I’d come in early to do the usual bar stuff, take out empty beer kegs, clean the lines and hook up new kegs. I was down behind the bar when I heard a familiar voice.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

I had to be hearing things. No way was she here.

I popped up, and saw it was Jen.

“Hey, Raz. I didn’t know if you’d be here.”

“Jen…” What the hell was she doing here?

She smiled and said, “Glad I found you.”

It was only the day after the funeral, but hey, I was glad she found me, too. Maybe it was a good sign. She’d come looking for me, seeking me out. Me. Not Brad.

“Hey, Jen.” I glanced at the red and white wall clock with the Budweiser logo. “Kind of early, don’t you think? Or do you always frequent dive bars the morning after a funeral?”

Shit. What a douchebag thing to say.

Except she gave me a smile. “Clever, but isn’t this standard procedure? Hang out in a bar the day after a funeral? Drown your sorrows and all that?”

I went with it. “Hmm, maybe, but you’re too pretty and classy to be caught in a dive like this, don’t you think?”

She smiled again and stopped at the end of the bar, pushed her long hair out of her face. Damn, she was sexy as hell.

I wiped my hands on a bar rag, and wondered if I might need it to wipe the drool from my chin, too. Jen had gotten hotter than a Savannah night since I used to know her.

She stood with a wide stance, her weight shifted to the side, causing one hip to curve out in the most delicious pose. Ripped jeans stretched over long legs, and patches of bare skin peeked through the rips in a heart-stopping manner. It was enough to make my cock wake. Make me want to run my hands down those long legs, over that ass, bury my nose in all that long hair. Then I noticed the black stilettos and my heart flipped.

I looked at my watch – well actually, I just looked at my wrist like an idiot. I wasn’t wearing a watch, but she had me so flustered, I had to check the time again in disbelief. Why fuck-me heels at this time of day? Not like I gave a shit. All the better for me to get my rocks off next time I was in the shower.

She leaned casually on the bar, and we locked eyes, hers blazing. I froze. It felt like I’d been caught with my pants down and my cock sky high.

The look she was giving me, told me she knew what I was thinking.

Her gaze swept over my face. “At first, I wasn’t sure I liked the beard, but on you…” Her brows lifted. “I’d say...it works.”

She followed with a seductive pull of her teeth across her lower lip that blossomed into a smile.

Fuck me, she was hot.

I turned away for a moment to catch my breath. And to adjust myself. I tossed the rag I was holding onto the top of the bar. I’d been twisting it and wringing it as we talked.

When I turned back around, Jen was taking a good long look around the bar. I took a moment to pull my shit together, squelched the image of fucking her on the top of the bar, and then looked around myself, a little embarrassed by the disheveled look of my business. Well, hell, it was a dive a bar. What did I expect? That she’d be impressed with what she saw?

The place was pretty much empty except for Rawley, slumped at the opposite end of the bar, wearing a Saints of Sin patch on the back of his jacket, looking sorrier than ever.

Jen’s eyes landed on Rawley. “Liquid breakfast?” she asked, looking at the guy and his beer. “Most people drink coffee first thing in the morning, not beer.” She straightened from leaning on the bar, and moved a step closer so she was directly in front of me. Thank god the bar was still between us.

I put my dick back in my pants...metaphorically speaking...and pulled myself together by attempting another witty come back. “Real men drink whiskey. Pour it on my fucking Cornflakes every morning.”

I came around from behind bar.

“Breakfast of champions,” I joked as I walked out to meet her.

She laughed a little short laugh.

She tipped her head in the lone drinker’s direction and said, “He looks like someone chewed him up and spit him out.”

I threw a glance over my shoulder at Rawley. He tipped his beer to his mouth, a small mouth that looked disgruntled – the mouth of a man who believed the world was against him, and had plenty of evidence to prove it.

“He spent the night in the back room. Old lady kicked him out last night after a fight.” I jabbed a thumb behind me. “We keep a bed back there for just such instances...or members too drunk to ride, either way.”

“Good to know.” Jen nodded and peered past me to the back hallway. “What’s back there behind that door?” She pointed with her chin at a wooden door with the Saints' emblem carved into the wood.

“That?” I turned back and shrugged. “Just a spare room. Kind of an office, I guess you’d say.”

“Not a secret meeting room?” This time, there was a teasing lilt in her voice. “Like in spy movies where there’s a whole secret operation with mad scientists tweaking human brains to make super humans?”

I stared at her for a second before answering. “Um, no. Just an empty room with a desk and a table.”

