My Casanova (Iron Fiends #7)

Chapter One

Dani

It was dead.

Not literally, of course, but it might as well have been. Mondays were usually slow, but today seemed worse. I had Stan to thank for that.

Stan was amazing. Truly, he was. He’d worked all weekend, restocked shelves, cleaned, and organized everything to perfection. He made running the Wine and Cheese Me so much easier, but on Mondays like this, his overachieving left me with nothing to do.

The bottles of wine were dusted, the kegs of imported olive oil were full, and the cheese display looked like it belonged in a glossy magazine. I had a small delivery of olives and dried fruits coming later, but it would barely take fifteen minutes to unpack and stash in the back.

So there I was, scrolling through my phone behind the counter and hoping for a customer to walk in.

I sighed, opened my podcast app, and hunted for something new to listen to. My options were getting slim. I settled on a true crime episode about the murder of Lesly Palacio and let it play as I leaned against the counter.

About ten minutes in, the whole building shook.

Like, shook .

The cheese case rattled violently, and I dropped to the ground behind the counter with a yelp. My heart was racing as I whispered, “What the hell?”

Texas wasn’t earthquake country, but lately, it felt like nothing was off the table anymore. For a second, I stayed crouched and listened to the unsettling creaks of the building. Then I peeked over the counter, and my stomach lurched.

There was a man lying just outside my front door.

Smoke filled the parking lot, and the scent of burning metal and debris wafted in. I didn’t know what had just happened, but I knew one thing—I needed to check on the guy lying in front of my shop.

I ran to the door, pushed it open just enough to slip through, and dropped to my knees beside him.

“Hey,” I said as my voice trembled when I pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. “Come on, come on…” My brief stint as an EMT when I was twenty was paying off.

Relief washed over me when I found a pulse—steady, strong. “Thank god,” I whispered.

The man was sprawled on the concrete, face half-turned into the ground. He was tall, broad, and muscular, with scrapes and dirt smeared across his arms. His leather vest caught my attention—worn and faded, with the name Smoke embroidered on the lapel. Beneath that was a patch I recognized: the Iron Fiends, a local motorcycle club.

I’d seen them around town before. Their roaring bikes were impossible to miss, but I’d never spoken to any of them. They weren’t exactly my target demographic. The moms and single women who frequented my shop didn’t typically mix with the biker crowd.

“Hey, Smoke,” I said softly and tapped his shoulder. My fingers brushed the leather of his cut, and the fabric was scorched. “Can you hear me?”

A faint groan escaped him, and his head twitched ever so slightly. Relief flooded through me; at least he was alive. I crouched closer, and my knees pressed into the cracked pavement.

“Smoke,” I whispered again, a little more urgently. His eyes fluttered open, and his glassy haze locked onto mine for a moment before his head rolled to the side.

“What the fuck?” he croaked, his voice rough like gravel being dragged over metal.

I sat back on my heels. “Yeah,” I murmured. “What the fuck is right.” The explosion that had rocked the little strip mall still reverberated in my ears. Maybe it was a gas line or something. What else could it have been?

Smoke shifted and tried to push himself up. His arm trembled under the effort, and he collapsed back with a hiss of pain. I reached out instinctively and steadied him by the shoulder. “I think you should stay put until help comes,” I suggested, my voice firm now.

He grunted and shook his head. “I don’t need help. I need to make sure everyone else is okay.”

“Everyone else?” I repeated, confused. My gaze darted around the deserted parking lot. The strip mall was small—just my shop, Wine and Cheese Me, a dry cleaner, an exotic fish store, and a couple of empty units. Hardly the kind of place you’d expect a biker gang to congregate at.

“I need to get up,” Smoke said, his tone more insistent.

“Look, you’re not going anywhere right now,” I told him and planted a hand on his chest to keep him down. It wasn’t like I could stop him if he were at full strength, but right now, he wasn’t much of a match. “I’m sure your friends are fine. Just... stay still, okay?”

His eyes fluttered shut again, and his breathing was shallow. “Angel,” he murmured, the word barely audible.

I frowned. “Huh?”

He didn’t answer. My heart kicked up a notch. His stillness terrified me. What if he’d passed out? Or worse—what if he was dying? My mind raced through worst-case scenarios, and each one was worse than the last.

“Smoke?” I leaned over him and shook his shoulder gently. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, and up close, I could see the fine details of his face. The scruff on his jaw was rough, and tattoos crawled up his neck from his collar. By his ear was a monarch butterfly, delicate and out of place against the gritty aura he gave off. His arms and hands were covered in more ink—symbols and intricate designs that told stories I couldn’t even begin to understand. Black gauges filled his earlobes. He was handsome in that bad-boy way that made good girls like me contemplate doing reckless things.

Focus, Dani.

“Smoke, come on. Wake up,” I urged and shook him again. “You gotta stay awake for me.”

His eyes cracked open, their dark depths meeting mine. “I’m tired, angel,” he whispered.

There it was again—angel. Was he talking to me? “Uh, well, you can’t fall asleep, okay? You might have a concussion. Or worse. Just... stay with me.”

He nodded faintly, though his eyelids drooped alarmingly. My nerves were frayed. I had no idea how he’d ended up sprawled in front of my shop, but I could guess it involved whatever explosion had rocked the strip mall.

“Smoke!” a booming voice called out and made me jump.

I turned toward the sound and saw two men sprinting toward us. Their figures were outlined against the backdrop of rising smoke and flames. They were tall and intimidating, both wearing similar vests to Smoke’s.

The first man dropped to his knees beside us, his beard flecked with soot. “What the fuck, man?” he asked, his voice rough with concern. “You good?”

“I think he’s okay, but I’m not sure if he has internal injuries or something,” I explained and shifted back slightly to make room.

