Property of Jinx (Kings of Anarchy MC: Minnesota #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

JINX

She’s been staring at me for a solid ten minutes. Legs crossed and lithe leg swinging as she taps her foot in the air, seated out front of Joey’s barber shop.

Which is the first indication that this could only be trouble.

Considering the old bigot refuses to cut women’s hair, it means that she waits for a man. Or a child. Maybe both. Any one of those options brings complications.

Every fucking time.

Women like her are the reason I gave up dating in the civilian world.

Women like her are the reason I steer clear of the club girls, too.

They always seem like fun—until they aren’t.

And then it’s a month of fucking Sundays, undoing the drama that could have been avoided if I just kept my dick in my pants to begin with.

The sun beats down on her tanned skin, a ball cap pulled low to shield her smoky eyes.

Caramel blonde waves fall over her shoulders, arms folded beneath her generous tits.

She’s a looker—I’ll give her that. But that’s usually the problem, isn’t it?

I pocket my phone, figuring I’ll finish catching up on the group thread later, and get off my bike.

Her shrewd gaze follows every movement as I swing my leg over and strike boots to the ground.

The bell over the barber shop door chimes, yet she doesn’t falter. Doesn’t look away. The woman’s dedicated to her cause—that’s for sure.

“You got somethin’ you need to say, darlin’?” Call them out on their bullshit and catch them off guard. Nine times out of ten, they’re all bravado until confronted, and then they’re as quiet as a church mouse.

“Perhaps.” She traps her bubblegum pink lip between her teeth and raises her chin to do a slow take. “You give rides on that thing?”

Turns out the woman is the preacher’s cat. All sass and swagger.

“Not unless I plan on fuckin’ them.” I run a hand through my hair and question my reasoning for opening my goddamn mouth.

So not in the mood for this shit today. Maybe I should have parked the damn bike elsewhere?

If her pissed off old man comes out those doors and assumes things are what they ain’t, then a glossy black Harley will be the first flag for his rage.

Can’t be fucked putting the damn thing in the shop for repairs—again.

The woman rises to her feet in my periphery and slowly crosses the wide sidewalk, fingertips shoved in the too-small pockets for her even smaller cut-off shorts. “You got a helmet for me, then?”

“Nope.” Flawless skin and long lashes, the woman’s a knockout, for sure. But like I said, I ain’t here looking for complications.

She staggers back a step when I brush past; the rejection seems to catch her off guard. “You got a problem, or something?”

I wince at her question. She doesn’t know. Simply a poor choice of words in an even shittier situation.

“Do you?” I don’t turn around as I walk. Don’t need to. Have no plans of making this conversation last. Felt it in my gut when I rolled out of bed this morning that it’d be a fucked up day, and she only reinforces that feeling by stalking me.

A sigh huffs behind my left shoulder. “Guess you are all assholes like I was told.”

“Guess we are.” What else did she expect?

Her footsteps track me toward the municipal building. “You got an ol’ lady? Is that it?”

“Nope.”

“Some sweetbutt you’re in love with who hopes to be one?”

“Nope.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

I come to an abrupt stop at the base of the stone steps.

I’ve never found the need to justify my decisions to anyone, let alone some five-foot something mouth who can’t read the fucking room.

The woman scuffs her small, imitation leather boots in her haste not to crash into me.

“My problem is everyone assumes that because I’m a man, and I’m in an MC, that all I want to do is fuck the first pretty thing with tits and a cunt that flashes eyes at me.

” Her gaze widens at my tirade, but she holds her ground.

“I ain’t interested in you. Actually, no.

I am interested in something about you, and that’s who the hell you are since I ain’t seen you ‘round here before.”

“You know everyone in this town, do you?”

“Mostly. Yeah.” Comes with the territory when you’ve never been out of the area more than a handful of times your entire life. Seasons change, people come and go, and you’re there to watch it all.

“I’m visiting for the fall if you must know.” The bombshell lifts her chin, arms folded over her generous rack this time. “My brother and his family.”

Fuck’s sake. Single and searching. Definite trouble.

“Well, let me give you some advice,” I say, leaning toward her a little. “You see anyone wearing this around town.” I thumb my cut. “Walk the other way. We don’t need your complication.”

Her amber eyes narrow, lips thinning. “You sure like making a lot of assumptions about people you don’t know.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that not the whole point of our conversation? You making assumptions about people you don’t know?”

She stays quiet. Finally.

“You enjoy your stay now, yeah?” I flash the woman my best smile and then turn for the building, shoulders tense as I await her argument.

