Page 9 of Live Love Steal (Destroyers MC: Skilletsville PA #2)

Whatever - Isobel

D rinking whiskey with a biker was not on my to-do list today. Bear slid onto the barstool with practiced ease. I had the choice of a modified motorcycle seat, a wooden stool that leaned to the left dangerously, or a saddle tacked onto what I could only assume was a piston of some sort.

I picked the motorcycle seat.

Bear glanced at it as I dragged it over to sit by him.

Not that I wanted to sit by him, but of all the men in the room currently giving me the third once-over, I felt safest on his left.

Heck , I’d be safer tucked under his arm. No one would fuck with me then. I glanced at the ceiling, where I assumed Sketch was. He’d walked straight for a door on the side of the room. I assumed it led upstairs.

Or maybe they had a basement dug under the place? I shuddered.

What if they tortured and killed people here?

Were there bodies buried under my feet?

Bear snapped his fingers, and one of the bikers slid behind the bar.

“ Smoke . You know what I like. Grab a glass for the lady, too.”

The biker, Smoke , pulled down a bottle filled with dark amber liquid.

I didn’t recognize the brand at all. But a quick scan of the shelves behind the bar told me these men didn’t drink the cheap stuff you found at dive bars.

There were only a few brands I did recognize, and none of them were less than ten dollars a shot.

Bear thumped the spare tumbler down in front of me. “ Here .” He poured the whiskey.

“ Stop .”

Bear ignored me.

I waited.

He filled it to about a finger, maybe half of one, from the rim. No ice, no water to cut it with, just straight whiskey. Almost six ounces of it.

The fumes made my eyes water.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I didn’t drink whiskey. But what then? Would they make me drink it anyway? Would I be given a choice?

I tried to play it cool. I picked the glass up, held it where I wouldn’t spill it, and pretended to admire the rich color. Once I got over the initial blast of it, I sniffed it because I caught notes of caramel, or was that vanilla?

Bear sipped from his glass like it was water.

There was no way I’d keep up with him. He had me by at least five inches and had arms thicker than a defensive lineman’s. “ You’re not driving later, are you?”

A huff escaped from him. Smoke watched us both carefully.

Bear took another sip and smacked his lips. “ Shut up and drink.”

I took a tentative sip, bracing for the fiery burn and the horrible churning of my stomach that would happen from pure whiskey dropping into it.

But instead, my mouth ignited with a rich, smoky heat. I let it roll around a bit, catching nuances of flavor I never knew whiskey had. Was that some sort of spice? I swallowed.

Then coughed, practically spilling the too-full glass. “ Holy shit.” I set the tumbler down.

My mouth, my stomach, my body warmed… wow-wowie-wow . I breathed out apple-tinged flame. Holy God in heaven. The flavor shifted once again. No wonder people drank this stuff. It was like a chameleon you could taste. One that would likely bite. Could you get drunk off one sip? “ What is that?”

This time, the huff was closer to a chuckle. Bear turned to look at me, a grin on his face. “ That , sweet lady, is single batch bourbon, aged at least seven years. Treat it like a woman, and give it the same respect due the Devil .”

I took another sip. This time I didn’t cough. And hell , it went down smooth. “ Where did you get this?”

“ Kentucky ,” Smoke commented, then slipped out from behind the bar and slapped Bear’s shoulder. “ Hammer gets off at ten, Skinner is manning cams, and Rocket is pulling the overnight.”

Bear nodded. “ If all goes well, Whoosh’ll be back before midnight. I’ll have him follow me home.”

Smoke eyed the glass in front of him. “ Need me to leave the bottle?”

“ Naw , take it. Just doing the one. And Sketch’s little lady here will probably pass out if she finishes that, so…”

I glared at him and took a larger sip just to prove him wrong. I would not pass out. It went down easy. And just like that, more than half the glass was gone. I stuck out my tongue at him.

Bear sighed, tapped the bar, and pointed at my glass. “ Top her off.”

Smoke filled it higher than Bear had.

Whatever .

I sipped the excess off so I wouldn’t make an ass out of myself by spilling what obviously was very expensive whiskey. Hopefully not too expensive. I’d probably puke it up later.

“ Since when did Sketch get a woman?” Smoke asked.

“ The way he tells it, about nine o’clock this morning.

“ Bullshit ,” I muttered into the glass.

“ What’s that?”

“ I said, bullshit.”

Neither of them believed me. “ It was almost eleven when I got out of the courtroom, and around noon when we found out my car was broken into.” I mulled that over.

It had to have taken at least thirty minutes to get my stuff unlocked from those stupid bags.

And tracking down someone to do it took another ten minutes…

“ Wait , your car was broken into?” Smoke asked.

