Page 4 of Fox (Road Rebels MC 4)
I almost pulled away. Until my stomach growled.
Parking beside a beat-up motorcycle, I headed into the bar. The atmosphere was smoky, which meant I was in for a wild ride. The whole of Nevada had banned smoking in establishments like this years ago, so being in a place that didn’t abide by the rules meant there were things I needed to learn about the culture. I looked around for a place to sit, but nothing seemed appealing. The booths were dark, which was dangerous for a single woman. All of the tables were taken up by one or two bodies scattered about. Which left the bar.
The only illuminated spot that seemed safe for a woman out on the town on her own.
I saw a man sitting there with his back to me. His shoulders were massive, and his arms were strong. His muscles were tugging at his leather jacket as he sat hunched over the bar. He was scarfing down some wings, minding his own business as I approached the bar.
Maybe he could give me an honest review of the things.
“Those any good?”
I slid into a seat next to him as he slowly panned his gaze towards mine. I was taken with how good looking he was. His neck was covered with a tattoo sleeve, and by the looks of his left hand, his arm was as well. My eyes danced all over him, taking in his ocean blue eyes and his dark brown hair that was mussed with gel. His jawline was strong, and his cheekbones were prominent. He had these thin little lips that curled into a cheeky grin. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from him, even though he was the kind of man I stayed away from.
The kind of man I could see my father defending in court.
As the man raked his eyes up and down my figure, the bartender approached me. He was standing there, waiting for my order as I waited for the man to answer my question. I really did want to know how the wings were. I wasn’t going to waste my time with them if they weren’t any good.
But judging by the number of skinned chicken bones on his plate, I ventured to assume they were good.
“Best in town,” the man said.
“Oh, good. I was looking for a decent basket of wings tonight,” I said.
“What flavor?” the bartender asked.
I turned towards him in my seat just in time to catch him staring at my tits.
“If you look me in the eye, I’ll tell you,” I said.
I watched the bartender grit his teeth as I smiled coyly at him.
“I’d like twenty wings with whatever your house sauce in, a ton of blue cheese dressing, and whatever beer goes well with your house sauce,” I said.
“Twenty wings?” the bartender asked.
“Yep. And forget the vegetables on the side. No need to taint my meal with those,” I said.
The man beside me let lose a chuckle that caught my attention.
“Not a vegetable fan?” he asked.
“Not carrots and celery. I enjoy things like brussel sprouts and tomatoes,” I said.
“Sounds just as terrible.”
“Not when you put them all in soup. That’s the only way I eat my vegetables anyway.”
“Mushy and hot?” he asked.
“Sounds like my type.”
I glanced his way, and I could see him studying me again. His eyes danced along the line of my lips before grazing up to my eyes. He really was a striking man. His features were perfectly set on his face. They were strong but radiant. And his body was grand. Even with him hunched over the bar like he was, I could tell he stood tall.
His presence loomed over me like a cloudy nighttime sky as the bartender placed my beer in front of me.
“Here you go. Your wings will be up in about twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
“Sir?”
I turned my head back towards the man sitting next to me as he chuckled again.
“What?” I asked. “Can’t a woman be polite to someone who’s serving her?”
“Just don’t hear that word in bars like this much,” he said.
“Just because none of you guys have manners doesn’t mean I don’t have to use mine,” I said.
“Who said I don’t have manners?”
“Pretty sure you lumped yourself in with your own personal statement there,” I said. “I’m Harlow, by the way.”
“Nice name.”
“You can thank my father for it,” I said.
“Not really into meeting fathers.”
“Don’t worry. You didn’t strike me as the type… sir.”
A grin ticked the man’s cheek, pulling me into his personal space even more. Even though the conversation was topical, it was nice. Yes, he was someone I made a point to stay away from. Someone my father would easily defend in a court of law any day of the week. But he was so attractive, and his chuckle fell from his lips with ease. I wanted to know more about the man sitting beside me.
Even if I never saw him again.
“Asher,” he said.
“Hmm?” I asked.
“The name’s Asher. But my friends call me ‘Fox.’”
“Fox, huh? Because you’re handsome or sly?” I asked.
“Probably a bit of both.”
“What makes you sly?” I asked.
“I have ways of getting what I want, even if someone tells me I can’t have it,” he said smirking.
“Interesting. I take it that’s a point of pride for you?”
“And pleasure, depending on how it’s used.”
His eyes locked with mine and I felt a shiver ricochet up my spine.
“So, Harlow. What brought you out tonight?” Fox asked.
“The need for a decent basket of wings,” I said. “Yourself?”
“Needed some time to think.”
“The bar helping you do that?” I asked.
“Yep. A bit distracted now, though.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“The conversation went from internal to external.”
“Well, don’t let me hold you up from your plans of internal dialogue, Mr. Fox. I’m just going to eat me some wings and then head home.”
“I can put the conversation on hold,” he said.
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of you coming out tonight?” I asked.
“Not really.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because part of me came looking to blow off some steam.”
“And I’m helping you do that?” I asked.
“Maybe, if you play your cards right.”
“Twenty wings in our house buffalo sauce with four blue cheese dippers. Enjoy,” the bartender said.
I smelled the wings as he slid them over to me, but my eyes didn’t move. Fox’s piercing blue stare was holding mine as my toes burned with fire. I needed to stop this. I needed to stay away from men like this. They wanted one thing. Expected one thing. And I knew this. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. With the leather jacket and the tattoos and the way his primal stare undressed me as I sat at the bar, I knew he was trouble.
Men like this always were.
And yet, I couldn’t pull myself away. It was like watching an imminent train wreck while hoping it still wouldn’t occur. I felt my nipples pebbling behind my bra as I turned toward my food, hoping the smell of the wings would distract my swirling mind.
But it didn’t.
“You gonna eat those?” Fox asked.
“Yep,” I said.
