CHAPTER THREE
Layla
The rush of the bar never stops as the dinner crowd transforms into the drinking crowd. Our dance floor opens up at eight and fills right away under the soft glow of the string lights.
I head to work behind the bar as two more servers come in to take over the late shift.
I get on with Tyson, who’s the manager and weekend bartender.
He’s funny and kind. He sort of reminds me of my older brother Dell, and we’ve gotten into a flow.
He takes care of his end, I take care of mine, and sometimes we meet in the middle.
We manage the hectic bar with ease most weekends.
People come and go as the night continues, but the one nagging constant is the three Hounds of Hell members sitting in the corner.
Aside from their periodic laughter and the consumption of an absolute feast, you’d never know they were there.
Unless you were me and could physically feel the eyes of their leader on you.
I duck down and grab a Corona from the cooler beside the overstock. I crack it open and pass it over the bar to a regular and take another order from a man beside him.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he yells over the music. “Name’s Ryan,” he adds, not that I asked.
I nod and smile at him. “Thanks, what can I get you?”
“A drink for me and a drink for you?”
Ryan, if that’s his real name, is a business type, wearing dress pants and a button-down. He looks like he’s lost his jacket and tie at some point since he arrived—as well as his wedding ring, but the tan line is still present on the ring finger of his left hand.
“I don’t drink while I work,” I say, taking the order of the woman beside him while he takes his time with his drink choice. I pass her a glass of house white and glance back at Ryan.
“Have you decided?” I ask.
“I’ve decided I don’t want to stop looking at you, so if it takes me longer to decide …
” He offers me a cheesy little grin, and I must be out of sorts tonight because I’m losing patience.
Fast. I try my best not to roll my eyes, and instead glance over his shoulder at the sergeant and his crew still sitting there in the corner.
My stomach drops as I notice those eyes on me, glancing up over the rim of his glass.
Then the sergeant turns to face me fully and holds me with his gaze for a beat before he stands up.
Probably ready to leave. I will myself to look away and offer Ryan a very fake smile, ignoring his attempt to hit on me.
“We have some excellent local craft beer—”
“I’ve also decided that I’d like to know what makes you smile.
I saw you smile earlier.” He cuts me off, flashing me another grin and thick-lashed blue eyes.
I sigh deeply, bracing myself to shut this man down as politely as possible.
Then Ryan reaches down and grabs my wrist as I set a napkin on the bar.
My body physically rejects his touch and I tug my arm back.
“It feels like … well, it almost feels like the heavens start to open every time—”
“Van Morrison?” a deep voice asks, sounding almost annoyed. “That shit works for you?”
I flinch and turn to face the sergeant, realizing he stood just to come over here.
“You don’t pick up a woman like that, squid, especially when she’s just trying to do her job, yeah?
” The sergeant turns his furrowed gaze intently to me, leaning into the bar and, in turn, pushing Ryan aside.
One large hand reaches out to circle my wrist. I look down and notice that the tattoo of a chain on his right hand almost looks like a bracelet of sorts.
His thumb grazes the soft skin of my inner arm.
This touch doesn’t repel me; this touch makes me weak.
I break out in goosebumps, and he immediately pins my eyes with an intense stare.
“Me and the boys are gonna stay a little later and rack some, babe. We’ll need another round of Hellbender.”
My mouth pops open and so does Ryan’s. Even I will admit this outlaw is devastatingly gorgeous in the most unconventional way, and for some reason, it seems he’s pretending we’re a couple?
I tip my head to the side and narrow my eyes at the way he speaks. His tone is almost affluent, unexpected, and I can’t make sense of it as I look from Ryan back to the man’s eyes, which are making me feel very unsteady. I pull my arm away.
“And whatever your new friend here is about to have, add that to my tab too,” he says, flashing a gorgeous straight smile—one that doesn’t quite reach his vibrant eyes. It somehow only serves to make him even more threatening.
“T-thanks man,” Ryan stutters with a cautious smile. “I’ll take a whiskey sour. Sorry … I didn’t know she was taken—”
“I’m not taken,” I interject. That anger I was looking for when he came up to the bar has finally arrived. Who the hell does he think he is?
The sergeant shoots a warning glance at me.
“I promise I won’t hurt him. Now that he’s apologized …
” he says pointedly, but his words are more of a threat than an assurance with the wicked smirk he wears just for me.
I feel almost hot with the way he’s publicly claiming me—the shameless way he seems to think he has the right to pretend I’m his as I make Ryan’s drink.
I set the whiskey sour on the bar and Ryan makes a move to grab it, but the Sergeant is faster.
“Oh … just one thing,” he says to Ryan as he passes the drink over to him.
“You’re going to fuck off now, and be sure never to look in this direction again, unless you’d like to know what it feels like to have your eyes plucked from their sockets. Understand?”
He clamps his large hand on Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan almost buckles as his eyes widen.
I instantly know as well as Ryan does that this man wouldn’t hesitate to do exactly what he threatens.
Then he lets go with a clap to Ryan’s shoulder and it somehow makes me feel bold, despite our workplace mantra that “the customer is always right.” This customer doesn’t have the right to hit on me.
“Actually, two things …” I turn to Ryan, a hand on my hip. “Put your wedding ring back on, you look like a jackass.”
Ryan looks between us for all of one second before he disappears without a backward glance, faster than I’ve ever seen a man scurry away from a bar in my life.
I can’t help but feel the rush of just speaking my mind for once.
That felt damn good. I let a small smile slip onto my face when I meet the Sergeant’s eyes, and he smirks back.
