Page 3
Story: Spade (Road Reapers MC #3)
S pade walked into the Road Reapers, feeling like a complete jerk for the way that he acted around Cynthia. He had over a week to replay their entire conversation over and over, and the more that he did that, the worse he felt. He let his temper get the best of him when she flat-out turned down his dinner offer. She didn’t even consider his proposal—just told him no, and that plain pissed him off. There was no way that he’d be able to show his face around Ink’s shop again—at least not when Cynthia was there.
He sat down at the bar and nodded to his club’s Prez, Mace. “You look like shit,” Mace said. “When was the last time you slept?” Honestly, he couldn’t remember how many hours it had been since he slept more than twenty minutes. Work was kicking his ass, and until the case he was working on was closed, he was going to have to forgo sleep.
“No clue,” he grumbled. “I had a day off about a week ago, and tried to get my sleeve worked on,” he mumbled.
“Tried to,” Mace said, “couldn't Ink fit you in?” he asked.
“He fit me in, but then, I asked to see his co-worker, Cynthia. “Mace laughed and shot him a look. “You know her?” he asked.
“Actually, she did some work for me a few weeks back. She seems nice,” Mace insisted.
“Sure, unless you ask her out,” grumbled.
Mace laughed again and slapped on the shoulder. “I’m pretty sure that Brooke would have a problem with me asking Cynthia out, man. My wife is pretty possessive.”
“Well, I made the mistake of asking her out, and she flat-out told me no. She didn’t hesitate at all, and there was no thinking about it—just no.” downed half his beer and sat back on the barstool.
“Did she give you any reason as to why she won’t go out with you?” Mace asked.
“Yeah, she said that she doesn’t date clients, so I got up out of her chair, and told her that I’d be using Ink from down on, not that I plan on going back to his shop any time soon. I just can’t face her again, you know?”
Mace shook his head, “You obviously like the woman, so why not ask her out again? It’s not like you to just give up, .” His Prez was right. He never gave up on something that he wanted without a fight, and Cynthia was something or in this case, someone who he wanted.
“I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll ask again next time I see her,” he said. He wasn’t sure that he was being completely honest with his Prez or himself, but he’d at least think about it.
“I believe that you’re going to get your chance sooner than later,” Mace whispered, nodding to the back door. “She just walked in.” turned to find Cynthia standing at the back entrance wearing dark jeans and a black tank top, and damn if she didn’t look good. His fucking heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, and he knew that talking to Cynthia now would be a mistake. He’d start speaking to her and never stop, and that seemed to be a giant turn-off to her last week. But he was being honest with her when he told her that she made him nervous—she did and now was no exception.
She spotted him and started walking across the barroom. “Shit,” he breathed.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Mace said, walking down to the other end of the bar. His Prez was an asshole for leaving him on his own, but there was nothing that he could do now but actually talk to Cynthia and hopefully, not get diarrhea of the mouth this time.
“Hey,” he said as she sat down on the barstool next to him. He wasn’t sure if he should ask her how she had been or just sit there and drink his beer. To say that he felt awkward was an understatement, and from the look on her face, she felt the same way.
“Oh, hi,” she said, smiling over at him. “Did you ever get another appointment with Ink to finish your tat?” She was making small talk, and for that, he was grateful.
“Um, no,” he said. “I’ve been tied up at work this week.” That part was easy because it was the truth.
“What do you do?” she asked.
“I’m an undercover cop,” he said. “I have to work a few towns over to protect my identity, so the hours are pretty long with the commute, but I love what I do, so there’s that.” Judging from the way Cynthia looked around the bar, he was starting to talk too much again. She looked as though she was searching for someone, and before he could stop himself, the words were already out of his mouth. “Are you here with someone?” he asked. She had every right to tell him that it was none of his business if she was there with anyone. Hell, if the answer was yes, he didn’t want to know, but he asked.
“Yeah, my boyfriend is supposed to meet me here tonight. He must be running late,” she said, flashing her smile at him again. felt sick to his stomach, and it was all his doing. He was the idiot who pried and now, he’d have to deal with the fact that the first woman he had wanted in a damn long time was already taken.
“So, the other day, when I asked you out, you told me no because you are seeing someone?” he asked.
“Yes, and no,” she admitted. “I told you that I don’t date clients, and that was the truth. But yeah, I would have turned you down either way because I’ve been seeing my guy for a few months now.”
“Your guy,” he repeated. “Is he a member of the Road Reapers?” he asked. If he knew Cynthia’s “Guy” he wondered if that would make him feel better or worse. Probably worse, if he was being honest with himself.
“Oh, no,” Cynthia said, “he was just going to meet me here for a drink. I like to come here after work sometimes to unwind and well, this place is on his way home from his job.” He started wondering if his verbal diarrhea was rubbing off on Cynthia because she was nervously going on about her boyfriend who was apparently standing her up.
“Can I buy you a beer while you wait for him to get here?” asked.
“Um, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she almost whispered.
“Why not?” he asked. “We’re just two friends having a beer together, right? I mean, I’d like for us to be friends and forget about embarrassing myself by asking you out. Consider it a peace offering,” he said. “I overstepped last week at your place of work, and now, I’m officially apologizing.”
“Honestly, you have nothing to apologize for, . You did nothing wrong. You didn’t know that I have a boyfriend, right?” He shook his head. He had no idea that she was seeing anyone. When he asked Ink to introduce them, his friend didn’t mention that she was seeing someone already. And why was that? The next time he saw Ink; he was going to have to thank his friend for nothing.
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “You would think that Ink would have told me when I asked him to introduce us,” he mumbled.
“Oh, he really doesn’t get involved in my romantic life. In fact, I’d be shocked if he told anyone about my boyfriend,” Cynthia insisted.
“You guys seem so close,” said, “almost like brother and sister. I just thought that he’d give me a heads up, so I didn’t make a fool out of myself,” he said.
“Don’t blame Ink,” Cynthia insisted. “I asked him to keep my private life private, and I guess not telling you was his way of doing just that.” Cynthia seemed to have an answer or excuse for every question and comment that made and that only made him suspicious. He had no real reason to be. Maybe he was feeling that way because he wanted to hold out hope that he still had a shot with her, but he knew that he didn’t. He’d have to find a way to accept that and sitting at the bar, talking to Cynthia, wasn’t going to help things.
He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and pretended to look over the blank screen. It was his go-to-move when he needed to get out of something that made him uncomfortable. And talking to Cynthia about her boyfriend made him very uncomfortable. “Listen, I’m going to have to take a rain check on that apology beer,” he said. “I just got a text from my boss that I need to head into the office. Sorry,” he lied.
“Oh, that’s no problem,” Cynthia insisted. “Have a good night, and be safe ,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. Just that simple touch had him wanting to stutter his way through the rest of the conversation, but he didn’t. simply nodded and tossed down a twenty for his beer. He didn’t bother to turn back on his way out of the bar for fear that Cynthia wouldn’t be watching him leave. He had already had enough disappointment for one evening.