Claws & Crochet

Part 4

WARNER

Unfortunately, on my way to meet the mystery woman, the redhead named Missy acts as a roadblock, stepping into my path. I consider dodging around her, too. But I've never been the type to blow people off. She deserves respect, even if I don't want to date her.

Every woman is interesting in her own way, but none have ever knitted while they flirted. Maybe that's why my hook ups have dwindled over the past years.

"Hi, Warner, right? Courtney told me about you." Missy blinks at me, hopeful.

"Don't listen to anything she said. She's a notorious liar." I smile, so the girl knows I'm joking. And girl is the right word to describe her. This close, I'm able to see every detail of her sweet round face, and I'd put money down that she's only been able to legally get into a bar for a handful of months.

I might even guess younger, but everyone in this town knows it's a colossally bad idea to try a fake ID at The Rabbit Hole.

"Oh, I don't think so. I can already see she was telling the truth about some things." Her gaze trails up and down my body, and I try not to sigh in frustration.

Mystery woman sips her drink. Her glass is almost empty.

When she finishes, will she leave? When she leaves, will she disappear?

"Jim!" I reach out to grab the arm of the newest member of the club. He's a nice guy. Nervous, but nice. His eyes immediately land on Missy's low neckline, but then quickly jump up to her face.

"Jim, this is Missy. Missy, this is Jim. Did you know that Jim got into a fight with a bear?"

I'm not even lying. It's a badass story.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows curve up. "Really?"

Jim reaches back to scratch his neck, self-conscious, but he grins at the girl. "Yeah . . ."

"I'll let you tell it." I give him an encouraging push, relieving myself of any guilt about abandoning the guerrilla warfare dating set up.

The Rabbit Hole has never seemed so crowded before. It's like every member in the club wants to call out my name or stand in my path.

By time I reach the bar, it's all I can do not to collapse into the stool beside mystery woman. Pulling myself together, I sit down and lean my elbows on the bar. Like I'm more interested in getting Moose's attention than catching her eye.

My act crumbles the second she turns her head to look at me. I'm not about to play hard to get when all I want is to hear her voice.

Will it sound as good as she smells?

She's fucking intoxicating. And she's also silent, which means my mouth takes the lead.

"You looking to join the club? Because I gotta tell you, it's a rigorous initiation process, and I'm not convinced you're up for it."

Her maple brown eyes widen as she stares at me.

"Which club?"

"The Dark Moon Riders." I turn my back to her briefly, showing off the patch on my vest, then lean in close, doing my best to be subtle about the fact that I'm breathing in more of her scent. This close I could easily drown in it and die happy. "You're in our bar, you know?"

Some other guys here would add an edge to their voice. A warning.

But I keep my words light. She's the last person I want to scare.

And why is that?

She glances behind me at the group that's getting rowdier with every pitcher of beer, then scans the entire bar. There's only a shadow of curiosity on her face. Not a single bit of fear.