What a Bachelor Needs (Bachelor Auction Book 4) (13 page)

“Table seven might be ready for more drinks.”

“What about the bikers? They getting any more drinks?”

“They’ve got another order in. The drinks are going down a little too fast for Reese’s liking. He’s called for reinforcements.”

“Yay.” She and Carla exchanged glances.

“Shall we try corn chip persuasion before the testosterone gets here?” Mardie suggested. “Many a battle has been averted by corn chips.”

So true.

They filled a dozen or so baskets and started delivering them to the booths and tables at the front of the bar and then to the bikers. The atmosphere grew friendlier. People liked freebies.

“Sorry about the wait,” she said to the big biker boss as she cleared the glasses from around him. “We’re tapping a new keg for you.”

“Does the vodka need tapping too?”

Okay, point for him, but still… corn chips. Mardie looked around, trying to gauge the average level of impatience and her gaze landed on the pool table. They were just finishing a game. All the colored balls were gone and, yep, there went the black. “Some of your boys are pretty good at that.”

He smiled lazily. “Like I said, feel free to join in.”

“Fair warning.” She tried for light and flirty and almost managed it. “I’m the resident pool shark around here. Unless, of course, my father comes in. That man can thread a nine ball through a needle.”

“That so?”

“It is. Who’s your best player?”

The leader nodded towards an older man wearing fringed leather and a black bandanna. “You can call him Dog.”

“How about we see if he wants to play me?”

Dog looked her up and down impassively and then looked to his leader. “What’s the bet?”

Mardie had one in mind. “If I win, you and your boys ease off on the drinks – for the comfort of my manager and his liquor license – and you have a quiet, friendly night.”

“And if you lose?”

“The drinks keep coming.”

The leader smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Play,” he said.

Someone handed her a pool cue but it wasn’t the one that she wanted. She handed it back and took a different cue from a bald guy with bright blue eyes and a wide, white grin.

“Anyone want to bet against the house for the win?” she said into the ensuing silence, and fished in her apron for one of the hundred dollar notes they’d given her in tips.

May as well get something out of this besides heart failure if she ended up in the middle of a situation she couldn’t control. But they were okay, these bikers. Heavy drinkers and definitely in the wrong bar… but otherwise okay.

She hoped.

Mardie looked towards the bar to find Reese now standing in front of it, with his arms crossed and his mouth grim.

None of their reinforcements had arrived yet.

She sent him a silent grimace of apology and then took her time chalking the cue and examining it for straightness. She slid her hands over her hips, wishing for a couple of extra inches of skirt. They wouldn’t be looking at her legs for long anyway. If Mardie had her way, all eyes would soon be on the table.

She took this game seriously.

She lined up for the break and let her muscles settle into old, familiar patterns. Let the tension go in her shoulders, her hands steady now that she had something to focus on. The break was good and she pocketed a solid but she didn’t want solids. “I want stripes,” she said. You want me to call them all or only when it’s not blindingly obvious?” she asked.

“Call ’em all,” the leader said. “Entertain us.”

“Green in the corner pocket,” she said as she sank the shot. “I had one of my pool playing heroes run the table on me once. I made it my mission in life to be able to do the same. Of course, I’m rusty these days so I can’t promise that’ll happen, but I’ll give it my best shot. Number thirteen in the side pocket. I want to kiss the cue ball off the four.”

She lined up the shot, put it in, and smiled when the thirteen found the pocket and the cue ball kicked back and stopped exactly where she wanted it.

“Girl’s got skills,” said blue eyes.

“I love this game. I always have. I wanted to play professionally once and then I got married and had a daughter instead. Worst and best decisions I’ve ever made.” Her next two shots went in and she called it all, but she didn’t get good cue ball position at the end of it.

She circled the table, stood beside Dog and chalked the tip of her pool cue again. “What do you think?”

“You could try a double bank on the yellow.”

“Yeah, but I’m a safety first kind of girl. I’d really like to break up that cluster now, rather than later.”

“How good’s your curve ball?”

“How good’s the table? I meant it when I said the tables were better over at Wolf’s Den. They have a full size billiard table and it’s flatter than Kansas, and it’s lit like a dream and the felt is brand new and deep red. Pure playing pleasure.”

“Why aren’t you working there?”

“Bar’s too rough for my liking. I prefer peace and quiet and serving nachos to families. Okay, I’m going for the curve ball. Combination fifteen into the corner,” she muttered and played it and prayed.

The shot went in. She glanced over at Dog who gave her a nod and didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t taken a shot yet.

“You just set up your key shot,” he said.

“I’m having a really good day.”

Her next two shots went in, and then she played her key shot. The nine ball went in next and Mardie was done.

Table run. Life was good and calm and ordinary, even in a room full of big biker dudes. She could handle this.

And then someone came up behind her, hemming her between them and the table. “Honey, you can play me any time,” a voice said in her ear and Mardie felt her blood run cold.

Not a threat, the rational little voice inside her head said, even as her body froze. She could still talk her way out of this. Just stand up, push back, throw someone a smile and walk away.

Just because someone was standing behind her and giving her no place to go, didn’t mean a beating was imminent.

It was just… unfortunate.

She reversed her grip on the pool stick, tightening it, and a dozen pairs of eyes saw the telltale move.

