Page 3 of Clashing

Chapter two

Off-Limits

Ryker

N othing quite captured the homey experience of our regular bar like the smell of scotch, leather, and cigarettes.

Add to that the murmur of conversation mingled with classic rock that echoed off the wooden walls and floors, the place was a haven.

My crew and I settled into Danny’s after an extended ride along the coast. While the others planned to get someone on the back of their motorcycle and into their bed, I wanted a damn drink.

Danny didn’t bother asking my order. I’d been coming in since before he took the place over.

His father was a good man and kind to us.

Didn’t assume the worst when a motorcycle club walked in and took up more than half his bar.

The motorcycles, the leather, the tattoos—they unnerved the faint of heart. Danny and his father were anything but.

We visited regularly, but tonight, excitement hung in the air. Danny hadn’t stopped smiling. He often had a bit of sadness in him. Not tonight. Not even his usual grumpy scowl made an appearance, and I had a guess as to why.

“Your girl finally here?” I asked, sipping my favorite scotch as I adjusted on the oak barstool.

“Yes.” He grinned and wiped the bar top with a rag from his back pocket. “Made it in a couple nights ago.”

“Bet it’s nice to have her around.”

“It is. She’s been busy, though.” He retrieved my scotch and topped off my drink.

I tilted it toward him in thanks before taking another sip.

“She’s got an art show this weekend that’s taken up all her time.

That and settling in. But,” he inclined the glass he was polishing toward me, “she eats lunch with me every day.”

A smile fought its way to my lips. He’d been talking this girl up for weeks. He’d told me about both mother and daughter years ago, but he had a new kind of enthusiasm when the daughter decided to move here and take the room over the bar. Never seen him happier.

Dan didn’t talk much. More listened to everyone else.

Put a couple whiskeys in him, and it was a different story.

That’s when he told us about them. How they saved his life without knowing it.

Gave him something to live for. Apparently, his PTSD from serving got the better of him after he lost his whole world when his girls died.

He planned to end it with a gun. Then, a little girl wandered into his yard and picked his carefully gardened flowers.

Since I was also a few drinks deep when Danny got to the point of his storytelling, I couldn’t remember all the stories or the girls’ names. Just that they meant the world to him.

A thud from the stairs jerked Danny’s attention away. “You all right, Scar?” he called out. “Need help?”

“No, I don’t need help!” came the response. “I’m good.”

Damn. She had a sweet voice. Even yelling, it was sweet as sugar.

“She doesn’t want my help anymore,” Danny grumbled as he snatched another glass to polish. “Every time I offer, it’s no thank you, Dan. I can take care of myself .”

“Sounds like you helped raise her right.”

“I know.” Danny sighed and braced his knobby hands on the bar.

“But it’s nice to be needed, isn’t it? I almost miss the days she was a little girl, coming to me with every problem under the sun because she knew I’d take care of it for her.

Now, I hear about everything afterward.” He frowned.

“She’s not so little anymore, Ryker. She’s grown up a lot. What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Let her be. She still needs you. She’s here, isn’t she?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I suppose, but she didn’t call me when that bastard put her in the hospital.

You know what she did?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“She took self-defense classes, and the next time he tried to hit her, she hit him harder. I don’t know whether to be proud or pissed she didn’t let me take care of it. ”

“A little of both seems fair.” I remembered him telling me about that asshole. I offered to drive with him to handle it, but he refused. He wouldn’t admit that she took after him in not wanting anybody’s help.

A bell from the kitchen drew Danny’s focus. He tucked the rag in his back pocket and went through the double doors at the same time a girl descended the stairs, battling a box bigger than her.

No. Not a girl. A woman . Goddamn.

I had no plans to hook up, but my pants tightened at the sight of that ass. The jeans she wore weren’t too tight, but they were snug around her ass. Dark brown hair fell in loose curls down her spine, landing above the hem of her jeans, and fuck me . There I was again. Staring at that ass.

What the hell is wrong with you? I shook my head to clear my thoughts as she struggled with the box, ending up on the other side before I saw her face. I prayed she was ugly because God help me if that was Danny’s girl.

Fuck. It had to be. She came from the stairs leading to the room I’d helped Danny load a bunch of art boxes into over the last couple of weeks. Unless she had a friend, she was Danny’s.

