming over?”

“Looks like it. They’re headed our way. Remember, don’t say anything unless I ask a question and keep your head down.”

A voice came from behind Wyatt. “Never seen you in here before. Who told you about us?”

“Word gets around.” John waved at the empty seats. “Sit down and we can talk.”

Silence.

With them out of his sight, Wyatt had no idea from their expressions what they were thinking.

“We need to check you out first, or tell us who sent you here,” the man said.

Shit. Wyatt’s hands turned clammy. This could all go sideways.

“I’m not tossing names around until I find out if you’re the real deal.” John held his hands up in a suit-yourself gesture. “Job can’t wait. You don’t want it, I’ll move on down my list.”

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