“You’re welcome. But I really do want those Hellbenders,” he commands with a gleam in his eyes and a knock on the bar top. He turns to leave but I stop him. I spread my arms out wide on the bar, leaning in so he can hear me, feeling almost high as his eyes narrow and he comes closer.
“I’m not available for you either, and I’m not thanking you for acting like a Neanderthal. I’m a grown woman, and I’ve worked here for months.” I look up at him pointedly. “I can handle myself.”
The sergeant spreads his own arms outward, matching my stance and leans in so his face is inches from mine as he looks me up and down—slowly, hotly, as his incredible scent washes over me.
“Can you now?”
“Absolutely,” I bite out in response. He’s overwhelming, to put it mildly, but I can’t let this man know he ruffles my feathers even one bit.
Something tells me he wouldn’t respect me if I faltered, but as his eyes trail over me, something also tells me that I’d be shockingly down to be disrespected by him.
This man actually smirks. “Those Hellbenders, yeah?” he says, swallowing me with his eyes.
I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and turn to reach on my tiptoes to grab the Hellbender off the second-highest shelf.
When I turn back and pull four glasses out from under the bar, tingles erupt all over my skin, because my sergeant’s gaze has changed from the playful one he had before. This gaze is ruinous and almost hungry.
My sergeant? What the hell, Layla?
I ignore it as best I can and pour his four shots, then slide them across the bar. When the last shot reaches him, our fingers brush, sending a trail of goosebumps up my forearm, just as his friend, the blond, slides in beside him.
“Ax, fuck, what’s taking so long? It’s your shot …” he says, looking at me, his words trailing into a grin. Ax? I’m not surprised his name is Ax. Isn’t that what all these bikers’ names are like? Ax? Razor? Tank?
“Oh … got it.” His gaze bounces between us. “Still hungry.” He chuckles. Ax backhands the blond man in the chest as he takes three of the shots in his own hands and leaves Ax’s with him.
“Your name is Ax?” I ask without thinking, as I wipe down the bar.
“That’s what my men call me,” he answers, his eyes never wavering as he takes his drink.
“Like a lumberjack? That’s the most original offering your men could come up with?
” I blurt out. Ax looks at me for a split second like he almost doesn’t know what to say.
Then that same amusement I saw earlier lines his eyes.
He brings his shot up to his plush lips and knocks it back in one go, never breaking eye contact.
I watch him as he licks his lips after and uses one ring finger to swipe along the bottom one.
I swallow as he sets the glass down on the bar and waits, spreading his hands wide, his muscled arms flexing.
I raise an eyebrow. The audacity.
“Would you like that filled, Your Majesty?” I ask.
He nods once with the hint of a smirk. I lift the bottle up and pause.
“I don’t enjoy being told what to do with just a look,” I say hotly. I should probably tread carefully with him; I have no idea who he is, but I also get the strange sense that he wouldn’t hurt me, and right now he’s just pissing me off, wasting my time, costing me both customers and tips.
A line is forming behind and beside him, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care because he just walks around everywhere like he owns the fucking place.
“Filled. Please.” His emerald eyes burn as he assesses my expression while I pour the bourbon.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I ask him as though he’s a small child to whom I’m teaching a lesson.
“You’re not afraid of me,” he notes with a curious fascination as I finish pouring the amber liquid. I let out a small laugh.
“Ax?” I ask. His name on my lips feels as dangerous as the weapon it symbolizes, and I slide his drink to him.
“I’ve been through more than you can guess, and it takes a lot to scare me.
” I look him up and down. “But if scaring me is your thing, by all means, do your best, babe.” I offer him the same nickname he called me and my lips pop on the B, making my words sound sort of like an invitation.
Instead of walking it back I continue, my body tingling.
“Oh, and if you happen to cost me any more tips tonight, then it’s you who should be afraid,” I add before looking away, straightening the glasses under the bar.
I know nothing about this man, but I know I can’t just stand still in front of him or he’ll notice the trembling in my hands.
Ax smiles wide and tips his head back, a deep rumble of laughter vibrating through his chest, and as I swipe a ten-dollar bill left on the bar from earlier his hand comes down over mine.
His palm is warm and his fingers are thick and wide enough to make my hand disappear under his.
It’s dominant and … settling. I try not to let him see me shudder as I feel the power behind it. The warning.
He’s close enough for me to smell his delicious scent again and it’s clouding my senses along with those eyes. Heaven mixed with the beckoning call of the devil himself.
“You use your pretty mouth as a weapon,” he muses.
“But that won’t deter me. In fact, it only serves to tempt me, so be careful what you wish for.
” His voice is low, stunning me. The way he looks at me almost makes me feel like I’m someone else entirely.
I don’t quite know who she is, but the feeling spurs me on.
“You have no idea what I do or do not wish for, Ax,” I rasp, almost breathless.
“Mmm,” he hums. “I think I do, little dove.”
He gives my hand a light squeeze before backing away and disappearing into the heavy crowd with his freshly filled glass. I blink and blow out a breath, quickly working to serve the line that formed around him, trying to keep my head straight the whole time.
What the hell was that? Little dove? I’m still trembling as I look in his direction. Shit, did that just turn me on?
A few minutes later, when the line is finally tamed, I motion to Tyler at the other end of the bar that I’m sneaking out back for a few minutes.
“Can you bring some limes up when you come back?” he calls out.
“Sure thing,” I answer, just trying to get out of there as the storm rages outside. It has nothing on the one that raged in Ax’s eyes when I challenged him. Just the thought sends my heart racing.
Damn. I definitely need that break now.