Dreygon was convinced I’d hit the asshole because of the club. I let him think it. It could only help. The door opened and a group of bikers walked inside. Dreygon stood from the table to greet them. The oldest man, maybe just ten years younger than Dreygon, wore a president’s badge. There were two guys who looked about the same age as Jericho and one who looked to be in his early thirties. He was the one who eyed Angel as if she was a chocolate covered ice cream. I tensed. Angel took hold of my hand under the table. “Slow down there, killer. I think you’ve already proved yourself enough tonight. These guys are from a local club, The Cruisers.” Angel thought my show outside was part of the act too. “My grandfather wants the two clubs to merge to make it one strong outlaw club under the Bedlam name.”
Her grandfather’s plan was coming all too clear now. But none of it mattered because no one was getting near her, not even the son of the fucking MC president. Feeling ridiculously possessive, I took advantage of our seconds alone to drag my fingers up her thigh. Her long lashes fluttered seductively down over her teal blue eyes. She leaned over and kissed me and pushed my fingers up against her warm pussy. I stroked the silky fabric of her panties, and she moaned against my mouth.
Dreygon’s loud voice chilled the heat between us. “Hey, Reno,” he’d never used the nickname before. “Do you play pool?” he asked.
“I play.”
Dreygon laid a heavy hand on a shoulder of one of the younger guys. “This is Everett, and he needs someone to play against. Join him.” The man had a talent for morphing a friendly suggestion into a command with just a few words.
I looked over at Angel. She motioned toward the pool room. “You might as well go. Sitting this close to you is just going to be torture anyway.”
I leaned over and kissed her. “Just don’t start anything without me.” I grabbed a beer and slid from the booth, and suddenly it seemed that everyone was watching us.
Angel slid out behind me, seemingly unaware of the attention we’d drawn. “I’m going to buy a glass of wine. This beer tastes awful.” Before I walked out of reach, she took hold of my hand and hopped up on her tiptoes to kiss me. We were still the center of attention, but it didn’t matter. Standing in a crowd of people with Angel was no different than standing alone with her. She was the only person I saw, the only person that mattered. She smiled and wiped some of her lipstick off my bottom lip with her thumb. “I’ll come watch you play in a minute.”
The way my pool partner shuffled behind me toward the table made it was clear he hadn’t really wanted to play. Jericho had found a dark corner and a pretty cocktail waitress and had started his own private party at the back of the room. The wide, unobstructed passageway between the rooms gave me a clear view of the bar area. Angel was leaning over the counter ordering a glass of wine, and it seemed every male in the room, with the exception of her grandfather, watched her. Jealousy had been completely foreign to me. Now it ripped into me with a vengeance.
With little enthusiasm, my glum faced pool partner took the break shot.
“You didn’t really want to play, did you?” I asked.
“Haven’t even had a fucking beer yet, and they’ve pushed me over to the kid’s table.”
I laughed. “Then I guess I’m stuck at the kid’s table with you.” I looked back through to the bar. Angel turned around with her glass of wine, and the thirty-something guy moved right in on her. She glanced my direction as he spoke to her. He noticed her lack of attention and glanced my way. He stepped around to block my view of her. This night out was all part of Dreygon’s outdated idea on courtship. The old man was a master schemer, but he was pretty damn transparent with his plans.
I leaned over the table and took a shot. My concentration was fucked, and I’d be lucky to get any ball in a pocket. I looked at Everett. “What’s the name of your big friend with the long blond ponytail and beard?”
“Johnny?”
“Is he the dude talking to Angel at the bar?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s the president’s son. He’ll be taking over the club in a few years. His old man has lung cancer.” He leaned over and fired three solids into the pockets.
I peered through to the bar. More people had come inside. Dreygon sat in the booth deep in discussion with the club president. Occasionally, they’d glance in Angel’s direction. The asshole had brought her here tonight to meet the man she’d been promised to. It was an easy plan to follow. He promises his granddaughter’s hand in marriage and, in return, he gets the smaller club to join Bedlam. And he’d pushed me into the pool room to get me out of the way. The whole thing was so comically obvious, it was almost hard to believe that Dreygon had been the mastermind behind it.