The truth. Sort of. It was where the Saints held church – club meetings. But it wasn't a good idea to tell Jen too much right now. I was curious, though.

“Why do you ask?”

Jen shrugged. “If I’m gonna work here, I’ll need to know my way around the place.”

My eyebrows shot up, and my heart did one of those weird flips. Work here?

“Is that why you came in? For a job?” I tilted my head and gave a charming smile. “And here I thought you came to see me.”

“Well, I did. I came to see you...about a waitress job.”

Strange. “I didn’t think they taught waitressing skills in the Marines.” I shrugged. “Here have a seat.”

I pulled out a bar stool and she slid onto it. I took the one next to her.

“Don’t you want a job as a police officer, or security guard, or something like that?” I could’ve sworn Charlie told me she was in the Military Police. “I’d say you’re a bit over qualified with your background.”

She laughed again, and gave a sweeping glance of the bar. “I do know how to beat someone down with a nightstick, and use a gun, if necessary, and from the looks of this place...those skills might come in handy.”

“Aw, come on now, don’t be a hater. I think my bar looks like a Royal Palace, if I don’t say so myself. And we only attract the finest clients, don’t you think?” I gestured toward Rawley and hoped I didn't sound bitter. I couldn’t imagine why Jen, or anyone would come looking for a job at a dive bar.

She leaned in and put a hand on my arm. “I’m tougher than you think.”

We locked eyes, and a jolt of electricity skittered across my skin. I wondered what it’d be like to trail my fingers down her bare arms, pull her close, kiss those pouty lips. To have Jen working here, near me...man, that’d be fucking awesome.

Her smile dimmed for a second, and she pulled back, with a sidelong glance at a couple who'd started dancing the moment they came in. I didn't need to ask why. Skin didn't look happy, even though the guy had his hands all over her.

Jen tipped her head in their direction. “Who’s she? The town bike? Ridden by everyone?”

I snorted a laugh. Jen was good at assessing people. I’d give her that. “You mean, Skin...I mean, Amina?” I nodded in her direction.

“Yeah. Why’s she called Skin?”

I grinned. “Cause on any given day, she wears more skin than clothes.”

“Hmm, I’ll stop asking questions now.” The corner of her mouth quirked up into a grin. “Don’t know if I can call her Skin, though. Amina works better for me.”

“Right.” Jen got it.

Skin had a sleeve of ink covering one arm, and enough tattoos on other body parts to keep Craig at Graphic Ink well-funded into his retirement years. Though the way Craig smoked and ate monster burritos loaded with heaps of heart-clogging cheddar, doubted he’d make it to his golden years.

“Aspiring to be someone’s old lady, I guess.” I nearly snorted a laugh. My old lady, actually, but fuck that shit. Then I noticed Skin shooting dirty looks in Jen’s direction. No doubt wondering who her new competition was.

I called over to the guy slow dancing with her. “Hey, take that shit somewhere else.”

Skin broke the dance off, and the guy picked up his head where it’d been buried in her neck, sliding his hands off her tight ass. She turned toward me with a pout, and the young stud draped his arm over her shoulder, shooting a steel look at me, as if warning me to stay away from her. I glared at him. He knew better than that. Not that I wanted Skin, but still, I was VP of this club and a lower club member shouldn’t challenge me. Unless she was an old lady, if I wanted her, he couldn't say shit about it.

“Sorry about that,” I said as Skin dragged the guy outside.

I knew damn well she'd been watching me. That she saw the way I was looking at Jen...and maybe how Jen was looking at me.

“Well, anyway, about the job, I guess I could hire a cute…” Something occurred to me. “Wait a minute, don’t you already have a job? I mean, aren’t you still in the Marines? I just assumed you were here on leave for the funeral.”

“About that...I lied.”

My brows shot up to my hairline. What the fuck?

“What do you mean you lied?”

“I’m not exactly in the military any more.” She spoke carefully, like she was trying to figure out how to word things.

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want my parents to know just yet, but...I got out of the Marines…oh, about a few months ago, I guess by now.”

I was glad to dodge that bullet. I didn't need any kind of law enforcement in here, military or not, considering...

“So what have you been up to since then?”

“Nothing much, just worked a small security guard job, but that wasn’t going anywhere, so when I booked my flight to come home, I told them I quit.” She gave me a smile. “So you see, I need a job, and since I’m here, and you own this place, I thought maybe you’d help me out.”

“Well, working here isn’t exactly a career move.”

“I know, I know, I just want to make a little money while I look for another job, probably out of state. You know, have some cash to move with.”

