Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
LEIF
A fter a lazy morning and an interesting afternoon struggling in change rooms, it was finally time to head for the biker bar. Laurel looked like she’d stepped straight out of my teenage Grease fantasy phase, and even though it had been a while since I’d even thought about it, I’d suddenly realized that fantasy was still very much alive.
Laurel had bought a pair of black leather pants so tight, it looked like they’d been painted on. On her feet, she wore sky-high, black leather stiletto boots and she’d paired them with a bandage-sized top—that happened to closely resemble what Olivia Newton-John had worn back in the seventies.
You’re the one that I want.
Judging by the twinkle in Laurel’s eyes when she’d emerged from the bathroom after getting dressed, she’d been aiming for the exact effect she’d had on me, which was to make my already desperately tight pants even tighter. That woman knew how to grease my lightning.
With the top now hidden underneath a thick, outdoor jacket, we strode down Broadway, where I’d learned there was a biker bar right in the middle. For now, though, we were still out in the regular world.
The whole street was covered in Christmas lights, the sounds of country music vibrating along the walls of the city. Families with young children played in the snow that had stuck to the ground and hordes of people were out to enjoy the nightlife.
It was bright and vibrant, which was unexpected, but I loved the scene in downtown Franklin on this wintery Sunday night. It was like something out of one of those Christmas movies Laurel and I had watched.
“Here we are,” she said as we approached a door with a sign above it bearing the logo of the bar, a black-and-white pig wearing a hat.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You’re sure about this, right?”
“Are you really going to let our amazing outfits go to waste?” she teased, smiling as she reached for the handle and opened the door.
Sticking close behind, I followed her in, prepared for a night of acting like her personal bodyguard. She looked way too good in that biker get-up, and as soon as her jacket came off, every guy in here was going to know it.
As we walked in, however, I realized the place wasn’t quite what I had expected. I thought we would be met by rough and tough, bearded bikers and women wearing leather micro-skirts. Instead, we found a bunch of old people.
I frowned. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
Laurel nodded slowly, looking around like she was confused about something. Then her gaze came to a rest on a poster stuck on the far wall. “Leif?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s senior Christmas karaoke night here tonight.” She blinked hard, then started laughing her head off. “Gosh, of course, it is. The one night I get to be a baddie in a biker bar, it’s senior night.”
It meant I wouldn’t have to be beating guys away from her with a stick all night long, which was a relief. I chuckled and took her hand. “Don’t worry, bug. You’re still a baddie. Just not one that’s in danger of having to bail her boyfriend out of jail later for starting a fight.”
She glanced up at me as we walked over to find a spot at the bar. “You would’ve started a fight for me?”
“Hell, yeah. I’m wearing pants so tight, I can’t even feel my balls anymore. That should be proof that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Snorting back a laugh, she brought our joined hands to her lips and brushed a kiss to the back of mine. “I’m glad you won’t be getting arrested. You’re too pretty to go to prison.”
I chuckled. “Gee, thanks. That’s your takeaway from everything I just said?”
She shrugged, winking at me as she took a seat at the bar. “Well, I was about to offer to massage the feeling back in your nether regions, but something tells me the offer wouldn’t help the situation much.”
I groaned. “It doesn’t help, but thanks. What are you going to drink?”
“I’m not sure,” she murmured. “What do badass biker girls drink?”
“Vodka,” I said without even thinking about it. “Or maybe whiskey. We are in Tennessee. Around here, I think they toss back shots of Jack Daniels like it’s water.”
“Good point,” she agreed, scanning the liquor on offer behind the bar until she grinned when she found what she was looking for. “I watched a movie once and one of the female leads was a real biker type. She was all about Jack, Jim, and Jose. Are you up for it?”
“I happen to enjoy all three of those, so bring it on,” I said, taking a seat beside her before I realized that I might have to beat a guy away after all.
