Page 4 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

“A-Arianna” the truth slipped out before I could call it back.

Shit. I’d told him my real name and not the one I was going by here.

The fake documents in my bag said my name was Anna.

Apparently, the closer to the truth a lie was, the easier it was to remember.

Unsurprisingly, I’d already messed up. I wasn’t cut out for a life of subterfuge.

“Arianna. Ari .” His gaze was still on my lips. Then he brought his hands up to cup my face.

My heart felt like it might punch out of my rib cage. This was really happening. He was going to kiss me.

“You need ice on that.” His low murmur took a few seconds to break through the fever in my head.

Wait, what?

“Sorry?” I asked, breathless.

“Your lip is swelling.” His blunt-tipped finger slid gently along my mouth, and a sharp sting broke the spell.

“Ouch!”

“Here, put some antiseptic on it.” He put some on his finger and brought it up to my mouth.

“I can do it,” I protested mildly.

He rubbed the cream in. I couldn’t lie, any touch of his felt wickedly good.

“There, good as new,” he said and gave me a crooked smile.

My heart skipped, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. The very last thing I needed was a one-sided crush on a hot local bartender/biker. I was meant to be staying out of trouble, not attracting more.

“Thanks.”

Marcus’ hand was still cupping my face, his thumb curled under my chin. He stroked a finger down my cheek then dropped his hand.

“I should let you get back to work,” I said quickly.

He nodded. I stood and packed the supplies into the box and tidied up. Minutes later, I was following him back to the bar.

It seemed like business as usual. Someone had swept up the glass and righted the stools. I sat down again in my spot. Marcus grabbed my unattended mocktail before I could drink any more and dashed it down the sink.

“I’ll make you a new one,” he muttered and moved along the bar to serve someone else.

I watched the last period of the hockey match, cheering discreetly for the away team, the very one my grandpa had always supported.

They won, and I couldn’t help but grin and clap.

It felt like a sign from my dearly departed grandpa that his team should win tonight, and I’d see it here, while spending one of my first nights in the new small town I’d chosen to settle in.

The town I’d chosen to start over in. My new beginning.

“That your team?” Marcus asked from behind the bar.

I turned to him, grinning.

“Sure is.” Cheering had made me even hotter, and the air felt stifling.

There was nothing I could do but lose my jacket.

I’d kept it on because I had nothing bar-worthy to wear.

As my money had dwindled, I’d picked up a few things at Goodwill to keep me interview appropriate, but as far as casual clothes went, the ones I’d stuffed into a bag a few weeks ago had grown a little snug.

Eating at gas stations and from motel vending machines hadn’t done my waistline any favors.

I was painfully conscious of how my plain black cotton cami clung to my top half when I took off the jacket. I pulled uncomfortably at the material, trying to gain a precious few inches at the top of it, but there was nothing extra.

With a self-conscious sigh, I dropped my hands and took a sip from the new drink that Marcus had set in front of me.

I blinked at him. “This isn’t a mocktail.”

“Nope. I’ve decided to believe that you’re over twenty-one so I can get you drunk.”

“What if I’m driving myself home?” I remembered his other assumption.

He shrugged. “Now, I guess you can’t. You’re stuck here. With me.”

Before I could pick apart that odd statement, Marcus’ dark eyes turned to someone ambling toward us along the bar.

“Hello there, pretty lady. Not from around here, are you?” a gruff voice asked.

I nearly screamed in surprise when I turned to see a grizzled old biker, beard more white than gray, propped up next to me at the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink, lovie?”

I opened my mouth, not sure how to turn him down without offending him.

“She’s got one, Ray,” Marcus interjected, his tone cool.

Ray nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, okay, but she might want another one.”

“She doesn’t. She’s good with what she has.” Marcus’ face had lost its teasing look.

Ray nodded and sighed, pushing off the bar and strolling away.

“Wow, do you always speak for a woman, or am I just lucky?” I turned back to Marcus.

He raised a dark eyebrow.

“My mistake. I thought you wouldn’t want to be hit on. I can ask Ray back if you want.”

“No!” I said so quickly Marcus chuckled.

“No, thank you, I’m good,” I added smoothly and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Don’t worry about Ray. A woman like you walks into a bar like this, he can’t help himself. He’s got to shoot his shot. Get used to being firm when you let ‘em down,” Marcus said conversationally. “Unless you want to go home with a bunch of biker boyfriends.”

“Right, I think I’m pretty safe.” I waved a hand around behind me.

“Have you seen some of the girls in here tonight? Besides, I haven’t had a boyfriend or been on a date in years, man…

” I realized it was true. I gazed at a random spot over the bar and mentally ran through my sparse dating history.

Yep. My love life had died when I’d finished my studies, since I was no longer out of the house for long stretches of the day, able to see people and do things.

“Wow, I didn’t realize it had been that long,” I mused and stared back at Marcus.

He was eyeing me with an inscrutable expression.

Great overshare, well-done, Arianna.

What the hell was wrong with me? Was I determined to make a fool of myself in front of this hot stranger?

There had to be a reason why pouring your heart out to a barman was a cliché.

There was something so natural and easy about talking to Marcus, and I’d been lonely for so long, without even a friend to call.

“I just mean—I’m pretty safe from male attention in a place like this,” I clarified and only made myself sound more pathetic.

Damn it.

I took a long slug of my drink, letting it soothe the embarrassment. I was twenty-five, as of today, for God’s sake; I really shouldn’t be blushing like a schoolgirl.

Marcus shrugged, crossing his arms over his impressive chest.

“You really don’t see yourself well, do you?” His gaze strayed over me, dragging up from my waist and back to my face.

I blushed, this time not from embarrassment. Heat flooded me.

“Every single guy in here watched you leave the back room with me, wondering…”

“Wondering what?” I asked, my cheeks heating more at the glint in his eyes.

“Wondering if we already fucked back there, and if so, if it’s too late to hit on you.”

I nearly choked on my drink. “That’s insane.” I coughed to clear my throat.

“Is it?” Marcus said. “Regardless, that’s what they’re trying to guess, and they’re watching you right now.”

“Well, that’s kind of creepy,” I quipped softly in my hope to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

He smirked.

“You know what they say, one man’s devotion is another woman’s restraining order.”

“Who the hell says that?”

Marcus shrugged again and held my gaze. “I do.” His tone was teasing, but there was something in it that sounded honest.

Beside me, a waitress appeared, sliding a plate in front of me.

I blinked away from Marcus to see what she’d brought me. A slice of apple pie.

Marcus nodded to the waitress and stepped forward. He fished around behind the bar and produced a candle. He stuck it into the flaky pastry and pulled a lighter from the back pocket of his jeans. He looked deep into my eyes and flicked it.

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he intoned and lit the single candle.

I stared at it. It was the first birthday candle I’d seen burning for me in at least five years.

He pushed the plate toward me. “Make a wish.”

Those sudden, hot tears that always seemed close to the surface threatened to spill over.

This simple act of kindness—ordering a dessert for the lonely girl who had nowhere to go on her birthday but a highway biker bar alone—was nearly enough to break me into pieces.

I dashed the unwanted tears from my eyes, Marcus watching every movement, his expression curious.

I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and leaned in to blow out the flickering flame. Putting my wish out in the universe, hoping against hope that this time, my luck would change.

Let this be the place. Let me find a home.