Page 10

Dagger

W hy the fuck did I choose this place? Beans and Biscuits had damn good coffee, but everything aside from the coffee was so fucking fake, all the way down to the fake brick that adorned three of the four walls.

The chairs were the color of Easter baskets, and all the coffees came with ridiculous names like Faraway Frappe and Cloudy with a Chance of Cappuccino.

I never came here to sit and linger. I got my cup and got the fuck out before the hipster stink could rub off on me, but now here I was standing in line beside a stunning brunette with a pair of big hazel eyes that watched me a little too closely, her full lips curled up in what looked like it was trying to be a smile. But she was holding it back.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I grunted as we stood in line behind a dude with a man bun and a girl in a granny sweater. It was ridiculous, but this was where I stopped, so I needed to suck it up and deal with it. “You know what you want?” I asked when we got to the counter.

“Double espresso, please.” She grinned at the young barista.

“Large black,” I ordered in a firm tone while I grabbed a handful of sugar packets.

“Want some coffee with that sugar?” Sinclair asked, amused as hell, making a big show of grabbing one skinny ass packet of brown sugar for her fancy shot of caffeine.

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

She laughed again, a little louder, and the sound carried, drawing a few stares from other customers.

“Anytime.” She found a table on the interior wall of the shop, which made me wonder if she knew she was being watched, but before I could ask, she took the sea green chair, leaving the turquoise one for me.

“So, Dagger, what do you want to talk about?”

I watched her for a long moment as those wide, guileless eyes held mine. “What if that was just a ploy?”

“Well, you’re not hitting on me, and you haven’t given off those vibes, so I’d assume you’ve pre-dug a grave for me.”

My brows dipped. “That was dark.”

“Thanks.” She flashed a wide grin and then closed her eyes and took a long sip from her tiny cup. “Damn, that’s incredible.”

I was too stuck on the fact that I wasn’t giving off those vibes to appreciate the low moan that escaped her lips, but I quickly took notice. “What kind of vibes am I giving?”

That made Sinclair pause. “Mostly annoyed,” she answered honestly. “But you’re not hitting on me, so why does it matter?”

I shook my head. “You seem awfully sure of that.”

“It’s been a while, but I remember what it’s like when a man is hitting on me or wants to hit on me.” She didn’t seem embarrassed by that fact either, just resigned to it. Maybe even relieved.

“Maybe gruff asshole is how I hit on women.” The answer came quickly, surprising both of us.

Sinclair gifted me with a laugh, the sound soft and sexy, almost lyrical. “I’ll bet with that face you could get away with it, but that’s not what you’re doing.”

“You said it’s been a while since someone’s hit on you. Define a while.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat behind it, and her lips curled up in amusement. “More than a year,” she answered, her gaze unwavering as she waited for my response.

“Bullshit,” I shot back. “Maybe that was the last time you noticed someone was hitting on you, but it definitely wasn’t that long ago.”

Her face turned bright pink. “Agree to disagree, then.” She took another sip of espresso, but she watched me until I began to talk.

“You haven’t been in town long, but I’m sure you’ve heard about the Steel Demons?”

She nodded.

“I’m a patched member,” I explained. “I was always headed down this route. It was either military or MC, and you know which one I chose.” It wasn’t like I was looking for an MC, but I left home at eighteen and a few months later I was a prospect with the Steel Demons.

“MC, is that like a biker gang?”

I offered a half smile. “It’s a common misperception, but we’re a club not a gang.

We own businesses, including the tattoo parlor which I run, a gun range, an auto repair shop, night clubs, and even a few weed shops.

” I kept quiet about the other slightly less legal stuff that we did, which was on a strictly need-to-know basis.

“My dad owed a biker gang once,” she mused out loud. “There was nothing legitimate about them, at least I don’t think so.”

That was another piece of information about her life that I tucked away to examine later. “You have an opinion about it?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, motorcycles are dangerous. They call them donor cycles, you know?”

I laughed. “That’s not what I meant, but okay. There’s a reason I’m telling you this, Sinclair.”

Her expression sobered and she gave a short nod. “Okay.”

“I’m not a bad father. I love Dani very much.” I hated explaining myself, but this was important.

“It’s obvious that you love her,” she said in a quiet voice.

Her words surprised me, but I pushed forward. “I grew up in a household with a father who taught me to believe that love was a weakness and that it could and would be used against you.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes. “So you’re distant from Dani to keep both of you safe?”

It was gratifying to have someone understand so completely, which was also a little terrifying.

“Yeah. Especially after what happened with her mom. But now I see that’s caused some long-lasting problems that I’m not sure I can fix, but I have to try.

I hate the way Dani looks at me, always so wary of me.

Not fear, but just like she never knows what to expect.

” I didn’t do vulnerability—it was the quickest route to an early grave.

But I had to do this for Dani. For both of us.

“You want to show her that you’re more than her protector?”

“Yeah, exactly that. And I need your help.” I hadn’t asked anyone outside of my MC for help in a long damn time. I held my breath and waited for an answer, watching every flicker of emotion as it crossed her face.