Hunter (Iron Rogues MC #10)

Chapter 1

1

SADIE

T oday was my first real day of work, and I was a weird mixture of excited and nervous. The steering wheel was damp under my palms, my nerves making my hands a little sweaty as I made the twenty-five-minute drive to Country Crust.

It was a gorgeous day with only a few fluffy clouds in the early morning sky, but the nice weather did nothing to soothe the anxious flutter under my ribs. Everything had happened so quickly that I hadn’t really had time to get nervous until now.

This wasn’t a babysitting gig for one of my neighbors or helping out as a volunteer at the library for a few hours each week. I had actually landed a full-time job doing something I loved, but it came with responsibilities, a boss, and customers.

My phone rang through the car speakers, and I grinned when I saw on the dashboard that my mom was calling. Tapping the button on my steering wheel, I answered, “Hey, Mom!”

“Hi, honey! We woke up early so we could call before you started your big day,” she chirped.

Since they were two hours behind me and I had just talked to them last night, their thoughtfulness meant even more to me. “That’s so sweet, thank you.”

“We couldn’t let our baby’s big day pass by without any fanfare.”

She sniffled, so I changed the topic of conversation to avoid her getting all teary over me having my first real job.

“How's the newest campground?” I asked, turning onto the street that led into the heart of Old Bridge, a few towns over from where I lived with my parents in the same house I’d grown up in.

“Your dad tried to hook up the sewer line to the wrong tank,” she informed me with a giggle.

I laughed. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Let's just say he had to take a very long shower afterward,” she added, still laughing. “Poor guy has experienced all the steepest learning curves since we hit the road. The whole thing seemed so much easier from our driveway.”

“I’m sure it did.” Even if the thought of being crammed into an RV for weeks made my skin crawl, hearing about their silly misadventures almost made me wish that I had gone with them. “I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, honey. So much.” My mom’s voice turned wistful as she murmured, “You would've loved Yosemite, you know. The waterfalls were incredible. Your father kept grumbling about the crowds, but I caught him smiling like a kid half the time.”

“Hey!” Dad called out in the background. “I can appreciate nature.”

“Just not the parking lot,” Mom teased as she switched the call to speakerphone.

“Too many damn cars when you’re driving a rig as big as ours,” he muttered.

“But that’s not the part of our trip that you’ll be the most interested in,” my mom blurted. “For dinner last night, we stopped at this little place you'd go nuts for. It’s the oldest restaurant in Arizona, Rock Springs Café. They’ve been open since 1918. Can you believe it?”

“Wow,” I breathed as I turned onto Main Street. “That’s a long time.”

“We tasted for ourselves how they’ve managed to stay in business for so long. They're famous for their pies,” my dad announced. “Best bourbon pecan pie I've ever had. The guy said the secret is the water because the town is right over an aquifer.”

“Please,” Mom huffed. “The mixed berry pie was better.”

“Sadie would have loved the pecan,” Dad insisted.

My mom didn’t cave. “The berry was named Arizona’s centennial pie for a reason.”

Knowing they would bicker back and forth like this for an hour if I let them, I gasped dramatically. “But is it better than my chess pie?”

“Hmm,” my dad hummed, drawing out his answer to tease me.

“Absolutely not,” Mom said loyally. “Your chess pie wins every time, honey.”

I'd made that recipe with her every holiday and birthday since I was tall enough to see the counter. I laughed, warmth blooming in my chest. “I guess I’ll just have to settle the debate myself someday.”

“We should’ve overnighted you a slice,” Dad grumbled good-naturedly.

“Circle around there again when you’re on your way back,” I suggested.

“Great idea,” my mom agreed. “But for now, don’t worry about how delicious that slice of mixed berry pie will be. Instead, focus on making it through your big day. I can’t believe you barely had the chance to start your job search and already found one where you start so quickly.”

Even though they couldn't see me, I shrugged. “Like I explained yesterday, I couldn’t resist stopping into the bakery when I saw their post about the soft opening and somehow walked away with a job to go along with my delicious butter pecan cookie.”

