Page 28 of Peasants and Kings
“Your favorite bar is a biker bar?” I asked in amusement.
She shrugged. “Sometimes I want swarthy instead of suits. What can I say? Let me buy you a shot of tequila.”
Tiffany locked my car and shoved the keys into her clutch. With brazen bravado, she stalked toward the entrance. The men who were smoking quickly jumped to like they were eighteenth century, leather-clad tattooed dandies and opened the door for us.
“Thank you, boys,” Tiffany flirted, shooting them a winning smile.
The bar wasn’t seedy or even a dive. It was a lot of dark wood and dim lighting, but it felt welcoming, despite the rough customers who sat at the tables.
We bellied up to the bar. I watched a petite brunette pick up a bottle of bourbon and pour it quickly into three shot glasses before sliding them to a scruffy blond biker who was waiting at the end of the bar.
“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” she said to the attractive biker.
“I thought family drank for free,” he stated with a flirtatious grin.
“What, you don’t get enough free stuff while you’re here?” she demanded.
“Awww, Mia, come on,” he whined. His eyes slid to Tiffany who was looking on in amusement. “Can you talk some sense into her?”
Tiffany shook her head. “Solidarity for sisterhood. Pay up.”
The biker sighed and then looked at me. His flirtatious expression morphed into something else when his eyes met mine.
“Oh, Lord,” the bartender—Mia—muttered. “Boxer, grab your shots and get out of here.”
“But I want to stay and chat with,” he paused, obviously waiting for me to introduce myself, which I had absolutely no intention of doing.
I wasn’t looking for trouble. And Boxer looked like pure trouble.
“She’s not going to tell you her name,” Mia said. “Now get. Colt’s waiting on you.”
“You’re more of a hard ass now that you got married.” He shook his head and grasped the three shot glasses. “Ladies. It’s been a pleasure.”
The biker took his drinks and sauntered away from the bar, disappearing into the back, down a long hallway.
“Sorry about that,” Mia said with a sassy grin. “Boxer is like the older brother I never wanted. Sometimes I have to school him. What are you drinking?”
“Two shots of tequila,” Tiffany stated.
“Better make it four,” I interrupted. “I’ll nurse the second one.”
Mia stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “Tequila. Got it.” She quickly poured the shots. “They’re on me tonight.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I protested, reaching for my clutch.
She waved away my protest. “My bar, my rules. And any gals that come in and ask for multiple shots of tequila—well, I know what that means. So, enjoy your drinks.”
“Well, will you do a shot with us?” I asked.
Mia grinned. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations,” Tiffany said with a wide grin. “Damn girl, where are you hiding that baby belly?”
Mia tugged on her flowing black tank and dragged it close to her body. Sure enough, she had a baby bump. She glanced at me.
“Drink one for me, yeah?”
An hour later, Tiffany and I were sitting in a corner booth when the blond flirt plopped down next to me and curled his arm around my shoulder.
