Her makeup was heavy tonight and she wore a tight red tank top blinged-out with rhinestones and had the neckline cut out in a deep V to showcase that bottle opener-holding cleavage. She also wore a very short denim mini-skirt and some kind of wedge-heel sandals that emphasized her toned, tawny legs.
Her almost-black hair was pulled back in a neat French braid, giving him a good view of her profile as she worked.
When she finally got a lull in the action, she paused to drink from a bottle of water she pulled from under the bar and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. As she tipped the bottle to her lips again, her eyes scanned the customers and slid right past him.
On the return trip, she finally spotted him, causing her head to jerk and her eyes widen before she schooled her reaction.
He was probably the last person she expected to see in Hawg Wild tonight.
Or any night.
But then, he never thought he’d be sitting in the middle of enemy territory, either, getting ready to have a beer instead of hauling subjects off in handcuffs.
She tucked her water bottle back under the bar, skirted a Demon in the middle of pouring a draft beer into a pint glass and came to a stop directly in front of him.
“Hi, honey,” he greeted her.
Her mouth gaped open. Well look at that, he finally left her speechless.
She leaned over the bar so no one else would hear her and hissed, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer any of my texts…” He frowned when he forgot what name was she using.
“Rose,” she whispered, then increased the volume to say, “As you see, I’ve been busy…”
He leaned in until he was only an inch from her ear. “Well, Rose, nice to meet you, I’m your ol’ man, Throttle.”
She straightened and bugged her eyes out at him. For some reason, she didn’t look amused at all.
“I don’t need you checking up on me.” Her expression was full of a whole bunch of unhappy.
Too bad.
Before he could answer her, a deep, thundering voice came out of nowhere. “Problem here?”
Fuck, where did that big dude come from? He needed to pay the fuck attention.
The massive guy came to a stop behind Cabrera and placed his big paws on her shoulders.
She kept her eyes locked on Crew when she answered, “Not at all, Bulldog. Just my ol’ man coming in for a cold beer.”
Crew scanned his front patches.Bulldog. Sgt at Arms. Deadly Demons. Uniontown.
His cut also had the diamond 1% patch. Along with a few others.
“And to check on my woman,” he added.
“You gotta be Throttle, then.”
“In the flesh.” Crew’s eyes dropped to his hands still gripping Cabrera’s shoulders, waiting for the man to remove them.
He didn’t.
“Your ol’ lady kicks ass,” Bulldog announced.
“Nothin’ I don’t know.”
“She also said you got a sled.”