Tequila Blues: A Second Chance Romance (Serrated Brotherhood MC Book 3) Page 3

  Adam “Mojo” Rutgers is an impressive guy. Big, scary, charming, smart, he’s a man’s man that women lose their panties for. I have a helluva lot of respect for my father and club president.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s past his prime and needs to get the fuck out of the way so Camden can take over.

  I don’t share this information with anyone because I don’t believe in sharing information period. People talk too much, giving away all their secrets.

  Case in point, Camden is way too fucking chatty for my taste. He might look like me on the outside, but his brain is wired completely different. Camden thinks like a leader and struts like he’s already running the show. Except he isn’t running shit. Worse still, the good-looking bastard hasn’t noticed the giant target on his handsome back.

  Mojo asks Camden and me to meet him at one of the club’s side businesses. The bar is a dump and caters to the nastiest drunks in town. Right now, it’s empty, allowing us to speak openly about the club’s recent problems.

  “Howler’s on edge,” Mojo announces immediately.

  My uncle, Howler, grew up pampered as the only son of the wealthy Hallstead family. As a young man, he built the Serrated Brotherhood Motorcycle Club with my dad. Already living the easy life, now he has the power of the club at his back. To say Howler was a spoiled fucker would be an understatement.

  “What’s new?” Camden says, immediately losing his good mood.

  “He wants to go to war with Hayes over Common Bend.”

  “We all want shit,” I say, settling my feet on the bar top and resting back in a chair.

  Camden watches me, likely thinking I’ll tip over. The guy loves physical humor. If I fall, he’ll laugh until his woman is forced to change his diapers.

  “I need you to take this seriously,” Mojo growls in a mean as fuck voice that would scare me more if he wasn’t my daddy. “Can you do that just once, Dayton?”

  “I take everything seriously. I’m sorry if my lack of tears and girlish panic makes you think otherwise.”

  My father stares at me with his dark eyes. As a kid, I liked how his eyes shined when he was happy and how they hid his anger when he was pissed. Unlike my uncle, Mojo believes in hiding his worst qualities. Only those who know him best understand how awful he can be.

  “JJ wants to get patched into the club, and Howler expects his boy to be fast tracked.”

  I think about my newest bastard cousin. This one showed up months ago for a reunion with his deadbeat dad, Howler. For whatever reason, my uncle actually gave a shit and now JJ is getting fast tracked into a club where normal guys take years to gain their patch.

  “Like I said, we all want shit that won’t happen,” I mutter.

  “Howler expects you two to put JJ through the ringer, but do it quickly, so he’ll get his patch by the end of the summer.”

  Pulling out his super pissed but totally handsome frown, Camden nearly hisses, “Or we take our fucking time and see if we can push the fucker to leave.”

  “JJ won’t leave.”

  “You never know,” I say, leaning farther back and giving Camden more hope that I’ll fall. “JJ wants what he’ll never get.”

  Dad asks, “What’s that?”

  “I’ll let you know when he figures it out. The guy is a fucking mess in the head.”

  “I don’t want him in the club,” Camden states as if he’s the one calling the shots.

  Our father notices Camden’s tone too. They share a dark-eyed glaring match until I nearly tip over. Steadying myself, I smile at Camden.

  “So close but nope.”

  “Next time,” he says, smirking.

  “Look, here’s what I think,” I announce like I give a shit. “Now I’m not the club president and I never will be. No, I’m just a handsome sonovabitch who JJ considers his best buddy, so what do I know anyway?”

  “Just spill it,” Dad says, rolling his eyes.

  “JJ isn’t a team player, and he certain as shit doesn’t believe in loyalty. Not even to the mom he ditched so he could come here and play nice with his long-lost daddy. A man who doesn’t believe in loyalty has no place in the club.”

  “Then he doesn’t get in,” Camden instantly says.

  “That’s not your call,” Mojo reminds him. “Any member can sponsor a recruit. That doesn’t mean he’ll get a patch, but we’ve got to go through the motions of letting JJ try.”

  “A waste of fucking time.”

  Camden is so busy thinking about his wasted time, and Mojo is so busy thinking about how he’ll explain to Howler that JJ failed to get patched that they miss the real threat.

