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“What’s with the long face?” Her younger sister Melody had asked her something similar twice already tonight. Aria was up to three or four.

Was she that transparent? “I’m fine.” Except for the fact that Viper—she would make a point to get his real name out of him the next time she saw him—had stood her up.

She had gone out of her way to make him the dinner he wanted, and he hadn’t even shown up to eat it.

“Do I smell pot roast? That wasn’t on the menu.”

“I made it. If you want it, have it.”

Melody studied her. “Is this about that guy who hung out here all night trying to get your attention? Are you trying to impress him? Because your pot roast would certainly do that.”

Rick had sat on the barstool closest to the kitchen window where the waitresses put up their food-order tickets and took the meals out to customers. He stared at her mostly, then he started trying to carry on a conversation with her through the window. It was a lot of yelling because the place was so loud during the rush. He tried to come back to talk to her while she worked, but she’d put an end to that, telling him customers weren’t allowed in her kitchen. She and her staff worked in concert with each other. It was chaotic and potentially dangerous with all the hot burners, pots, pans, and people moving around. They had a rhythm, a shorthand, and knew how to stay out of each other’s way.

Rick did not and would only annoy her and the others by distracting them all.

“I’m not interested in him.”

Melody gave her a half frown. “Are you stress-cooking again?”

She did that sometimes. “No. I just wanted to make it.” She’d had it for dinner. Alone. Sincehehadn’t shown up. “See if Aria and Jax want some, too, before I put it away.” Maybe she’d make pot-roast sandwiches tomorrow for the crew. A perk of the job.

Her staff did not go hungry. Ever.

Melody didn’t move, just stood there eyeing her. They were all so close; if anyone seemed off, one of the siblings, if not all, would know it with a look. “Areyou sure you’re all right? Is it that biker guy who always comes in?”

“Why would you ask about him?”

Melody’s eyes filled with knowing. “You two have your thing.”

“What thing? There’s no thing.” Maybe there was a thing. A thing she wanted but wasn’t sure if it would be a good thing.

If she kissed him, she’d know.

Kissing told a lot about a person and how they felt about you.

“You’re awfully defensive. Whatever.” Melody dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Keep it to yourself. Just be careful.”

“There is nothing going on.” Even if she wished that wasn’t true. They’d had a moment today. Well, not exactly a romantic moment, but some kind of something. A normal conversation, at least. Then again, not exactly.

She was kidding herself if she thought a guy like him and someone like... Wait a second. That was so not the right kind of thing to think. She didn’t judge people like that and she wasn’t about to put other people’s perceptions of him in her head and think they were real when he’d been nothing but... nice? Yes, nice. In his way. And maybe he only showed that side of himself to her. Or so it seemed.

But then he hadn’t shown up.

Maybe he had a good reason.

She gave him the benefit of the doubt, pulled out her phone, and texted him.

LYRIC:You didn’t show for dinner. Are you okay?

She read the message over three times and decided it wasn’t too forward or desperate, just concerned, and sent it.

And waited for a response.

Chapter Four

Fuck my life!

Viper read the text message from sweet Lyric. He stared out the windshield of the truck he was in with one of the guys from the Wild WolvesMotorcycle Club and wished he didn’t have murder on his mind. He felt terribly guilty for standing her up. Not that it was a date or anything. Still, it would have been a chance to talk to her again, have a real conversation. Over a meal she’d made for him. Instead he was sitting in a deserted parking lot waiting for a guy who wanted to put a hit out on his wife because he didn’t want a divorce.