I walked toward the two guys, sizing up the situation. Saturday nights were always busy and this was no exception. One of them I knew well, a Skull. The other didn’t look familiar. I didn’t think he was a Reaper, but you never knew. Who would have guessed that owning a bar could feel so much like being a high school principal? If the high school happened to be in the middle of rival gang territory in L.A.

“How we doin’, guys?” I asked in my well-worn “let’s all settle down” voice. The Skull darted a look at me from the corner of his eye. He knew enough to understand I would not let shit go down in my bar. The other guy, though? He might need an education.

“You want another beer?” I tried good cop on the guy I didn’t recognize. But he didn’t take the easy way out. Instead, his jaw flexed, eyes narrowing in on the man he intended to harm. Not in my bar, if I had my way, and I usually did.

“Let’s take it outside, gentlemen.” I caught the eye of one of my bouncers, adding some “what the fuck is taking you so long?” into my glance. They needed to be on this type of thing. Along with my business partner, Tommy, I owned the place. I couldn’t afford to be the guy kicking ass and taking names, which also meant making enemies. I paid people to do that shit. But somehow I always seemed to be the one with my finger on the pulse, sensing the violence before it erupted. Guess I’d been around it long enough to know it intimately.

I caught the punch before it landed, swiftly grabbing the guy’s arm and twisting it up behind his back while I kicked the back of his knee, making him lose his balance. It helped that he was drunk. Sober and weighing in around 225, I easily had the upper hand. And a lot of backup. Finally kicking into gear, a couple of bouncers took it from there, leading the much more compliant Skull and his nemesis outside where they could do whatever the hell they wanted. At least fifty feet away from my property.

“Now, what can I get you ladies?” Swooping three pretty young things under my arms, I ushered them toward the bar. I’d learned a lot over the years about diffusing and distracting. Better to have girls happily flirting and drinking than standing and gawking. The last thing drunk guys needed was an audience to show off their prowess. Some people thought gladiatorial displays had gone out of style with the Romans. I knew better.

I kept them occupied for a few minutes, turning on my practiced skills. To be honest, it didn’t take much. It probably sounded egotistical, but my experience was that if I wore a short-sleeved T-shirt and stood around, big arms crossed over my big chest, it didn’t take long for a woman to start running her hands along my muscles. Add to that the fact that I was the owner, and I basically had it made.

Funny, though, standing there surrounded by hot girls in short skirts, my mind wandered to that delicious little nurse’s aide I usually saw when I visited Ace. Sky was like a ripe, juicy peach, so fresh, sweet and rounded just right. She didn’t seem to know how sexy she was, her curvy ass and full breasts always hidden in baggy scrubs. She barely even wore any makeup, though she did blush easily. That faint pink flush stealing across her cheeks gave me all kinds of nasty ideas. I’d like to pink her up all over.

I was careful, though. I kept the brakes on around her. I’d never done anything more than exchange a few casual words when she checked in on Ace.

She was married. I could see the ring on her finger, plus Griller had introduced me to her when she’d first moved to town. She probably didn’t remember, but I did. Her brute of a husband had brought her by my bar, showing her off like a prize he’d won at the county fair. I’d wondered why such a beauty had teamed up with that beast, especially since I knew Griller wasn’t going to turn into a prince one day. He was never going to learn manners and waltz around with her while a candlestick sang.

I hadn’t understood the match even before I’d learned how kind and thoughtful Sky was, always helping everyone around her, brightening everyone’s days. She remembered little details about every resident in that home, making each of them feel special. When I saw her in the courtyard or the dining hall, I couldn’t help but watch her like some sort of hulking stalker in the corner, riveted by her easy grace as she laughed, brushing her hair behind her ears, her lyrical voice greeting and chatting. She treated everyone around her right. I had to wonder, was she getting the same treatment from her man?

But I knew Sky’s business wasn’t mine. She wasn’t my woman to have and to hold. Yet attraction was attraction. You couldn’t fight chemistry, it was either there or it wasn’t. And for some reason it was there in a big way with Sky. Maybe it was the pies. I’d grown addicted, thinking about the soft and curvy woman who’d baked them every time I sat down for a slice, then usually ate half the damn pie in one sitting.

Crowd dispersed, conflict avoided for at least the time being, I took my favorite post, standing behind the corner of the bar where I could survey all the action. The bar was packed. I guess you could say it was a rough crowd. To tell the truth, I knew a lot of bad guys. Some people might say that made me one of them. I didn’t see it that way.