  Howler’s a man past his prime who has everything to lose. JJ is a nobody wanting something he thinks we’ll give him. When Howler lets JJ down, only a fucking idiot would expect the asshole to walk away peacefully. More likely, he’ll burn down everything from the club to the town.

  Dad claps his hands together as a signal that he’s made up his mind. “JJ will need to jump through the same hoops as everyone else.”

  “We jumped through them. Why the fuck shouldn’t he?” Camden grumbles.

  “We’ve buried two members in the last year,” I remind them. “After the last one, it was Howler who freaked out about everyone wanting their every family member patched in. If I remember right, he said we’re not running a book club, and we ought to have some fucking standards. You might want to remind him of that when he complains about us slow tracking JJ.”

  “Thanks, son,” Mojo says, giving me a dirty look.

  “You’re welcome. I’m always here to lend a helping hand when you two get in over your fat heads.”

  “You and I have the same head,” Camden says.

  “Yeah, but I wear it better. Now are we done hyperventilating or is there more whining to do?”

  “You in a hurry to get somewhere?” Mojo asks, cocking an eyebrow.

  “I wanted to stop by Mom’s place and eat pie.”

  “While you’re there, ask if the Hallstead sisters have made their point or do my balls need to remain in a vice?”

  Trying not to laugh at his expression, I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m not asking that.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “If she gets mad, I might not get pie.”

  “Then ask after you get your fucking pie.”

  “Well, that’d just be rude.”

  Mojo looks to Camden for help, but he only shrugs. “It’s good pie.”

  “I occasionally feel as if I did a shitty job with you two.”

  “We occasionally feel that way too,” I say, leaning back in a chair again. “We’re not going to war with Hayes, are we? I can’t imagine it’d be fun to fight Bonn.”

  “He signed up to fight us. No pity.” When Camden and I share a look, Mojo adds, “Bonn chose his side.”

  Camden narrows his handsome gaze. “Kinda seems like if your VP was the sort of man to treat his kids with a tiny bit of consideration then maybe Bonn would have sided with us. Hell, maybe he could have convinced the Reapers to sell Common Bend to us instead of Hayes. But, no, Howler needed to be a dick father.”

  “Well, just until JJ came along,” I point out.

  “Yeah, I get it,” Dad says, scratching at his jaw. “Howler is a shithead, but he’s also your VP, and you’ll show the man respect.”

  “Consider it done,” I say, leaning back farther and drawing Camden’s attention.

  Mojo rolls his eyes again. “You two are spoiled bitches.”

  “We get that from our paternal side of the family,” I mumble while my chair nearly tips backward before I steady myself.

  Camden grins. “It’ll happen sooner or later.”

  Grinning, I look to Dad. “About Common Bend, you said what Howler wants. What about you?”

  Mojo’s right hand goes through his still thick hair. I know he always had his heart set on taking Common Bend from the Reapers. Now he’d need to go through Hayes and Bonn. A war for Common Bend isn’t
what the Hallstead family wants. It’s not what the club needs. Mojo knows all this, but he’s a man accustomed to getting his way.

  “Right now, we’ll worry about JJ and how to get your mother and the Hallsteads under control. Once they’re dealt with, we can consider Common Bend.”

  I don’t react to his plan, but Camden is clearly pissed. My brother wants to expand south toward Nashville. He envisions a future where we have chapters of the Brotherhood throughout the state. None of his big plans involve Common Bend. In fact, with our cousin now calling the shots there, Camden is more than happy to leave it alone.

  But Camden isn’t the club president, no matter how much he likes to pretend. He can’t decide what the Brotherhood does or where it expands. I know Camden, and how he wants to force Mojo and Howler to step aside. If he makes that move, I’ll be at his side.

  So far, though, his balls haven’t gotten big enough to force our father and uncle into retirement.

  Eight - Harmony

  Taking my sisters’ advice, I call Dayton and agree to have a drink with him the next Friday. He tries to push up the day, but I tell him it’s Friday or nothing. For nearly a minute, Dayton’s silent on the line and I suspect I’ve pissed him off. Will he answer right now the question of our future together by ending things before they start?