The bearded man’s eyes snapped to mine, sharp and assessing. “Who the hell are you?”

“Uh...” I stammered, caught off guard. “I own the shop your friend landed in front of.”

He grunted, clearly unimpressed with my answer. His name patch caught my eye—Yarder. It was oddly convenient that these guys wore their names on their chests. The second man, who stood watchfully behind Yarder, had Fade stitched onto his vest.

“What happened?” Smoke rasped, drawing the attention back to him.

“Building blew,” Yarder growled, his expression dark.

“Fucking O’Hara,” Fade spat, and his tone was laced with venom.

O’Hara? I blinked, my confusion deepening. Another name I didn’t recognize. My questions were piling up fast, but I had no answers.

“What about the girls?” Smoke asked, his voice weak but insistent.

“We’re all good, man,” Yarder assured him. “Can’t say the same for O’Hara, though. Compass is with her.”

I frowned. O’Hara was a woman? And who was Compass? The mystery surrounding these men grew with every passing second.

In the distance, the wail of sirens cut through the air.

“Cops?” Smoke asked, his tone wary.

“Fucking blast shook at least three blocks’ worth,” Yarder growled. “None of us called, though. I’m sure other people did.”

Both men turned their eyes on me. Suspicion flared in their gazes.

I held up my hands defensively. “I didn’t call the police! I’m no snitch.” The words tumbled out before I could think them through, like I needed to prove myself to them.

Fade chuckled behind me.

More like I hadn’t had time to call the police. The second I saw Smoke lying in front of my shop, I didn’t think of anything other than to help him.

“Should we split?” Smoke asked, his voice tight with strain as he leaned against Yarder for support.

Yarder shook his head. “We run, and it’ll look like we did this.”

“Third fucking explosion with us present,” Fade muttered, his tone laced with frustration.

Yarder turned a sharp glare on him. “Shut the fuck up.”

I froze. Ope. They must have realized I was standing right there and quietly absorbed every word.

Smoke shifted and tried to sit up straighter with a grimace. Yarder moved quickly to help him and slipped an arm under his shoulder.

“Fucking hell,” Smoke groaned, and he pressed a hand to his ribs.

Fade let out a low whistle. “Pretty sure you flew like forty feet, man. Fucking low-flying bird.”

Despite the pain, Smoke chuckled weakly before wincing. “Pretty sure I cracked a few ribs on the landing.”

“Hopefully, that’s all you cracked,” Yarder said, his tone gruff but not without concern. He gently touched the back of Smoke’s head and pulled his hand away to inspect the blood. “How’s your head feel?”

“Like I flew forty feet and landed on it,” Smoke replied with a pained laugh.

“Yeah, you’re gonna feel this in the morning,” Yarder said and shook his head.

Smoke groaned softly. “I much prefer you being the one blown up.”

Yarder didn’t seem amused. Instead, he glanced at me, and his eyes narrowed, assessing whether I was a threat.

“She’s cool,” Fade said.

“How the fuck do you know that?” Yarder asked, his brow furrowed.

Fade motioned toward my shop. “Because she’s into wine and cheese, man. Almost as good as beer and cheese.”

I jumped in and hoped to ease the tension. Fade was right; I was cool in whatever sense that he wanted me to be, so I didn’t get on the wrong side of the Iron Fiends. “I have a few imported beers, actually. They pair well with cheese. Uh, you guys should check them out… sometime when you didn’t just get blown up,” I ended softly.

Fade grinned. “See? Cool.”

Yarder rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further.

The sound of sirens grew louder, and the shrill wail signaled that help was almost here. Moments later, fire trucks, an ambulance, and four squad cars pulled into the parking lot with their lights flashing brightly.

“Let the fun begin,” Yarder muttered under his breath. “Everyone stick to what we were doing.”

Curiosity got the better of me. “And what were you doing?” I asked, my voice quieter than intended. “I mean... just so I know.” Did snitches ask people what they were doing? They probably did. Maybe asking wasn’t my best choice.

Yarder’s sharp glare returned, and I immediately regretted speaking up. Yeah, snitches do not ask questions.

“We were looking at the empty space to rent,” Fade said quickly and saved me from Yarder’s scorn. “Building fucking blew before we even opened the door.”

“Wow, that’s... crazy,” I said. My words felt stilted. It was crazy, but these guys didn’t seem to think it was too crazy, seeing as this was the third time they had apparently been blown up. “Maybe it was a gas line or something? The gas company was out here a couple of days ago, working on something.” I vaguely remember seeing a truck parked in front of the empty storefront earlier in the week.

Yarder’s expression softened, if only slightly. “Yeah?”

I nodded and held onto the detail like it might clear me of any suspicion.

Smoke shifted again and groaned softly. “Get me up.”

Fade moved to his other side, and together with Yarder, they helped Smoke to his feet. He swayed unsteadily between them and looked like he might collapse at any moment.

“Thanks for your help...” Yarder said and trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

“Uh, Dani. I’m Dani Marie.” It felt strange to say my name out loud. I hadn’t used my last name in years—too many bad memories tied to it. After my divorce, I’d simply dropped it altogether and just used my first and middle name.

“Thanks for your help, Dani Marie.” Yarder gave a curt nod before the three of them started toward the cops and firefighters. Firefighters were already working on assessing the building, while four cops looked like they were trying to figure out where to start first.

I stayed back and watched them go. Smoke glanced over his shoulder at me, and his eyes met mine for a fleeting moment. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave me was... well, I don’t know exactly what it was, but it was something. A thank you, maybe, but it was more than that.

I folded my arms over my chest and gave him a small nod in return. Seemed like a safe thing to do.

The morning had started off boring as hell, but now? Now, it had been explosive, and I still had no idea what had happened.