Page 24 of UnScripted

“Get the hell out of my sight—NOW,” I bark. “Shit!” I mutter seeing my sauce bubbling and burning in the pot. “FUCKIN’ WOMEN!”

“Another one? Boss, you need to chill.” Federico walks in seeing the fifth spoon on the ground snapped in two.

“Did Toad speak to you?”

“No. He just told me to come in here and deal with you. What’s goin’ on you’re acting like a grumpy old man.”

“He’s whipped. He’s losing focus the way she’s getting in his head. The two of you are switching duties.”

His coal eyes assess me, he takes a toothpick and places it between his lips squinting like he’s trying to solve some mathematical equation. “She’s not in his head. She’s in yours, and I don’t like it. I haven’t seen you touch a woman since you opened up this place. You should ride up north with Smith, visit the ladies in Canada and take the edge off. I can run shit here.”

I bow my head, angry with myself. I hate how she’s makin’ me feel. I wish I could stop it. But my body responds to her, plain and simple. It’s not something you can control. It’s purely chemical, instinctual, and I’ve always been able to control it.

Until now.

Until her.

I place a dishrag over one shoulder. “Thanks, brother. I just might do that. Tell Tina she’s tending bar tonight. I’m running the kitchen then heading home early. You’re up Federico. I’m putting you in charge. Don’t blow it.”

“I won’t.”

I get busy taking orders and cleaning tables waiting for him to bellow my name at any second. But he never does. He doesn’t come out of the kitchen to tend bar either. Tina’s eyebrows rose, but she seemed happy to be in charge of the bar all night.

Something is up. Mac won’t look me in the eye and stands just outside the door taking Federico’s place as the watch guard. The men are somber tonight; something is definitely going down. Something big. Smith checks his phone, smiles faintly at me as I take his empty away and stands up. He saunters to the door, motions Mac inside and flips the sign to closed as his fingers lock the inside bolt.

It’s only nine thirty.

“Federico will drive you home,” he says softly to me before raising his hand in the air, “Boys, it’s time to ride.”

The men thump their fists on the tables, finish their drinks and stand.

“Tina?” I hiss leaning across the bar, “What in the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know. Don’t ask questions and keep your head down.”

A tingly feeling starts at the base of my spine and quickly moves upwards. I know he’s watching me. My hands shake as I lift the empty glasses off my tray and place them on the bar. My head swivels in his direction. But he’s not there. The door to the kitchen rocks on its hinges. He might’ve vanished, but his presence lingers. One by one, the men of Creed come down the hall carrying roll bags.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“What’s going on Mac?” He takes me by the elbow, and I walk with him down the hall to the back door.

“We’re riding north. Word is that’s where he went.”

“The guy who’s a threat?”

“Yep.”

“Be safe,” I reach up kissing him on the cheek.

He walks out, and my eyes find Roger. He’s out in front with Smith leading a delegation of thirty bikes. He revs his engine and tears out without even glancing my way.

It cuts.

It’s for the best.

I need answers not orgasms from the man.

But damn if I don’t want both anyway.

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