“Because you're a sweetheart who loves baking,” Mom said.

“We're proud of you, honey,” my dad added. “And happy you found something close to home.”

I wasn’t surprised that was the most important part for him. My parents had me later in life, and I was an only child, so they were more than a little overprotective. “Me too.”

“Now go knock ’em dead, sweetheart.”

My parents’ pep talk gave me the courage to climb out of my car and head into the bakery, an hour ahead of its seven o’clock opening. The warm smell of vanilla and sugar wrapped around me instantly. Yeasty bread, sweet icing, and a hint of cinnamon hung in the air, making my stomach rumble. A soft clatter came from the walk-in fridge.

“Good morning, Marcy,” I called.

My new boss stepped into my line of vision, carrying a stack of egg cartons. “Morning, Sadie! Ready to get to work?”

“I sure am.” I beamed a big smile at her. “Where do you want me?”

“After you put your stuff in the office for safekeeping, please get to work on loading the muffins into the display case. Oh and if you see a young guy lingering about, just ignore him. Austin is fixing the leaky air-conditioning.” She laughed and shrugged. “I guess it was too much to ask that the opening go perfectly. But he’ll have it done in a jiffy, so just work around him.”

“Will do.”

After I had added the trays of cookies, brownies, and cupcakes to the shelves next to the muffins, I joined her in the kitchen. “Need any help in here?”

She paused the commercial mixer and asked, “How are you at frosting cakes?”

“Pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.”

I wasn’t normally one to brag, but frosting was one of my favorite things, so I had spent many hours perfecting my skills. Something I proved over the next fifteen minutes. But I didn’t have time to properly appreciate the pretty pink cake that I decorated because I finished only a few minutes before the doors opened.

Just then, a young blond guy popped into the kitchen. “All done, Marcy. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Austin. Tell your dad to send me the bill.”

His curious gaze landed on me, and Marcy quickly introduced us. He was the son of the local hardware store owner and the town’s resident Mr. Fix-it.

He smiled warmly at me and shook my hand. I shifted edgily when he lingered just a little longer than usual.

“Well, we need to get ready to open,” Marcy informed him before ushering him to the back door. She and I headed to the front of the bakery as she explained, “We're keeping things simple this first week. I'll work the register and espresso machine. You stock, serve, and help out wherever. Once the dust settles, I’ll have you help with the baking, too.”

I nodded and tried to sound more confident than I felt when I replied, “Got it.”

“Don't worry, you'll pick it up fast,” she assured me with a smile.

Appreciating her confidence in me, I grinned back at her. “Good. Because if you need someone to bake a hundred cupcakes in an afternoon, I'm your girl. But if you want fancy barista moves, I will definitely need some lessons.”

Marcy laughed. “We'll get there.”

She ran me through the basics quickly—how to use the POS system, where the extra cups and napkins were, and how she wanted the pastries boxed up. It was a lot, but it felt good. Like being here was the perfect fit for me. Except then she said something that made me worry a little.

“And be extra nice to any customer you see wearing an Iron Rogues MC vest.”

My brows drew together. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Her eyes widened. “They’re the motorcycle club that basically owns all of Old Bridge, including this building. I figured with you growing up a few towns over, you’d at least have heard of them before.”

I shook my head, picturing a gang of rough-looking bikers like something out of the movies. “Are they dangerous?”

Marcy shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. If you’re causing trouble around here? Very. For a cute girl like you who’s just baking cookies and minding your business? Nah.”

“Oh good.”

Marcy bumped my shoulder lightly. “Unless one of them falls for you. Then they’re the very best kind of trouble.”

I scoffed at the thought of attracting the attention of a man like she had just described. “I don’t see that happening.”

“You’d be very lucky if it did. Behind the leather and tattoos, those men turn into big teddy bears when they claim their old lady.” She fanned herself with her hand. “And if any of them brings one of the babies in, your ovaries are sure to explode.”