  Dayton doesn’t bail on our Friday plans. Instead, he makes a single request before hanging up. “Wear jeans on our date. That way, you can ride my Harley easier and I won’t be tempted to yank up your skirt and get busy in front of everyone.”

  When Dayton picks me up on Friday, I’m wearing the requested jeans along with a Duran Duran T-shirt. He struts up to my door with a sly smile on his face, and I can’t help smiling back at him.

  “You look happy.”

  “I knew you’d give in,” he says, standing over me in the hot evening. “Knew you couldn’t resist getting another taste.”

  Dayton leans down and covers my mouth with his. The arrogant jerk isn’t wrong about how much I crave his flavor. For nearly two weeks, I’ve been thinking about his hands on me. His body on top of mine. Him inside me. Our night together made me a woman in a way my first time with sex didn’t.

  Tonight, we only share a kiss, but I’m craving more even if I know I shouldn’t let my hormones call the shots.

  Holding my hand, Dayton makes small talk while we head to his Harley. He asks about Keanu without using my son’s name. Even mentions my new job before struggling to feel me up when helping me onto his bike.

  I love the feel of the wind on my skin as we ride to the Brotherhood’s bar, Salty Peanuts. My fingers grip Dayton’s black T-shirt, soaking in the heat from his body. By the time we arrive, I’m wishing we stayed back at my trailer where nudity would be more appropriate.

  “It’s packed tonight,” Dayton says while helping me off his Harley. “Stay close.”

  Salty Peanuts’ overhead speakers blast Ted Nugent in the parking lot, and the music is only louder once we’re inside the bar. Unlike the Red Barn, this place is a full stop honky-tonk. I’m overwhelmed by the heat of so many people packed into one place. The mix of cologne and perfume makes me gag, but I keep my mind on enjoying a night with Dayton.

  Near the bar stand Mojo Rutgers and Howler Hallstead. They’re whooping it up with a few other club guys I recognize. In fact, I probably “know” most of the people in Salty Peanuts even if I’ve never met them. Hickory Creek Township isn’t a big place, and gossip rules.

  Standing with Camden’s cousin, JJ, is a girl I haven’t said two words to since high school. Bryana Baker was in the same grade as me, but we didn’t know each other well. I kept to myself, especially after Daisy graduated. Bryana wasn’t popular, but she was stuck-up. Her family had a little money, and she was in the gifted classes, so she viewed herself as better than the rest of us. That’s why I’m so surprised to see her at Salty Peanuts, wearing too much makeup and too few clothes.

  I don’t plan to acknowledge her. I’ve seen her a few times since school — grocery store, doctor’s office, Taco Bell — and we did a fine job pretending to be complete strangers. Now she’s gyrating so hard against JJ that their beers spill on the floor.

  “Let’s leave,” I say, stopping on a dime.

  Dayton looks around confused about why I’m no longer next to him. Turning around, he grunts. “What’s the deal?”

  “I want to leave.”

  “If it’s the stink, I can get someone to spray air freshener. Do you like a clean linen scent?” he asks, smirking.

  “It’s not the smell, and an air freshener wouldn’t defeat all this BO anyway. I just don’t want to be here.”

  “Did I miss the part where you missed the part where I said we were coming here?”

  “Do you see the woman using JJ as a wipe for her vagina?”

  Dayton glances over his shoulder at his cousin and Bryana. “You mean the pink-haired lady having a seizure?”

  Fighting a grin, I nod. “I knew her in high school, but we weren’t friends, and I don’t want to have to pretend we are now, just because we’re both, you know?”

  “What?”

  “Rubbing our vaginas on bikers.”

  “I think she’s doing more than that with JJ.”

  I poke him in the chest, my finger meeting rock-hard muscle. “I’m doing more than that with you.”

  “I know you are,” Dayton says, giving me one of his smart-ass smiles.

  “Can we just leave?”

  “Nope. I want to talk to the piece of shit you’re avoiding.”

  Before I can beg him to grow up, Dayton walks straight for JJ and Bryana. I consider remaining at the door, but a guy with a forehead tattoo comes within a few inches of me and smiles. I know he’ll end up as a puddle on the ground if Dayton notices. This idiot has enough problems with his stupid sword in the stone tat.