Over in the corner, I spotted a guy pawing at a woman like she was puppy chow and he was a mangy mutt who hadn’t had a meal in a week. I’d give him a minute to settle down. Then, if he hadn’t stopped, I’d see to it that he did.

I loved owning a bar. I swear I did. But sometimes I wondered if I’d picked the wrong location.

I’d moved back to Cavallo four years ago, mostly to be near Ace. He was the only family I had left in what I guess could be considered my hometown. I’d moved around a lot in my 27 years, starting off in Cavallo, then doing time everywhere from Massachusetts to Florida, where my father was last we spoke, to Texas where my mother was shacked up with her latest boyfriend. But Ace had come through for me when no one else wanted to, back when I was 16 and fresh out of juvie.

Ace had taken me in, under the condition that I cut out all the bullshit. Somehow, he’d made me listen to him. I’d straightened out, gotten my high school diploma, and then roamed around some until Ace had himself a heart attack. When that happened, I’d moved back to Cavallo. I figured after all he’d done for me, the least I could do was check in on the guy from time to time and be there if he needed some help.

I was glad I’d come back to Cavallo, gratified that I co-owned Ace Bar and Lounge, but those damn motorcycle clubs kicked up a hell of a lot of drama. Some days I felt like I was in a housewives reality show only much more bloody. Sometimes I thought about what it would be like to run a bar someplace mellow and chill. Maybe a vacation destination where people just wanted to relax.

Looking over at the mangy mutt, I saw he’d gone from bad to worse. The woman now had a seriously pissed off look on her face, but his hand kept trying to dive on up her skirt. With two fingers, I signaled to a bouncer over in the corner. He stepped in, broke it up and then, reluctantly, headed over in response to my demanding look.

“Hey, boss.” He sounded a hell of a lot like a kid that had been sent to the principal’s office.

“You know what I’m going to say.” I kept my eyes on the crowd.

“Yeah.” He looked all hangdog.

“I need you on shit before it starts. Not just responding when I tell you.”

“I know.” He agreed, though I could tell there was a “but” coming.

“But?” I prompted. Better to clear the air than let things fester.

“But we’re a biker bar, boss.”

“We are a bar that is open to one and all, including bikers. We are not a biker bar.”

I was getting tired of explaining that. It wasn’t that I looked down on bikers. Hell, my ride was parked right outside. I cruised around on my chopper with the best of them. With my shaved head, leather jacket and tattoos plus my sheer size, I was sure most people assumed I was in a motorcycle club, myself.

But that was the thing. I’d never much liked the labels other people put on me. Thug. Wrong side of the tracks. Criminal. Just because I felt right at home among all that, didn’t mean it defined me. Joining a motorcycle club and pledging allegiance to someone else’s bloody code of tribal honor would never be my choice. I lived life on my own terms, even if that made me a lone wolf.

Late Monday morning I got a text.

Zeke: headin your way tonight

Aw, shit. Zeke was coming to my bar? The man had some balls. Skulls owned west of L.A.; Iron Reapers owned the east. Skulls hung out at Ace Bar and Lounge. Reapers did not. But Zeke never did what he was told. And I had to admit, it was part of what I liked about him.

Zeke and I went way back. We hadn’t seen each other in a few months, not since around Thanksgiving and here it was early February, but that didn’t matter. We could go a year or more and get right back into a groove. It was like that with people you’d known since you were kids, especially if you’d gone through some shit together. Zeke and I had both done time in juvie when we were 15. He’d had a longer sentence than mine, but the nine months we’d overlapped we’d shared a cell. He’d had my back, I’d had his and we hadn’t stopped since.

Funny how going through hell with someone could form a lifelong friendship. I could count on one hand the friends I’d trust with my life. Actually, I didn’t even need all five fingers for Zeke, Liam, Chase, and Ian. What did we all have in common? Nearly dying together. Back in juvie, Zeke and I had fought for each other like animals locked in a pen.

As for Liam, Chase and Ian? One night had bound us together, changing the rest of our lives. We’d had no clue it was going to, of course. We’d been 14, dumb as fuck with all the arrogance of early adolescence. Ian and I had stolen a boat and not thought twice about it. What could go wrong? It was a harmless joyride. Liam and Chase had agreed, hopping on board without a moment’s hesitation.

Growing up, my dad worked construction and my mom cleaned houses. My family hadn’t exactly gone boating. I’d had no clue how lost we could get once the sun went down and a storm hit. It never even entered my mind as a remote possibility that a wall of water the size of a two-story building could appear out of nowhere and smash our boat in two.

