Chapter 6 LIBERATED PIE AND RUNAWAY BALLS
HART
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I’M WATCHING OUT for her, I decide when she struts back to Bucky’s. It has nothing to do with my being unable to pull my gaze off her.
What the hell is she thinking?
The guy ain’t local and looks like trouble.
The solid thwack of pool balls echoes through the vast, open space.
It was a mistake coming here. I wonder if I ducked out the back door, would my brothers even notice once they have their beer, wings, and pie?
A beer slams down in front of me, the frosted glass slick with condensation.
Wheeler plops into the seat across from me, watching me with raised eyebrows. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”
“Nothin’.” I sip the foam spilling over the rim and then take a long drag.
My brother sits back, looking cozy in a seat that I’m sure is pinching his backside. “You look like you just saw your ex-girlfriend marrying your worst enemy.”
“I don’t have an ex.”
Not that he knows about.
My love life’s nothing but one-night stands—fast, forgettable, and far between these days.
Used to be different, back before Dean and Wheeler settled down. We’d hit the road, find some dive where nobody knew our names or our business, and we’d get laid by dawn.
Those days feel like forever ago.
My brother slides a coaster under his drink, and then proceeds to slide one under mine, like it’s going to make a difference on the weathered wood.
“No, but you do have a glower that could curdle milk. What’d I miss?” He pauses. “Biker beat you to someone?”
“This ain’t no damn therapy session,” I growl.
I didn’t tell him shit back in the day, and I sure as hell aren’t about to start now.
My gaze circles back to her, uninvited.
How long can it take to sink a few balls?
Levi drops two baskets of wings on the table. One is already missing half its contents. He hangs his Stetson on a hook outside the booth before he slides in next to Wheeler.
“Why do we look so serious? What’s going on?” He frees the mug of beer wedged under his arm.
“Nothing.” If Wheeler is anything, it’s discreet, respectful, and private.
He doesn’t tell what’s not his to tell. I’ve always admired that in him.
“Looks like the girls talked Jade into coming after the meeting.” Levi tips his chin in her direction and then plucks a wing from the basket.
I’ve never had anything against my brother. Not until he took it into his own hands and saddled up with the enemy. Sometimes my disgust is so raw that I can barely stand to be in the same room as him.
Like now.
When he says Jade’s name so easily and refers to the Fox girls as if they’re just part of his everyday life. That son of a bitch threatened to destroy everything our family built for a Fox girl, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.
Yet, my eyes find Jade.
She’s got that look—the one like she’s focusing on something, but still trying to have fun with it.
“Hope and her sisters were surprising her with a birthday celebration. She’s turning thirty next week.”
I know the exact date of her birthday, but I don’t say it.
“Her birthday reminded us it’s also your—”
Wheeler hits him. “Shut up.”
“Oh fuck.” I begin to stand, but Wheeler catches my arm.
“Ignore him. We’re not here to sing ya a happy birthday. Just have some beer and wings with your brothers.”
I slowly lower myself back down.
“It’s kind of funny if you think about it.” Levi goes at his wings, slopping sauce on his beard like a caveman.
“Her birthday is funny?” Why did I even ask?
I’d rather hit him square in the jaw.
He shakes his head. “No. That she’s older than you.”
Wheeler chuckles.
“Why is that funny?” I don’t really want to know.
Maybe I’m digging for a real reason to pop him one. Lord knows, the thoughts have been on my mind for months. I should’ve poked him with the cattle prod.
“Because you’re used to being the oldest and in charge.” The sauce hangs off his beard like a damn animal. “The boss man. It’s no wonder it never worked out between you two.”
There is no “you two,” but I don’t say it. I ain’t in the mood to defend myself all bloody night.
“I’m not the boss man,” I growl instead.
My brothers crack up in laughter.
I grunt, half-sipping my beer, biting back the urge to tell them to shut the hell up.
Dean rushes to our table and gives me a shove with his knee. “Move over.”
I glance down, narrowing my eyes at the pie he’s crouching over, like it’s some secret stash. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Hurry up.” He nudges me again, this time with the heel of his boot, and hard enough to get my attention.
My jaw tenses. “Dean—”
He doesn’t give a damn, though. “Move over or get the hell up so I can get in.”
I’m about to protest, but then I hear Levi snicker. “Told you. Bossy as hell,” he mutters to Wheeler under his breath.
I get up.
Dean slides into the booth, pie in hand, crouching to keep it hidden until he drops it onto the table with a grunt.
“A whole pie, huh?” Wheeler eyes the sugary surface of the pecan pie.
“Yeah, and no candles. I listened.” Dean yanks my shirt right out of my jeans. “Sit down. Now.”
“Piss off.”