Okay, so maybe her talking-her-way-out of-this skills were a little underdeveloped.

“Back off,” she said in a low ragged voice, pitched for one set of ears only. “I don’t like it when people come up behind me. Makes me twitch.”

A big hand came down on the table and pinned the stick to the table. His fingers were thick and twice the size of hers and there was dirt and grease and chaos beneath his nails, and now she really was frozen. No weapon, no reason, just fear.

She took a deep breath. Gave bigger voice to her needs. “Back off.” Louder this time, so that more ears could hear. She was no one’s victim.

Never again.

And then came the sound of a gun being cocked, and there stood Bee, all soft and pretty, with her back to the wall and her shotgun pointed directly at the biker leader.

“She did ask nicely,” Bee said.

The leader crossed his arms in front of his gut, his eyes never leaving Bee’s face. “She did.”

“Easy,” said Dog, and suddenly the looming presence behind her was gone and so was the hand that had pinned the pool cue to the table. “Nothing but a friendly game of eight ball happening here, isn’t that right, girlie?” He was talking to Mardie directly now. “We’ll have that round now. And then we’ll go and find that other table. You hearing me?”

Mardie nodded, and tried not to run, tried to concentrate on leaving without turning into prey again.

“Hey.”

Mardie froze. Again.

“You forgot your money.” She looked up and there was Dog, with the winnings in his hand. He could see her fear. He could probably smell it. He dropped the money on her tray and stepped back. “Well played.”

“Not really.”

“I had a dog like you once. Found her half dead in the gutter. Mistreated was my guess. She came good eventually. Hell, she got downright sociable.”

Could every man and his dog read Mardie’s history at a glance? “What happened to her?”

“She had six litters, thirty pups and when she died I got her face tattooed on my chest. Want to see it?”

“Ah…” This whole day, from Jett start to tattooed Dog finish, was insane. “No. I should…go.”

“All I’m saying,” he offered gravely. “Is that you did okay.”

*

Reese greeted her
with a glare but Jason Grey’s face was bleaker still as he handed her a shot of whisky and waited until she swallowed it.

“I was doing fine until the end,” she said in her defense.

“You ever take on a crowd like that by yourself again and you’re fired,” Jason said. “We clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Get back to work.”

His words were exactly what she needed to hear. Any softness from him, from anyone, and she might break.

Half an hour later, the bikers were gone and only a handful of tables remained occupied. Jason had disappeared into his office, Bee and Trey had started a cutthroat game of hangman and Mardie and Carla had refilled all salt, pepper, and sauce containers and wiped down all the vacant tables. Business as usual, except that it was eleven p.m. going on 2050 as far as Mardie was concerned.

Adrenaline had been and gone and left her husked out and empty.

She’d been stupid, seen danger when there wasn’t any and her actions had escalated conflict.

Her hands were back to shaking.

“I’m calling someone to come and get you,” said Reese. “Parents, Ella Grace, I’ll even sic Bee on to you if I have to. So give me a name.”

Would Jett even be in Marietta? It was still snowing. Maybe he’d stayed with his brother tonight. And maybe she was stupid for even thinking about calling him, but there was only one person she wanted to be with right now and it was him. “Reese, I’m fine. I don’t need managing.”

“No, but you do need company,” Bee offered gently. “So make a call… or he will.”

Mardie bestowed upon them her fiercest glare and it was like sunlight glinting off steel. Some of it absorbed, some of it reflected. All it did was heat things up.

Mardie didn’t want heat. She wanted cool, calm reason. And sleep.

“Fine.” She’d make a call. But she wasn’t doing it in front of them.

She made her way over towards the noticeboard and chewed on the edge of her lip as she found Jett’s number.

He sounded sleepy when he answered.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you still in town anywhere?”

“I’m at Seth’s. Where are you?”

“Grey’s. Look, I don’t even want to ask but it’s been a rough night, we had bikers in, and there was…friction. It shook me up. I need an escort home and I thought…” she took a deep breath. “I thought of you. You don’t have to. I can ask my father to come and get me. That would be the sensible thing to do. Smart. I’m not very smart sometimes.” She would not cry. Not now.

“I’m on my way,” he said, and hung up.

*

When Jett came
through the doors fifteen minutes later, people stared. He was a beautiful man, people probably stared at him a lot.

Not that he seemed to give a damn.

“Pretty,” said Bee wistfully from somewhere beside her. “Why are the pretty ones always taken?”

“That one’s not taken. He’s just…on borrow.”

“No, honey, he’s gone,” Bee said gently. “You just don’t know it yet.”

Jett approached and stood before them, giving her space, examining her face. “Big night?”

“For some,” said Reese and Jett locked glances with him. God knew what they said without saying a word. Maybe they were passing the baton. Maybe they were admiring the cut of each other’s jaw. Whatever it was, it was manspeak.

And then Jett turned his gaze back on her and Mardie felt the warmth of it right down to her soul. “You ready to go?” he asked gently.

She was.

He held out his hand and she took it, and then she was in his arms and his lips were at her temple. “You all right?”

“Yes.” She was safe now. She’d been safe all night. Her imagination had run wild on her, and almost caused a bar fight.

“You want to go and pick up Claire?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t do another night without her daughter. She needed her close.