Page 83 of Kings Fear No One
“If he’s letting you drive his cars, he’s got it bad.”
I snicker. “I don’t think he had any other choice considering he’s away.”
“Consider it a win anyway. He could’ve hidden the keys. I’ll show you the guest room we’ve prepped.”
I follow Sydney from the barroom to the house that sits behind the Steel Saloon. I’m not sure what I was expecting. It looks surprisingly normal for belonging to the president of a biker club.
“Mace’s dad’s serving fifteen,” Sydney explains, twisting the knob on the front door. “He won’t be up for parole for another five.”
“I’m surprised Logan doesn’t live here too.”
“Mace says he’s always liked his privacy... and apparently he wasn’t Velma’s biggest fan.”
“Velma?”
“Long story. Maybe over shots of tequila.”
I chew on my bottom lip to keep from pointing out that I’ve never had tequila before. I’ve only ever drank whiskey—with Logan.
Whiskey that’s left me hot and giggly.
The same kind of warmth flushes over me. The little ritual of ours might sound trivial, but it’s one I’ve come to enjoy.
A pang of sadness hits me directly afterward. Logan won’t be around for who knows how long.
A couple days at least.
I miss him already. More than he probably realizes I do. More than most would say is appropriate considering he’s only been gone a few hours.
Sydney’s been talking as she walks me through the house, giving me a tour. Immersed in thoughts about Logan and how I wish I could put my arms around him, I haven’t heard a word. She stops abruptly once we’re in the kitchen to offer me a drink.
“Grab whatever you want out of the fridge. Mace stocked up for us.”
“Oh… that’s okay… I don’t want to… I’m not here to intrude.”
“Girl, stop. You’re not bothering anybody. I’m glad you’re here. We’ll pass the time they’re gone together.”
For the rest of the morning, Sydney helps me get settled. She updates me about the wedding planning she’s in the thick of. They’re planning for a small gathering in the meadow on the outskirts of town, but putting together a wedding, no matter how modest, requires a lot of work. I offer my services in whatever she needs.
“You’ll be a bridesmaid… if you’re up for it,” Sydney says.
I smile. “I’d like that.”
We move on from the house, returning to the saloon to help Mick. Only a handful of customers swing by so early in the afternoon. Even with the barroom empty, there’s no shortage of work.
I’m happy to slip into my old role as a waitress and take care of the few customers we do have. Two bikers with fuzzy beards named Mudd and Ulysses thank me once I’ve delivered them their pints and salty pretzels.
“You’re a natural,” Mick says, whistling. “Sydney, you’re fired. I’ve got Teysha now.”
Sydney folds her arms, arching a brow. “Fired? You forget you’re speaking to the head old lady?”
He scratches the sparse white hairs on his head. “Seems like just yesterday it was you walking through those doors asking about our hiring sign.”
I pause from where I am wiping down a table. “I still can’t believe you did it. You left Boulder to come work in a biker bar.”
“What do you think you’re doing right now?” Sydney raises her brows at me.
I laugh as if she’s told a joke. “It’s not the same thing.”