As I slide into the seat, Bucky’s voice cuts through the noise.
“Dean! What the hell is that?”
Dean waves at the older man. “Nothing over here, sir.” He glares at us, pulling the pie closer to him and out of view.
Bucky’s face turns beet-red, striding toward our table. “You know damn well there’s NO food allowed in here from that old hags’ bar.”
“Did you get that from Kiwi’s?” I demand.
Dean shrugs. “He was out of pie.” He grabs a napkin and covers the pie.
“Fuck. Brilliant,” I mutter, about to remind him of Bucky’s bar rules when I catch Levi smirking in a way that silently calls me bossy.
“You’ve got some serious balls, Kid, bringing that into my bar.” Bucky limps closer, that uneven step, thump, scrape, giving the old man’s bad knee away.
“Bucky might smash that pie before you get a chance to eat it.” Wheeler reaches across the table, flicks the napkin with his fork, and dives straight into the pie.
Dean flashes a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a pie totally smashed.”
“Dude. Seriously?” Levi groans. “Can you not sexualize the dessert one time?”
The sound of a pool ball snapping against the floor breaks the chatter in both bars. Every local freezes at the familiar sound, knowing what’s coming next.
Bucky halts and rotates toward the thunk.
The pool ball rolls with a hollow rattle across the boards, straight toward the hole in the wall.
“Son of a bitch.” Bucky’s crooked stride picks up speed, boots thudding down like war drums.
He’s not fast enough.
Kiwi plucks the rogue ball off her polished floor.
“That’s mine, dammit Kiwi!”
“Finder keepers, crustbucket.” Kiwi turns slowly, holding up the eight ball with a mock-inspecting eye. “Mm. This one’s got a nice scuff. Adds character.”
“Get your hands off my balls.”
Dean chokes on his mouthful of pie. “Balls,” he says with a full mouth.
I’d whack him upside the head if he weren’t leaning so close against my side.
Kiwi strolls to a glass vase on the floor, as tall as the counter behind. It already holds a colorful mix of pool balls. They’re all Bucky’s, stolen one way or another over a shit load of years.
She slowly lowers onto the top of the pile. “Wouldn’t want it to feel lonely.”
Bucky jabs a finger in the air. “You’re going to regret that.”
“Doubt it.”
He grumbles about barbed wire and new drywall, limping back behind the counter, and forgetting about Dean’s contraband.
And for perfect timing, the front door swings open, and the crowd from the town hall meeting comes rushing in, loud and restless, flooding the bar with noise, smoke, and small-town politics—aka gossip.
Dean slides the pie to the center of the table. “You’re welcome. And no happy birthday, ‘cause we all know you stopped celebratin’ it when you blew out your knee and your dreams limped off the field with you.”
“Asshole.” Wheeler kicks Dean under the table loud enough that it vibrates.
“You’re just in time, ‘cause Hart’s about to tell us why he never made a move on Jade.” Levi digs out a piece of pie and places it in his wings basket. The thick syrup slides out from under the crust over the wings.
“Oh, he’s made the move.” Dean offers me pie.
“No.”
“To the pie or the move?”
“Both.”
“I think he’s afraid that Jade will take the reins.” Levi washes down a bite of pie with a swig of beer.
Dean raises his eyebrows. “That’s not it. We all know he’s into that sort of thing. And we don’t judge.”
I’d ask what he’s talking about, but I already know it’s the rumors. It’s always the damn rumors.
“But maybe it’s confined to the bedroom?” Dean tilts his head at me, but I don’t look. “I get it. You like to keep your submission in the bedroom, but outside of it? Too much risk. You’re all dominant.”
I hate my brothers.
“Did the meeting go well?” Wheeler asks, changing the topic, but only to another one I’m not interested in discussing.
“Fine.” I turn the mug in slow circles, the amber liquid swirling.
“Fine?” Levi tears into a wing, stripping it clean and chewing on it.
“Yeah, fine.”
“No details?” He drags a napkin across his jaw, missing half the mess.
He doesn’t even notice, too focused on his next bite.
“What else do you want? A play-by-play? If so, you should’ve had your ass in there. The bottom line is, everything is ready and everyone is lined up to go.”
More baskets of wings hit the table, a pitcher of beer follows, and then another glass thuds against the table.
“Well, uh... about that.”
When did Beck get here?
We are two brothers short of all the Wilde siblings being under one roof. Which usually ends in punches and brawling, just like Jade said.
He nods like he wants me to scoot over.
Getting stuck in the middle of these two? Not happening.
I stand, and he slides in; the denim of his jeans rustles as he stretches his legs out beneath the table.
A pool ball smacks into another with a sharp clink.
I glance over.
Lord, I have zero control.
Solid shot.