With narrowing eyes and not a syllable uttered, the bartender placed the dirty tumbler down and went straight for the bottom-shelf shit. For the garnish, she made a big show of spitting in the drink before sliding it my way.
“What the hell is this?” I snarled.
The redhead flattened her palms on the bar, leaning forward to grin wickedly: “We don’t serve your kind here.” To punctuate the point, she jabbed a thumb towards the window, and the parked Crown Vic outside.
I rose from my chair, preparing to retort, when a smooth voice called out from behind: “…Elmira. That’s no way to treat our guest, is it?”
The bartender froze again, glancing over my shoulder. Similarly, I stiffened up, locking onto the redhead’s eyes as she glanced my way with a mixture of equal parts confusion and irritation.
I knew that voice.
That was the voice that had haunted my dreams for eight years…
“Give her the Van Wrinkle and the Green Spot this time, Elmira. Use one of the clean glasses… and try to not spit in it.”
“Jack Daniels is fine,” I retorted, unwilling to take my eyes off of her own. The last time I’d seen this man I’d frozen in panic… Now that we were finally in the same room again, it was the same old song and dance…
“Jack in a whiskey sour? You always liked it a little rough, didn’t you?” I felt his breath near my ear, and a shiver slipped down my spine.
“Some things never change,” I murmured.
“True…” he chuckled, placing a strong, steady hand on my hip. God, I missed that. “But some things change for the better…”
Hunter spun me around in the stool, forcing me to face him. His piercing blue eyes drilled straight into my soul.
He was right – he had changed for the better.
Hunter was built even bigger now, his refined, sculpted physique imposing above me. Another inch of height added to his impressive frame, and broad, powerful shoulders filled my vision, sucking the breath straight from my lungs.
The ripped, worn shirt exposed his tremendous biceps, including the dragon tattoo that snaked authoritatively down one arm.
His expression was harder as well. A short layer of stubble cast a shadow across the hard edges of his chiseled face, and a thin scar glided from his temple down across his cheek.
For a fraction of a moment, I nearly caress the scar out of some place of loving concern… but I pause my hand halfway towards his face.
“That’s a story for another time,” Hunter laughed, knowing me so well even after all these years.
My face flushes red, and I feel heat rising from my core. Embarrassed, and all too eager to hide my developing arousal, I cast my eyes down to his chest. They land on the emblazoned patch above his heart, threaded into the leather – the emblem of the Devil’s Dragons MC.
But there was something else here. A single word that changed everything… President.
I’m in deep shit…
Elmira slid the drink my way. Hunter and I had been so focused on each other that, for all we know, she could have pissed all over that drink right in front of us and I wouldn’t have known it.
“Hello, Hunter,” I murmured softly.
“Hello, Sarah,” he replied with a smile.
In that second, I sensed a change in the atmosphere of the entire bar. With the exception of the bartender, the entire crowd visibly relaxed.
Did… did they know about me?
“Can’t help but notice that you’ve joined the force, just like Daddy,” Hunter tilted his head lightly. “That might just be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. From bad girl to good girl… Tell me, Officer… how can I be of some service?”
“Not officer,” I replied. “Detective.”
“Detective?” His eyebrows rose, and a soft smile slid across his face again. “Well now… you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I try,” I grinned back.
Hunter lifted his chin, his eyes still locked onto mine. His voice rose to fill the room: “Ladies and gentlemen of the Devil’s Dragons, I would like to introduce a dear, old friend of mine… Detective Sarah Buchanan.”
Murmurs drifted among the crowd. It was clear to me that most of them had heard my name before, and that made things rather interesting. Apparently, Hunter hadn’t quite gotten over me either…
“Sarah here is a welcomed guest of the club,” Hunter continued. “Any preconceived notions of a detective among us come to a stop now. Am I perfectly clear?”
Glasses raised everywhere. Even Elmira begrudgingly lifted a beer, her eyes still shooting daggers my way.
“Perfect. Now then, I believe my associate and I have some… catching up to do. If you’ll excuse us.” He turned to Elmira quickly. “Oh, and to celebrate… I’m buying the full house a drink. The next round’s on me.”