To my relief, it never comes. Hand on the timber door, I glance behind me and find her halfway back to the seat outside the barber shop.

Thank fuck for that. I said I’d come to town and do the errand.

I said it didn’t bother me. Fuck knows I needed something to do other than make myself physically ill watching our president, Chaos, simp for his woman, Vanessa.

Nobody else willingly put their hand up to do it.

But the moment I backed the bike into a park and laid eyes on her, I knew there were other places I’d rather be.

The door jerks away from my touch, startling me from my bitter spiral. Shrewd blue eyes meet mine, and a furrow forms on Mariana’s brow. “May I?” Vanessa’s best friend and Temperance’s star realtor gestures past me with her chin, indicating I need to move from where I block her way.

Like the petty asshole I am, I turn sideways and leave her the narrowest path I can. “You may.”

Her chest rises, a labored breath pulled into her lungs. “You know, I used to think you were better than the others.” So did I. “But you sure love to play the part, don’t you?”

“So I’ve heard.”

Her head tilts a little as she studies me.

“You gonna leave, or are we gonna hold everyone up while we chit-chat in the doorway?”

Mariana glances behind her into the foyer of the council chambers. “Nobody waiting, Jinx. I’d say we’ve got all day. But I’ve got places to be, so can we stick a pin in this heart-to-heart?” Her eyes flick to the side, eyebrows lifting, to urge me to move back a step.

The woman is tough. Hardened by the world and too stubborn to let it get her down. I respect that.

“Working?” I nod toward the envelope in her hand.

“Permits for a client. Yes.”

I step to the side.

Mariana offers a polite smile and descends to the sidewalk before she fires the parting shot. “You know, it wouldn’t harm you to be happy for them.”

And there it is. “What do you mean?”

She turns side-on and lays a pitiful stare on me. “You know what I mean. Ever since he took an interest in her, you’ve been a bear with a sore head toward Vanessa. Like it’s her fault Chaos doesn’t spend as much time playing in your little boys’ club anymore.”

“You think I’m jealous?”

“Not what I said, but if that’s the first thing that comes to mind for you, then perhaps.”

Bitch. “Anything else you want to harass me about? ‘Cause I’ve got shit I need to do too.” Like take a long fucking ride anywhere there aren’t people.

Mariana sighs as I step toward the door. “Sure. Whatever.”

Fuck her. What would she know? Married to a guy for his money, not love.

I am happy for Chaos. What the hell does she want me to do?

Throw him a fucking party to prove it? Have a goddamn sleepover so we can paint each other’s nails and gossip about his woman?

Saying I’ve been an asshole toward Vanessa…

We ain’t best friends. Why fucking make out like we are?

What I’m not happy with is the way he’s sucked under her spell every time she’s around. Hell, even when she ain’t there. His head’s not with the club like it used to be, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.

My vision takes a moment to adjust to the dimly lit foyer when I step out of the sunshine, the heavy door swinging gently closed behind me.

Temperance isn’t a huge town, but you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise, given the state of the municipal offices.

Veined marble floor, polished hardwood reception desk, Romanesque columns that frame the grand foyer, and lines and lines of framed portraits on the wall listing every man and woman who served the area over the years.

I draw a deep breath and shift my gaze from the carved horse sculpture in the middle of the foyer and step around the rearing stallion toward the receptionist. All we need is the final approval and letter of completion for the barn we commissioned from the Amish.

A simple ask, but old Janis made it a fucking month-long process.

No, they don’t have them. Yes, they do. Didn’t we already get a copy from the inspector?

No, we can’t have a physical copy printed and stamped for the Amish. Yes, we can.

I brace myself for more bullshit and set both palms wide on the counter.

“Sorry.” The frazzled apology comes from the lower left. “I’ll be right with you.”

A woman crouches on the floor as she hastily shoves spilled papers into a pile. A mass of dark brown waves sits piled atop her head in a messy bun, a loose, patterned blouse hanging from her frame over stonewash jeans.

I shift my weight to one elbow, a lazy smile spreading across my lips. “No hurry, love.” This sure as shit ain’t Janis, and I can’t say I’m all that sore about it.

Maybe the errand has some perks after all?

“Thank you.” She swears under her breath as the pile threatens to cascade from her hands again, and shoves to her feet to set the wayward stack on nearby desk space. “How can I help?”

The new receptionist spins around, a broad smile showing perfect white teeth.

I stutter my next breath. The hell?

I wasn’t lying when I said I know most people around these parts, but her face is the last one I expected to see.