The bartender had spotted Laurel and he was clearly into her. He had a smirk on his lips as he dragged his gaze over her. Slinging the rag he’d been using to clean glasses over his shoulder, he sauntered over. “What can I get you, baby? If you’re willing to trust me, I’ll make you a drink on the house. You won’t regret it. It’s my signature cocktail.”
That possessive streak I’d been nurturing burned through the guard in front of my mouth. “Whoa, buddy,” I said, intervening immediately. “Cool it.”
“Relax, man. I just enjoy serving beautiful ladies.” Barely even looking at me, he gave her an overly exaggerated wink, folding his arms on the counter as he waited for her answer.
She glanced at me. “What do you think?”
“I think you should stick to your original plan to start with. Then you can get fancy if you want.”
Reaching over to take my hand, she squeezed it as she nodded excitedly. “You’re right. I need to have a shot of Jim, Jack, and Jose in a biker bar. I need that story in my life.”
I chuckled, but the bartender seemed confused. When she nodded at him, he frowned but straightened up and backed away, spinning to grab all three bottles from the shelf. I noticed that he hadn’t waited for me to place an order, but I was mainly here for moral support.
Besides, it would be harder for him to ignore me once he got back with her drinks. I also didn’t want her to think I was a complete dick in social situations, so I waited for him to come back with her shots before I caught his gaze.
“I’ll have the same.”
He nodded, turning to fill three more shots. Once he’d handed them over, he left us alone again, heading back over to the far side of the bar to speak to the guy who seemed to be managing the karaoke.
Laurel chuckled as she picked up the first shot. “Will it make me less of a baddie if I sip this instead of drinking it all at once?”
“That depends,” I said thoughtfully. “What do you usually drink when you go out and how much?”
“Um, not much. I have the occasional glass of wine. Maybe two. If I’m in the mood, I might have a beer or a cocktail, but that’s about it.”
“Sip it,” I suggested. “If you shoot all three of those one after the other, I’ll be carrying you out of here in about thirty minutes and you won’t even get around to completing your task. Have you ever smoked before?”
“No,” she said, grimacing when she seemed to realize that it might be a problem. “There are ‘ no smoking ’ signs all over this place. Even if I could get my hands on a cigarette, how am I going to smoke in a bar that doesn’t allow it?”
I nodded at an exit door near the back, noticing that it was propped open just a little bit. “You’ll have to go out there. It’s not in the bar, but it’s still in the spirit of the task. Smoking laws are stricter now than they used to be.”
“Fair enough.” She turned to look at me, those gorgeous dark eyes boring into mine. “Have you ever smoked before?”
“I’m not proud of it, but yes. I have.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “When? For how long? Did you quit?”
“For three whole days when I was in my final year of college, I was a smoker,” I told her. She chuckled and shook her head at me. “Needless to say, it wasn’t a habit that stuck with me. We were preparing for finals and some guy in my dorm asked if I wanted a smoke. I figured I’d try it, but it was disgusting.”
“Yet, you did it for three days.” She leaned forward a bit, intrigue in her eyes. “Why?”
“The first time I went up to the roof with that guy, I realized it was a pretty cool place to hang out. The smokers had their own little community up there where they blew off steam, and some of the girls weren’t bad looking either. I was in college, you know. No one has ever said that people are smart at that age.”
She chuckled, hooking her elbow on the counter and resting her head in her open palm. Her hair fell like a curtain to one side of her face, her eyes on mine as she sipped her tequila. “I’ve never heard of anyone trying that hard to start smoking.”
“Clearly, I’m not a trendsetter,” I joked. “It was fun while it lasted, but then the exams started anyway and I couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke any longer. I swear, I smelled it on my fingers even after I took a shower. It really was disgusting. The people were great, but the habit itself? Not so much”
She smiled. “At least I know what’s waiting for me, then. Do you think someone in here might have a cigarette for me?”
“Smokers are usually pretty easygoing people. If you go out back there where they gather, you’ll find someone who’ll bum you one. Guaranteed.”
