Page 30 of Bear

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jupiter

Ileave the classiccar show at the Rhythm and Ribs festival and head over to the main food stalls to grab a beer and some dinner.

Festoon lights line Main Street, and there’s a balmy breeze as I make my way through the throngs of people and across the makeshift dancefloor in search of food. I load up on BBQ ribs and slaw, and search the busy tables for an empty seat.

“Juju!” Bobby Ray calls, and I push through the crowd to see him, Liam, and Jeb waving me over. I head in their direction. The crowd thins, and their table comes into view. My youngest brother Tuck is sitting right next to Tennessee. Bear practically dwarfs my brother. In fact, Tuck looks like a grade-school kid next to the biker’s big frame. The rest of the table is occupied with more Kings members.

Sterling and Ruin shout my name in greeting. Chaos gives me a chin tilt, and several of the other club members raise their beers in salutation. I glare at Tennessee, and he shifts under my gaze and then stands, pushing his chair back. “Here, have my seat.”

“No, you stay,” Tuck says, already on his feet. “Here, Jupiter. Take mine. I’m goin’ to ask Brinley to dance anyway.”

“Thanks,” I say and swallow hard. The last thing I want is to have to sit next to Tennessee. I’ve seen enough of the man for one week.

“Tink,” he says as I sit down.

“Tennessee.”

I start in on my plate and a low whistle emanates from his mouth.

I scowl and turn to look at him. “Something wrong?”

“Just wondering where you put all that food. You must need a rigorous workout afterward.”

“Is that you sayin’ I should have ordered the salad?”

The rest of the boys all start “oohing” like I’m the one spoiling for a fight. I inhale through my nose, counting to ten in my head.

Tennessee leans into my space and whispers, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you love to antagonize me, Tinkerbelle.”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

He leans in so only I can hear. “Then stop making me visualize you bouncing up and down on my dick every time I see you.”

A bolt of desire shoots through me, but I play it cool because there’s one thing I know about guys like Tennessee. If you give them an inch, they take a whole fucking mile. “Like I could control your thoughts, or anyone else’s, for that matter.”

Chaos comes closer. “How’s Grant doing, Jupiter?”

Tennessee stiffens at the mention of my employee. I try not to unpack what that means.

“Well, Chaos, he just got shot and is in recovery, but not entirely out of the woods. So, as you can imagine, he’s not doing too well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me too. If y’all could stop having shootouts in the middle of town, that’d be great. I’m getting a little tired of bullets meant for the Kings decorating my shop.”

The silence that follows is unnerving. Every pair of eyes at that table glares back at me. I know it’s not fair to put this all on him. It’s not Chaos or the club’s fault—at least, not this time—but it’s not as if the Kings are entirely innocent. My garage has been riddled with bullets before, and I’m fucking tired of it.

Bear clears his throat. “You wanna dance with me?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

Bear picks up his beer and takes a long pull from the bottle. You could cut the tension at this table with a knife, and when I glance up at Chaos’s ol’ lady, Cambri, her stern expression gives me pause. Cambri’s always been sweet to me. Truthfully, the club has been good to us over the years, and Chaos even held a damn fundraiser for the shop when we came under fire with that whole Twisted Snakes ordeal. But now, my employee is lying in a hospital bed after almost losing his life.

“Juju.” Liam frowns.

“Er ... we’ve just been dealing with some stuff at the shop,” Bobby Ray says to Chaos and I clench my teeth and glare at both of my brothers, silently communicating that they should fuck off, the way only siblings can.

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