Page 2 of Outlaw

It doesn’t help that my stomach’s just a big butterfly tornado either. Violet told me this place was usually filled with “losers, fat guys, dorks and dweebs who can’t get laid”; she never mentioned anything about guys so hot they could be on the cover of Motorcycle Monthly. Is that even a real magazine? If not, it should be, and he should be their spokesman.

Model cheekbones. A jaw like a superhero. Muscles on top of muscles, looking like they are ready to tear right out of his worn, black T-shirt. Oh, and those eyes…

No one has ever looked at me like that before. I may not have the experience or confidence that Violet has, but I know I’m a pretty girl. I’m at least…a seven on a good day. I’m no stranger to men stealing glances at me. But this was nothing like that.

This was no stolen glance; this was a stare – a possessive, intent stare that only lasted a second, if that, but it felt like an eternity. It felt like…like he was telling me he owned me.

Violet jabs me in the ribs with her elbow and I realize I’ve been completely spacing out.

“Wake up, bitch,” she whispers through her teeth as she smiles at the Lions.

“Sorry!” I blurt out, feeling like a bozo. “Would you guys like food? Drinks?”

“Booze!” the one in front, who appears to be the leader, roars, raising a fist in the air. He’s definitely older – maybe in his 50s – with a long gray beard and his hair slicked back.

“And boobies,” the man behind him, with red hair shaved close, says with a grin that gives me the willies. I try not to shudder as I take three menus from Violet and lead the men over to an open high-top. I can feel their eyes on my ass and try to walk with controlled steps that keep my jiggly bits from jiggling, which is literally the opposite of what I’ve been told to do while working here.

“What can I get you, guys?” I ask once they’re seated. The third guy, who hasn’t spoken yet, just stares blatantly at my boobs. His black hair is greasy, and while he’s definitely a creeper, he doesn’t look very dangerous. I’d bet these guys’ reputation of being dangerous is overblown. Oakville is a small town; people probably just like to have something to talk about.

“Three beers,” the gray-haired one says with a nod. “And when you get back here, I’d like to talk to you about somethin’.”

“Um…okay,” I say stiffly as I head back to the bar, doing my silly penguin-walk as I hold the menus behind me to cover my butt as best I can. I realize I didn’t even ask them what brand they wanted, so I just grab three Coronas from the fridge, and when I turn around, see the man in the back corner with his eyes on me again.

The F2 butterfly twister in my belly turns into an F5 (I hope you’ve seen Twister) and I almost drop all three bottles as I put them onto a tray. He’s so good looking it’s almost unsettling. And what’s even more strange is the fact that I’ve never seen him before. Oakville is a small town where everyone knows everyone; if he lived here, I’d know.

So what’s a handsome stranger like him doing here? Just passing through? The thought of him getting up and leaving and me never seeing him again actually upsets me, which makes me feel crazy, considering I’ve never even spoken to him – never even been within twenty feet of him. But as I bring the tray back over to the Red Lions’ table, I can’t stop looking over at him.

“Here—here you are,” I stammer as I set the drinks down on the table. One of them almost falls over but I manage to catch it before it does. Unfortunately, this also involves me leaning way over the table, giving the men a full view of the twins.

“Told ya this was the place to go,” the gray-haired man chuckles. “Say, missy. How’d you like to earn a little extra cash?”

I straighten up, think about crossing my arms, then think twice and sort of reach up to scratch my ear, trying to block my cleavage with my elbow. It sort of works but not really.

“Thanks.” I smile awkwardly. “But I’m…I’m not that kind of girl. I could ask my friend Violet—”

“That kind of girl?” he asks. “Whoa, hold on, little lady! We ain’t soliticin’ you or anything like that!”

Relieved, I let out an awkward laugh.

“No, what we need is our own private bartender for a party we’re throwin’ tonight. What do you say? Come by the clubhouse around ten-thirty?”

I glance over my shoulder at Violet. She’s giving me the double thumbs-up as I expected she would. But…aren’t these guys dangerous?

They are a biker gang, right?

“Thanks.” I shake my head. “But I’m busy tonight.”

Before they can try to convince me further, I turn and walk quickly over to Violet to seek sanctuary. But as it turns out, she’s not on my side.

“What are you doing?! You said no!?”

“How—how did you know that?” I ask.

“Bitch, it’s obvious.” She frowns. “What did they ask you?”

“You don’t even know what they asked me and you’re mad I said no?”

Violet sighs. “Well, it’s obviously for more money, right? Let me guess…they want you to walk around in a skimpy outfit serving drinks.”

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