That accident had sent me spiraling down, literally and figuratively. Thank God all of us had lived, but not all of us had walked away like I had. Ian was in a wheelchair for life. The sight of him trapped under a fallen, fiery mast would haunt me until the day I died. I’d landed in juvie not long afterward, and when I’d gotten out neither my mom nor my dad had wanted anything to do with me. It turned out when you stole a boat and sank it, then got caught dealing pot, plus breaking and entering, your parents got pretty pissed off.

But not Ace. He’d taken me in when no one else would. I swore I’d never forget what he’d done for me as long as I lived.

I took a shower and decided it was a good time for a visit. Mondays I usually took the whole day off, working out then heading over to see Ace. But with Zeke stopping by, it looked like today I should visit first, then head over to the bar. I needed to be there to keep things running smooth.

Outside the front entrance of the Cavallo Canyon home, a woman was selling flowers. I had a crazy impulse to buy some roses. But not for Ace.

That was why I didn’t buy them. What would Sky think if a big, gruff guy like me showed up bringing her flowers? She’d probably freak out, maybe get mad. She’d likely flash her ring at me and hop on the phone to that husband of hers. Then he’d cause a scene. I could handle him. I’d already done it once or twice at my bar when he’d gotten too drunk for his own good.

But I had enough sense to stop myself from doing it. Even though, walking up the stairs, I still pictured Sky’s face, all rosy and happy, looking down at the flowers, then up at me. Logic didn’t seem to figure in too well when it came to Sky. It didn’t make sense that I looked for her as I walked down the hallway to Ace’s apartment. Or that when I knocked at his door, I hoped she’d be the one to open up, getting all flushed and shy when she saw me.

No Sky in sight, Ace and I had a good visit, like we always did. We played some Gin Rummy out on his patio, enjoying the sunshine and people-watching. Ace was quite the popular guy, enjoying the attention of more than a few of the local ladies.

“What’re you laughing about, old man?” he asked me after he got two women in their 70s giggling like school girls over his compliments.

“Just admiring your game, Ace.” I chuckled, marveling at how smooth he was. I did all right with women, but I mostly attributed that to being big and strong. I’d learned as a teenager the power of bulking up, in more ways than one, and I’d been hitting the weights ever since. But suave pick-up lines? That was Ace’s department, all the way.

“You’re looking for Sky,” he observed, catching me glancing around again.

“No.” My protest convinced no one.

“Yes, you are, and if I were your age I’d be doing the exact same thing. Now read ‘em and weep.” He laid his cards down in sets, throwing the final card onto the table to signal victory.

I shook my head, disgusted with myself for multiple reasons. Only a low down dawg lusted after a married woman. I should be ashamed of myself. I was ashamed of myself. It stopped me from doing anything more than looking around for her and then, once I found her, looking at her. She had to think I was a little soft in the head the way I stared at her. I’d seen her at least two dozen times over the past year Ace had lived there, but I never said much. Because the things I thought about saying to her weren’t the kinds of things I should say to another man’s wife.

Ace and I hung out until around four. Then I excused myself, explaining how Zeke was planning on heading up to the bar tonight.

“You better get your ass over there and stop the fights before they break out.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” See, Ace knew what was what. He’d known Zeke a long time, and knew he was in the Reapers. But he didn’t give me any lectures, no stern words of warning. Ace trusted me to do the right thing. I wasn’t sure why, but he always had. And it made me trust myself.

As I was heading out, I finally got what I’d been looking for. Sky was heading down the hallway, struggling with an awkward, heavy-looking cart. Hands behind her to drag it, straining with effort, her full breasts pushed against her shirt. It gave me all kinds of wrong ideas.

“Here, let me help you.” I took a few long strides to catch up with her and grabbed the metal cart with my much-larger hands. She looked up with surprise, then damn if she didn’t smile up at me like the sun breaking through the clouds. Her eyes were the color of her name, so light blue, and her wavy, honey brown hair framed her face in soft waves. If I could see that smile every day, like I’d performed some kind of heroic magic, I’d die a happy man.

“Thank you!” She rubbed her wrist, then tucked it under her other arm. “That cart is crazy.”

“One of the wheels is stuck.” I pushed it back and forth, figuring out which one was giving her trouble.

“I can barely get it down the hallway, but I’ve got to deliver these books.”