The box shifted a few times, and a huff of frustration later, I spoke without thinking. “Do you need help with that?”

The temptress peeked around the box, and all hope of something being wrong with her went to shit. Her mouth opened like an invitation. Her gaze swept over me, and I took the opportunity to return the favor.

My gaze drifted as I took her in, and fuck , was there something to take in. Her tits were as generous as her ass, so much so her shirt stretched over them. A pinch in her waist and hips that flared out gave her that perfect hourglass figure. Curvy and fucking gorgeous.

Before drool slipped out of my mouth, I forced my eyes to find hers. She drew her lower lip between her teeth. I swept my tongue over my lip, imagining what hers would feel like.

“I’m good,” she squeaked. Her focus drifted over me once more, and by the time those big brown eyes found their way to mine, a blush dusted her cheeks. Good to know I wasn’t the only one affected.

“You sure?” I asked, eyeing her. She’d have to lift the package over the bar, and she didn’t have much height to her.

“Yeah, I got it.”

She ducked out of sight, and I leaned over the bar to watch her struggle. The cardboard rose, then dropped. Twice. Like Danny said, she didn’t want any help.

The package elevated again, clearing the bar, but not the register. I sighed when it lowered once more. The hell with it. The barstool scraped as I stood and sauntered over to her. I grabbed the box and hauled it above the bar and register, then set it down on the other side.

“Thanks,” she muttered. “I would’ve had it.”

I shrugged and eyed the hallway. That was most likely her destination unless she intended to carry this box through the entire bar. “Where’s it going?” I asked. My attention returned to her in time to find her biting that luscious lip again, and checking me out. For the second time.

If she was going to be blatant about it, I might as well too.

“Out back to my car. I can get it.”

“Are there more?”

“Yes.” She set her hands on her full hips, and I suppressed a groan. She was a looker. “Like I said, I can get them.”

“I know you can. I just don’t think you should have to do it all by yourself.” I slid the box toward the hallway. “Nothing wrong with accepting a little help, is there?”

No protest. Interesting. I expected one. Soon enough, she brushed past me, her arm grazing mine as she stalked ahead. My eyes shut briefly. That skin was soft . I bet she was soft all over.

“Fine, but be careful with it,” she clipped.

I bit back a smile. Feisty. Voluptuous. This girl was ticking all my boxes a little too well. I followed her into the alley lot, where she opened the back of Danny’s van. Yep. Definitely Dan’s girl. Dammit.

“It’s fragile.” Her hands hovered over the box.

“I can be gentle.”

She cleared her throat and stepped away. Another smile fought its way forward as I eased the cargo inside. She closed the van, and I trailed her inside, where she turned for the stairs.

She paused and pivoted on her heel, staring up at me even though she was on the first step. “You don’t have to help.”

I crossed my arms. “How many more?” A smirk spread over my face at her lack of answer.

Not because she didn’t speak but because of why she didn’t.

She wetted her lips and rubbed her thighs, taking her sweet ass time ogling me.

This girl was anything but as innocent as Danny claimed. “Well?” I pressed.

Her eyes widened as they flew to mine. Blush intensifying, she darted her eyes away as quickly as she’d made contact. “Um, well . . . four.”

Putting my fingers to my lips, I whistled for the guys and held up three fingers to let them know how many I needed. Three of my buddies approached. “Lead the way.”

I knew the way but didn’t want to freak the poor girl out. We hadn’t technically introduced ourselves yet. It was bad enough I couldn’t keep my eyes off her ass swaying as she ascended the stairs.

She let us into her place, and my boys grabbed the boxes, then went downstairs. I set my hand on the last box and glanced around the room to check for more. “That all, sugar?”

“Don’t call me that.” She leveled a glare at me. “I can’t stand pet names like that.”

I worked my jaw to withhold the smile. She was somehow sexier when annoyed. That’d be fun to play with. I stepped toward her and enjoyed the way she swallowed, unable to keep eye contact with me.

“No?” I paused inches away from her. “What should I call you, then?”

“Scarlett—Scarlett’s my name,” she stammered.