“Right, well, I think I need more of this,” she inclined her head toward her drink, “before I get to that.”
She glanced at the propped open door, slowly bringing her gaze back to mine. “What were you like in college?”
“A loose cannon,” I said honestly. “I wasn’t under my mother’s roof anymore. You were gone. Reality really started sinking in that my dad was never coming back. I won’t bore you with the details, but I wasn’t at my best.”
“Yeah.” She sighed softly. “Neither was I. I buried myself in books, either reading them or writing one. I’m pretty sure entire days went by that I didn’t say a single word.”
“I’m sorry, Laurel. I should’ve been there.”
“Likewise.” Her gaze had been far away for a second, but it suddenly refocused on mine and she grinned. “It wasn’t all bad, though. I wrote one of my first series in those days and it’s still one of my most popular.”
“I’ve been wanting to ask you about that,” I said, genuinely interested. “When you were telling me about all your favorite books, you didn’t say anything about your own. Can I read them?”
Her cheeks flushed, but she nodded after thinking it over for a second. “I suppose you could if you really want to.”
“I do.” As soon as I got back to Denver. “Which one should I start with?”
As I asked the question, the bartender came back. Laurel was still sipping her drinks, but he was carrying a cocktail that had smoke coming off it—literally.
“A smokin’ drink for a smokin’ lady,” he said, flashing her a grin as he pushed it across the bar at her. “Those shots don’t do you justice.”
“Seriously, dude,” I said. “Back. Off.”
He tapped his knuckles on the counter and smirked at me. “I don’t mean any harm, man. I’m not looking for trouble. Just doing my job. Relax already.”
Blinking back her surprise, Laurel eyed the cocktail, seemingly fascinated with the smoky steam rising from it. “That’s a really interesting drink. Wow. Thank you.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.”
Spinning and walking away once more, he kept glancing at her over his shoulder even when he went to sit back down with the karaoke guy. My temper flared a little, but I swallowed it down. Laurel didn’t even seem to have noticed his constant glances, and if she wasn’t paying him any mind, neither would I.
She wrapped her fingers around the long stem of the martini glass, cautiously pulling it closer as she studied the vapor rising from the liquid. “I doubt bad girls drink cocktails, but I’m definitely going to try this. It looks like a witch’s brew. It’s so cool.”
It was hard to argue with her assessment. I was pretty curious about what he’d put in there myself. The emerald green liquid had darker hues in the middle with bluish swirls at the top and bottom. It really was reminiscent of what I imagined a witch’s brew or potion might look like.
“Do it,” I said, encouraging her rather than letting the jealousy flash through over who had made it for her. “It is a really cool-looking drink. I’m pretty sure even a bad girl would think so.”
“Okay, I’m going to do it,” she murmured, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud at all. “I’m doing it. Here I go.”
Picking up the drink, she took a sip, but as she swallowed, her features contorted. When she started coughing, it took me a second to figure out what had happened. She’d ended up choking on the smoke and it came out of her mouth and nose as she sputtered for breath.
I laughed as I watched her, wondering if she realized yet what had just happened. When she finally turned to fake a glare at me, her eyes watery from the choking, she frowned. “Why are you laughing? You could’ve helped me.”
“You’re fine.” I grinned. “Especially because you can officially check smoking in a biker bar off your list now.”
The frown deepened for half a second before it smoothed out into a smile. “You’re right! I just completed the challenge. I smoked in a biker bar I’m not even allowed to smoke in.” She lifted her hand for a high-five. “Holy crap. I can’t believe it’s done, and I don’t even have to have my fingers smelling like smoke tomorrow.”
I smacked my palm against hers, but then caught her hand and pulled her to me to lay a hard kiss on her lips. “You did it, my badass bug. Only one more challenge to go, and you’ll officially have done the naughtiest stuff you ever have. What do you think so far? Think you’ll stay bad, or will my all-good girl be making a reappearance?”