I nodded and took another sip before explaining how we came out of the courthouse and saw the damage to my steering column and the back window.

Bear and Smoke exchanged glances that I didn’t particularly like, so I continued. “ Then , I followed Sketch to his house where he fixed it.”

Without asking me for money. Not even for the parts. And I was mad at him because? I couldn’t remember.

A woman slid onto the saddle seat next to me. “ What are you drinking?”

“ Whiskey . Wait , single-batch bourbon. From the Devil himself.” I got that wrong, so I ran that back through my head, but couldn’t think of a way it made sense otherwise.

“ Bear , are you getting her drunk?” Tits asked.

I think he was. I told the woman that. Then got a little hung up on the fact that she was fucking gorgeous.

Not someone I’d expect at a biker bar. She had platinum-blonde hair with an exceptional application of toning that somehow cut the brassiness to a pretty pillowcase white.

I had to use a blue-violet toner to get anything remotely close to that shade.

I sniffed the glass of whiskey. I’d heard of Beer Goggles before, but I didn’t know whiskey changed your entire sexual orientation.

It couldn’t. Could it? This was hair envy.

“ I’m Tits . What’s your name?”

I set the drink down and wiped my hands on my skirt. “ Isobel .” I held one out, waiting for her to shake.

Instead , she leaned to glare at Bear . “ What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I glanced behind me because if Bear was being a douchebag, I wanted to witness it myself.

“ I ain’t doing nothing. She’s Sketch’s .”

“ Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m not his . He doesn’t own me. I’m my own person. No one owns me.” There . Declaration done, I took a drink. Then it hit me. I was owned by that asshat of a boss who was going to fire me tomorrow over his ineptitude. And that pissed me right the fuck off.

I stared at the two fingers of whiskey left in my glass and debated quitting. “ I hate my boss,” I confessed to the glass.

“ Whoo -kay. My work’s done.” Bear slid off the stool, taking his glass and the bottle Smoke left on the bar with him.

“ Hey , come back here with that.” My glass was almost empty.

“ Coward !” Tits yelled at his back.

He stopped and glared over his shoulder. “ I know you didn’t mean that.”

Tits tipped her head, calculating. “ If you weren’t a coward, you’d ride my bike.”

His face changed to horror. “ The word you’re looking for is ‘fool’ as in, no one is dumb enough to ride that piece of shit you call a motorcycle.”

She stood up. “ Take that back.”

“ Why ? It’s true.” Laughter from his audience seemed to agree with him. Tits wasn’t having it, though. She marched over to start yelling at Bear .

I swiveled around to watch them argue it out.

This was fun. Why hadn’t I come here before?

The Destroyers ’ bar was nice, in a really run-down sort of way.

They obviously decorated with whatever they had on hand and didn’t bother trying to match anything.

Which meant it all gelled in an eclectic way.

The vibe was one part, ‘ I don’t give a fuck,’ mixed with one part, ‘ I’ll kick your ass. ’ My kind of place.

Smoke dropped a bottled water in front of me.

“ Thank you.” That was kind of him. I cracked the seal and let the coldness take the bite off the whiskey fumes dancing in my nose.

“ Sketch , huh?”

I ran my gaze up and down his shape from face to waist. He wasn’t a slouch, looks-wise, if you liked them big, dark, and hairy, but not Bear’s style of furry and hairy. Smoke was kind of …watchful. I didn’t like that at all. I preferred them wild, crazy… and quietly scary like…

Speak of the devil. Sketch emerged from that door he’d disappeared behind when we walked in. I smiled. I’d seen that man naked. And licked him while he was naked. I bit my lip and admired the way he walked. It was one part prowl and two parts stealth. Damn .

Then I noticed the man behind him.

“ Holy shit.” The words popped out of my mouth.

Smoke groaned. “ Aw , fuck. Don’t let Tits hear you say it like that. She’ll shiv ya.”

I whipped around to question him with my expression. He read my face easily.

“ Wolf is Tit’s husband. And she’s the jealous type.”

Oh . He’d just saved my bacon. Because it looked like she’d won the argument against Bear .

Which meant that of all the people in the room, she was the most dangerous.

Except maybe her husband. Wowza … I kept that thought to myself.

In my head, I tried to remember that I wasn’t attracted to the Viking type.

Long blond hair and big shoulders did nothing for me.

Nothing at all. But dang, he’d look hot carrying a sword.

“ Is that whiskey?” Sketch looked at the nearly empty glass in my hand.

“ Bourbon ,” I clarified. I deeply inhaled the complex aroma and swirled the alcohol in the glass to draw out some of the spicier notes.