“Why don’t you grab a few for the people who live close by? Leave the cart with me and I’ll give it a quick look.”

“Really?” She looked delighted. I guessed I didn’t have to buy her roses after all to see that look on her face. Her smile glowed even brighter than I’d imagined. Still, she seemed reluctant and a little shy to take me up on my offer. She gave a few more protests about how I didn’t need to take the time, like maybe she wasn’t all that used to accepting help.

“It’ll only take a minute,” I assured her.

She agreed, walking off to make some deliveries. I shuffled the remaining books off the cart, flipped it on its side, unscrewed the wheel and tightened it up with a tool on my Swiss army knife. The whole thing was back assembled, restocked and moving easily before she’d even finished.

But I didn’t leave. I couldn’t just abandon those books. Plus, sticking around might have something to do with wanting to see Sky again before I left. The few times I’d come to visit Ace and not seen her at all, I’d left deflated and disappointed. Even a brief interaction didn’t feel like enough anymore. I tried not to think about how fucked up that was.

Killing time, I checked out the books: mysteries and romances. Some of the romance novels had impressive covers, with bare-chested swashbuckling pirates and aristocratic, broad-shouldered dukes.

“Are you interested in borrowing that one?” Sky asked in a cheeky tone. The minx had sidled up to me without my realizing it and caught me checking out one of the steamier paperbacks.

“Spicy books they have here.” I put it back onto the cart.

“Tell me about it. I’m the one who has to read them out loud.”

“You do?” That I’d like to hear. She nodded, blushing a little. “Even the sex scenes?”

She burst out with a peal of laughter, the merry sound lifting up into the hallway. “They’d never forgive me if I skipped the best parts!”

“I’d like to hear you read those.” That came out huskier than I’d intended. She looked down and away. “Anyway, your cart’s fixed.” I took a few steps toward the stairwell in retreat. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks, Jax.”

“You’re welcome, Sky.” As I walked down toward the front entrance, I thought that might have been the first time she’d used my name. I liked hearing it on her lips. She was usually reserved around me, not meeting my eyes. I wasn’t too surprised. I was a big, tough looking guy. Though her husband was, too, so that shouldn’t be too off-putting to her.

Scowling, I slipped on my sunglasses. What was I doing, thinking about some other man’s woman? But I kept right on doing exactly that as I rode on over to my bar. She had such a sensual mouth. Those full lips, even with no lipstick they looked plump and delectable, tempting me to kiss, lick and bite.

I didn’t like the thought of her with Griller. I didn’t know him well, but from what I’d seen of him I didn’t want to know him any better. Messing with his woman was asking for trouble.

Speaking of, Zeke was standing outside my bar when I arrived. He and another guy, I assumed a fellow Reaper, were smoking cigarettes, their shoulders hunched, their eyes shifty and alert. As I walked toward them, Zeke broke out into a grin.

“What are you doing showing up here?” I asked. “You wanna be startin something?”

“Long live the King of Pop, brother.” Zeke hugged me with one arm, thumped his chest with the other, then held his fingers up in a peace sign to the dearly departed.

“You’ll be lucky if you get a dance-off in there.” I jerked my head toward the bar. Not all gang fights got settled like they did in a Michael Jackson music video.

“You know I’d win a dance-off.” Zeke gave me a cocky smile. He hadn’t changed a bit in the 10-plus years I’d known him.

“Who’s your friend?” I nodded toward his silent companion.

“Cotton here’s a good guy. Nothing to worry about.” The guy looked a little too jumpy for my taste. I’d bet good money he had a Glock inside his jacket and a switchblade in his back pocket. And I bet he liked using them both.

But Zeke was like family, so he and whatever he dragged along with him were welcome in my house. That didn’t mean they needed to walk in through the front door, though.

“C’mon in over here.” I led them in through the side entrance, then took them into my office. They’d already attracted enough attention as it was. Going on four years running the place, I’d gained trust in the community. Most of the Skulls knew I was tight with a Reaper and accepted it, even respected the fact that I’d done some time. Then again, trust turned on a dime with those guys.

Closing the door, I settled into an armchair. “All right, man. Tell me what the hell you’re doing here.” Zeke and I hung out from time to time, but never on this turf. Sometimes he’d come visit if I had a party over at my place, or we’d meet up at a bar we both liked down the coast about a half an hour. But this was not a social call.

Zeke and his buddy exchanged a brief look. I could read Cotton’s unspoken question, “You sure he’s cool?” and Zeke’s reassurance, “He’s cool.” Then Zeke explained to me, “We’re looking for a guy.”