  Hurrying over to Dayton, I hear him ask Bryana if she used to be a stripper.

  “You look familiar is all,” he says when she tells him no.

  “Harmony, right?” JJ asks, running his bony hand through his blond hair. “This is Bryana.”

  “Yeah, we went to high school together,” I say, nodding at her.

  “Yeah.”

  “How come you weren’t BFFs?” Dayton asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Two pretty girls ought to be the best of friends.”

  I frown up at him, still hoping to avoid drama while he’s dying to start crap.

  “I was in gifted classes,” Bryana says. “She wasn’t, and that’s why we couldn’t be friends.”

  “Man, if she isn’t a frigging doll,” a smiling Dayton tells JJ. “So what do you do for a living, Miss Gifted Classes?”

  I hate how much Dayton loves fucking with people. He can’t get enough of sending even the calmest person into a rage.

  Bryana wraps her pink hair behind her ears. “I used to work at the bank, but now I’m in sales.”

  “What’s that mean?” Dayton asks, deciding he hasn’t irritated anyone to his preferred level yet. “Hookers work in sales too, but I don’t think you’re charging for pussy.”

  JJ laughs but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. Bryana just looks pissed.

  “I sell high-end food.”

  “She gives out samples at the grocery store,” I explain.

  A nasty little smile spreads over Dayton’s sexy face as his eyes focus hard on Bryana. I grab for his hand to keep him from speaking and making the tension worse.

  “So, by high-end food, you meant pizza rolls?” he taunts.

  Even though he’s the one making digs at her, Bryana glares at me. “What do you do, Harmony?”

  “I’m a home health caregiver.”

  “That’s right,” Bryana says, snapping her fingers. “I saw you the other day at the grocery store with one of your reta—”

  So much for avoiding drama.

  My rage switches on in an instant, and I throw a punch before she finishes the hateful word. Bryana tumbles backward a
s soon as my fist makes contact. Based on her expression, she’s nearly as startled as I am.

  Next to me, Dayton bursts into laughter. JJ freezes, though, while figuring out the best reaction.

  “Ow,” I whine, shaking out my hand and shocked by how much my knuckles hurt.

  “I’ll kiss it better,” Dayton says and takes my hand in his.

  “I can’t believe I hit—”

  Bryana dives for me, throwing us both to the dirty ground. My head bounces off the floor. Even stunned, I throw up my arms and prevent her wild hands from clawing my face. Bryana keeps screaming the hateful word and trying to get to my eyes. Suddenly, the weight of her lifts off me. I look up to find Dayton holding Bryana by the back of her hair.

  “Get control of your damn woman,” he says, shoving her toward JJ.

  Dayton takes my hand and pulls me up against him. “Cat fights are very much appreciated, but you need to learn how to fight better first.”

  Before I can respond, Bryana appears and slugs me in the eye. My ass hits the floor again, and Dayton grabs her by the throat. I watch them disappear into a crowd of people. New hands pull me to my feet, and I turn to find Mojo Rutgers.

  “Hard liquor will fix that right up,” he says, checking my swelling eye and then ordering me a shot of tequila.

  I don’t drink what he puts in front of me. Scanning the crowd of people, I need Dayton to get me out of Salty Peanuts. I’ve been in the bar for less than ten minutes, and I’ve already started a fight I couldn’t finish. This place is an even worse influence on me than Dayton.

  Appearing from the crowd, my sexy troublemaker struts to the bar. His smirk fades when he spots his dad at my side.

  “You smack around JJ’s whore?” Mojo asks.

  “I don’t lower myself to hitting chicks,” Dayton says, maneuvering me so I’m behind him and away from Mojo. “I asked the club sluts to prove their worth by seeing how much hair they could tear out of the bitch’s head. The winner gets to spend the night with you, so I’d clear your calendar, Father.”

  A smiling Mojo nods at his son’s comment before disappearing to wherever the cat fight is taking place. JJ remains silent through the entire incident. I catch him watching Dayton in the same way a cat studies a distracted bird.