Man, I was torn. On the one hand, I really liked the idea of Jen working here. On the other hand, I didn’t want her ruined, her eye blackened by this fucked up life. Look what it'd done to Charlie. Hell, look what it'd done to me. Even I wanted out. She wanted in, and considering it made me an even more selfish son of a bitch than I already was.

But I lost the battle when I looked in her beautiful eyes. Maybe this was a second chance. Maybe fate had dropped Jen at my door for a reason. Hell, who knew, maybe I’d finally be able to rid my bar of the shit storm, if that was even possible. Maybe I'd give it all up even. Walk away and not look back. Just keep looking forward. I looked at Jen again, and stifled the insane urge to lean forward and stroke her cheek, pull her against my body. I’d give it all up for a chance with her. The thought surprised me.

I eyed her. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll hire you, but part-time is all I can offer...if you go out with me.”

“You mean on a date?” She leaned back. “Oh, well...I don’t know…”

She pushed her hair back with one hand, a nervous gesture, clearly not realizing what it did to me.

“A date, huh?”

“Just as friends, really. I promise. Friends. That’s all.” Wasn't all I wanted, but I'd take what I could get.

She stuck her hand out. “Okay. Deal.”

I tried to ignore the heat as I shook her hand.

“Great.” I reluctantly let her hand slip from mine, and leaned against the bar, my eyes raking up and down her body. “You can start tomorrow, after we go out tonight.”

“Tonight? I thought maybe you meant we’d go out like, sometime. As in sometime later...ish.”

She looked...nervous, almost giddy.

I liked it.

“Tonight is sometime, isn’t it?”

She laughed, and I liked that I made her do that. “Okay, you got me on that one.”

“And tomorrow we can start with a short training session first, just to get you familiar with the bar and everything. I’ll put you on the day shift for starters. Days are lighter, less rowdy drunks to deal with.”

She straightened and threw her shoulders back. Her confidence returned. “Like I said, I can handle myself. I’m no shrinking violet.”

“Mmm, that you’re not.” I caught myself smiling as I rubbed my hand across my chin.

Her breasts peeked at me from the opening at the top of her shirt. God, she had nice tits...and those legs. I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to the patches of bare skin exposed through the open fabric up and down her legs. Damn that was sexy. Just like the rest of her. Then a horrible thought struck me and my hands curled into fists.

“You’re so damn hot, one look at you and these uncultured slobs are gonna to be all over you.”

A blush of pink rose in her cheeks.

She lifted her eyes to mine and I lowered my voice a notch. “And then I’ll be jealous.”

“You flatter me, Raz.”

Her eyes flashed a look of desire, or at least that’s what I wanted to believe. If she hadn’t just agreed to work for me, I might have given her the kiss flirting in the air between us.

Then as quickly as it came, the look faded and her demeanor changed.

“So, looks like I have a job. Mom will be so proud.” She didn't try to hide the sarcasm. “I’ll come in around...what time do you want me here?”

I wanted her here now. I didn't give a fuck about the job. I swear, some invisible thread was pulling us together because I actually swayed on the barstool.

Jen working at my bar. I began imagining what it’d be like, speculating about all the fun I could have with her in the same room for hours on end. The delicious rush of brushing past her with her drink tray, surrounded by a thick crowd. Smiling at her across the bar as I handed her the orders, and then from across the room as I watched her work the tables.

“Don’t go,” I blurted out. This time I leaned forward a little bit too much and had to catch myself. Damnit. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized I said them out loud.

She looked puzzled for a minute, then laughed. “You want to start training right now?”

I recovered from my digression into stupidity and said, “No, sorry. I didn’t mean that...er, actually, I did, but...no, seriously, tomorrow works. Tomorrow is fine.”

I jumped off the bar stool, took her arm, and started walking her to the door. I needed to get her out of here before I made an even bigger fool of myself. Except that obviously wasn’t working because she wore a puzzled look.

“Okay, Raz.”

I sent her off without another word, watching as she walked to her car, her ass making those jeans look even better than I first imagined.

Maybe her coming here was a good thing. Maybe she was meant to be here. But I had to be careful. She couldn't know too much about club business, so I planned on giving her limited day shifts. I’d need to keep her out of the bar when the club had meetings here instead of out in the desert at an old abandoned mobile home. It had a huge underground room the size of a basement and was best for anything that absolutely had to be kept a secret. Everything that could tie the Saints to illegal activities was kept there. That way if the bar was raided, no evidence could be found. The old mobile home looked empty from the road, and even if someone walked right up to it.

Acer wasn't gonna like that I hired Jen, but I didn’t give a damn. I’d convince him.

Somehow.