I nodded, unsurprised. Revenge in the form of blood was a way of life for these clubs.

“His name’s Griller. You know him?”

Now I felt a little surprised. They were after Sky’s husband. But I’d been around the block enough times to keep my thoughts hidden behind an impenetrable wall of no reaction whatsoever. I gave a neutral reply. “I know all the Skulls.”

“Griller’s the one we want,” the jumpy guy piped up. Moving forward in his seat, I could tell he was eager to give me the whole story. “He’s—”

“I don’t want to know why.” Hands up, I stopped him from briefing me on all the gory details. The only way I stayed impartial, among clubs but not in bed with them, was by staying one step removed.

“Sure, sure.” Zeke flashed Cotton a “calm the fuck down” glance. “We’re not trying to drag you into this.”

“You’re not?” Sarcasm weighed down my words.

“Listen, all I’m trying to say is the guy’s a Grade A psychopath. He’s gone too far.”

And that was said by Zeke, a man I was pretty sure had a multiple body count to his name. So that was saying something. I hadn’t liked the idea of Sky with Griller even before knowing that. Was this Grade A psychopath hurting her? “OK.” I nodded.

“OK?” Zeke looked at me, questioning how far I’d be willing to go.

“I hear you.” I held back the protective growl forming deep in my throat, urging me to act swift and strong to protect Sky. Because life was more complicated than a mythical fable of good vs. evil. I might want to draw my sword and strike down the dragon, but in reality sometimes the maiden in distress didn’t want to be rescued. Griller might be a bastard, but he was Sky’s husband and she might be in love with him.

Plus, it wasn’t as if handing over a brother to another club would go down quiet. I’d spent the past four years building up my professional reputation as a reliable, neutral party. Ratting someone out would blow up all the trust I’d earned. It wasn’t completely out of the question, but an extreme measure would require extreme motivation.

“Will you keep an eye out for him?” Zeke asked.

Setting my beer onto a table, I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands clasped together before me. I made eye contact with Cotton, then Zeke, making sure I had their complete attention.

“Zeke,” I began. “One day, if you come to me and tell me you have a sick kid, or someone’s threatening your wife, I will stop at nothing to help you. But you come here and tell me a guy from the Skulls is messing with the Reapers?” I shrugged.

Cotton started out of his seat, but Zeke put out his hand, motioning for him to sit still. “I hear you, man.” Zeke looked at me, assessing and respecting my words. “But if you happen to see this motherfucker—”

“Got it.” I rose. “Now if you two gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got a bar to run.”

The two of them left out the side door, climbing on their bikes without incident. I headed out onto the floor, checking in with the manager on duty and the bartender. Monday nights were easy.

Standing where I could watch it all, I wondered when Griller would next walk into my bar. And I wondered what, if anything, I’d do about it. Zeke had clearly not changed his ways, nor would he ever. He was still up to the same old shit and always would be. My time in juvie hadn’t exactly sent me running in the opposite direction. I’d never be an FBI agent or a cop. But I’d stayed on the right side of the law since then, even if most guys I knew didn’t. Still, no matter how much I tried to avoid it, trouble seemed to follow me around, dogging my path.

A woman gave an extra swing to her hips as she approached, flashing me a sultry smile. I could see a good three inches of deep cleavage down her clingy V-neck. She’d be fun, I was sure. A simple good time, the way I usually liked it.

It made no sense that instead I pictured Sky. Dragging that awkward cart behind her, her top had twisted tight across her chest. I wanted to take that shirt off and see her straining and panting for a whole other reason.

“Good to see you, Jax.” The woman in front of me pressed a hand to my chest and ground against my hip.

“Hope you have a good night tonight.” I gave her a dismissive nod, keeping my attention on the room as a whole. She scowled and left.

I was clearly losing my mind, turning away a woman ready to go in a tight little skirt, choosing instead to stand alone and think about one in uniform scrubs. But it went beyond physical attraction with Sky. There was a story to her, one I wanted to learn. I could see hints of it in those sky-colored eyes, so guarded at times, so open at others. I could see it in the way her face transformed when she laughed, all traces of worry vanished for a few seconds of joy. I wanted to unravel who she was as much as I wanted to undress her.

But she happened to be married to a Grade A psychopath, according to Zeke. I swore under my breath, not liking the knowledge I now had. Trouble had followed me all my life. Trouble was written all over Sky. That must be why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.