39. Chapter 39
Jase liked how Lindsey’s face changed when he told her she was beautiful.
He didn’t like the way every asshole in the joint was eyeing her, thinking the same damn thing. And worse.
Bikes, babes, black leather. He’d add Hog Heaven to his list of places worth stopping at a second time. These were his people.
He’d never wanted to punch so many of them in the face as he did watching Lindsey bend over the pool table and a couple dozen ogling pricks zeroed in on her ass.
Jase was also impressed by those jeans hugging her slight curves. Christ, when she pulled down the front of her shirt and pushed her breasts together—
She finally stopped talking about getting on a bus.
It only took enough beer and shots for Jase to lose count. They were way past the one drink she committed to anyway.
And he was way past pretending he was finding creative ways to touch her just to distract her from Graham leaving. That he wasn’t one shot of whiskey away from crossing the very fuzzy line between them reminding him why she was here.
And why she wouldn’t be tomorrow.
His hip buzzed. He pulled her phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. It wasn’t his business to see who was calling, but he’d be damned if he’d hand it over for Graham.
“Your dad,” he said.
She snatched the phone and said, “He’ll be so happy to hear the news. You know how much he loved Graham.”
Jase remembered something she’d said in New Orleans about his brother and suitcases.
The phone rang out and Lindsey pressed the screen a few times, probably checking for new messages. He regretted giving it back to her when she sagged.
“I need some air.” She pushed her pool stick into Jase’s chest. Without looking at him, Lindsey wandered through the tables, the path thick with bikers in leather cuts and club insignias, men of every age and color rubbernecking to watch her walk out the front door.
Satisfied no one followed her, Jase returned their pool cues to the rack, finished his beer, and carried their empties up to the bar.
“Another. And a shot of whiskey,” he told the bartender.
Jase, it’s over. It’s been over for a while.
He glanced at the door. It felt over now. He didn’t know why it was a problem. He meant what he said earlier—he liked having her around. But enjoying her company wasn’t enough of a reason for her to stay.
Dad’s attorney had said…something. Jase’s memory snagged on it when he thought about Lindsey leaving, but his brain was dancing a jig on the bar with the fresh round the bartender set in front of him, and he couldn’t slow it down.
The music in the place kept changing. Classic rock one minute, old country the next.
Now some outlaw shit rattled the walls and sent the testosterone through the roof.
He should get Lindsey out of there in case things got rough.
She had fucking trembled underneath him when he helped her shoot the eleven ball, as if it had been so damn long since anyone touched her properly, her body flew into overdrive. What would she do if he got his hands on her bare skin?
He dragged his palm down his face. It did nothing to clear the image of Lindsey naked from his head.
“Hey, buddy.”
A man with spiky yellow hair and beard to match and two full-sleeve tattoos leaned on the stool next to him.
“Your friend,” the man sneered. “She free?”
Jase checked the door—Lindsey hadn’t come back in—and straightened. “Why?”
He didn’t need to ask. He fucking knew. But he needed a minute to count how many of his boys were at the table behind him, ready to back him up if Jase said the wrong thing.
He didn’t recognize their club name or the insignia of intertwined snakes on their cuts, but it didn’t mean the Pit Vipers weren’t dangerous.
“I’m going to take a crack at her.” The sneer widened, turning Jase’s stomach, and the Pit Viper winked. “At pool.”
Jase ran his thumb up through the condensation on his bottle and took a long, unhurried drink that said he didn’t give two shits about the man in front of him.
He set the bottle down, mostly empty, and growled, “She’s unavailable.
” Jase flicked his gaze to the pile of men watching, and said, “Tell your friends.”