“ Scarlett ,” I drawled, testing the name on my lips. “Mmm,” I hummed. I could see myself saying that name while she was underneath me. “I like it.”

Scarlett blinked. Her pouty lips parted. What really did it was the way she slowly drew her legs together. Fuck me. I was about to say sayonara to self-control. With the last two working brain cells I had, I left her to process before I did something stupid.

Outside, the guys gave me questioning looks. I shrugged and said nothing. If they needed a reason, we helped because it was Danny’s girl. No other motivation.

Scarlett made it outside and offered shy smiles to the guys on her way to the van.

Once she opened it, we loaded the packages, and she thanked each of them.

I rested the last box inside and leaned against the brick alley wall, tugging on my lower lip when her shirt rode up as she stood on her toes to reach the trunk.

Shit. That skin was warm and sun-kissed. I wanted to see more of it. Touch it. Taste it.

“Thank you.” She faced me and wrung her hands together. “It was unnecessary, but thank you.”

I nodded and didn’t bother hiding my appraisal of her. She didn’t in the bar, and damn, there wasn’t a bad thing to look at. She shifted her weight and eyed me for a moment, then scurried inside. I chuckled and followed, half tempted to push her up against the wall to see how she’d react.

Good thing I didn’t because we rounded the corner and almost ran into Danny.

“You all right?” Danny pushed the back of his hand against her forehead like a nervous mother. “You look flushed.”

Her flushed expression has nothing to do with being sick. Your little girl is definitely not so little.

“No, no.” She batted at his hand with a nervous laugh. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I cleared my throat to stop the building snort and took my place at the bar.

“All right, honey,” he said, brows knit together. “Got all your things?”

She nodded. Then her eyes widened. “Shit. I forgot my suitcase. And my dress.”

Danny chuckled as she raced upstairs. Another bell dinged, and Dan ambled through the double doors to the kitchen. Scarlett returned with her suitcase and a dress thrown over her shoulder. She scanned the bar, and when those beautiful eyes landed on me, I couldn’t help myself.

I met her gaze and sipped my drink. “Thought you didn’t like pet names, Scarlett.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t.”

“Dan called you honey.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Her pink tongue darted out along her lip, and my pants tightened.

“It . . .” The words died when I finished my drink and licked the remains off my lips. She watched the movement. The energy crackling between us practically hummed. “It just is.”

“Hmm,” I grunted. Bullshit.

“How would you like it if I called you—” she gestured in a vague circle before her eyes lit up with a victory that wouldn’t last “Baby?”

Well, now she was baiting me. “I’d like that quite a bit, Scarlett.”

She was at risk of Danny checking her temperature again with how red she turned. The corner of my mouth pulled up in a smirk.

“You’re annoying . . .” Her tone implied she was about to full name me, but she didn’t know my first name yet. “What’s your name?”

Called it. I could be annoying. Especially if it was going to bring out her feisty side. “Ryker, sugar.” I winked. “The name’s Ryker.”

She scowled and crossed her arms. “I told you not to call me that.”

“I thought we agreed you’d call me baby, and I’d call you sugar?” I leaned on my forearms over the bar, so I could see more of her. “Or is it that you’d rather we call each other baby? I can work with that.”

She pressed her lips together. Her eyes narrowed in a challenge I was too willing to jump on.

Danny came through the doors. “Ready, honey?”

I hid my amusement behind my glass. One moment of a glower was all I got from her before she pecked Danny on the cheek. “Ready. I’ll see you in two days. Don’t work too hard.”

“You be safe driving all that way alone,” Danny said. “Call me when you get in.”

Everything about her softened, and I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of the smile she gave him. So warm it would’ve melted me. God fucking dammit, who am I right now?

“I promise.” She hugged Danny, then turned for the exit. “Bye.”

“Bye, honey.” Once she was out of sight, Danny sighed and turned to me. “Isn’t she a sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? Not the word I’d use. Thankfully, Danny moved on to other customers, chatting more animatedly than before his hug from Scarlett.

Dammit. Scarlett was off-limits. Danny would kill me. He liked me well enough, but I could only imagine what he’d think if I made a pass at his little sweetheart, and she took it. And she’d take it. I could see it in her eyes.

She’s forbidden fruit.

That made me want her even more.