She snorts a laugh. “You don’t?”
I ignore her, even though I know it won’t make a difference. When Sylvie gets on a topic, she doesn’t let up until she feels the conversation has run its course.
“Two weeks ago, you couldn’t shut up about how annoying Legend is.”
“Ethan,” I correct because even in my head I can’t seem to call him by his club name.
“Ethan Packwood. You can call me Legend. Ask me why.”
His words to me in my office the second time I laid eyes on the man run through my head. Sylvie laughs at the disgusted look on my face, but I know my distaste won’t keep her from speaking.
“I said he was annoying, and I meant it,” I remind her. “Plus, I was buzzed, and I told you not to pay attention to me when I’m buzzed.”
“Drunken words are sober thoughts, Faith. You want his dick.”
I scoff. “No. I promise you that I don’t.”
“Then why are we at Jake’s?” She holds her finger up, preventing me from answering. “All the women in town know that this is where the guys hang out. You’re hoping to run into him.”
“Jake’s is the only place in town to come.”
“This is not the only bar in Farmington, Faith.”
“It’s the only bar you don’t need a tetanus shot before entering,” I argue.
Okay, so there are other bars in town, and maybe she is a little right about wanting to see Ethan “Call Me Legend” Packwood.
Pack. Wood. I shake my head. Even his damn last name is cocky. I smile at thoughts of him being a shrimp dick and having to live with a hyped-up last name. To be a fly on the wall when he has to explain that to dissatisfied women.
My face falls, a scowl replacing the quick smile at the thought of him with other women.
“You’re thinking about him right now,” Sylvie teases.
“I’m thinking about a case at work,” I lie.
She snorts, an unladylike sound, as she takes another sip of her drink. “Unlikely. We’ve been coming here weekly, and I know it’s because you want to run into him again.”
I shake my head, refusing to give her a response, but my friend has my number. I do want to see him, but it’s not for the reason she thinks.
Last month, after three too many drinks that Sylvie kept having Drake pour for us, Ethan approached. He flirted and winked, just like he had the first two times I ran into him. Any other day I could’ve handled myself better, but I’d just wrapped up a family custody case where the father used charm and his good looks in an attempt to keep a decent mother from having joint custody of her kids. The fact that anyone exists that would use their children as bartering chips makes me sick.
Ethan just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, flirting with the wrong damn woman.
I apologized because the next day I genuinely felt terrible for how I acted. Additionally, I didn’t want Diego “Kincaid” Anderson, the president of the Cerberus MC, to get wind of just how unprofessional I’d acted in public. I’ve worked several cases with the club, and it’s always been a pleasurable experience. Working with men and women with integrity comes less often than it should, and I didn’t want to risk losing that business.
“What’s going on in your head right now? Thoughts of Legend naked? Even after what happened last time, I have no doubt that the man would rock your world. All you’d have to do is ask.”
“I hate extremely forward men,” I remind her.
“Don’t start with that need for small talk and getting to know someone, Faith. Sometimes you just need to get off.”
I turn to her. “You’re absolutely right, but there are toys in my bedside table for such instances. With those, I don’t have to worry about my reputation or the fallout from hooking up with a guy from the bar only to discover in the grocery store a week later that he has a wife and three kids.”
Her face turns sour. “He lied to me.”
“I know.” It was a low blow bringing up the encounter she had last year, but I’ve told her more than once that I don’t want to speak about Ethan Packwood. “I’m just saying I don’t want to risk it.”
“The married and taken Cerberus men don’t screw around.”
“I’m well aware of their loyalty and integrity,” I mutter, seconds away from asking Drake for a double shot of whiskey to catch up with my best friend.
“Don’t forget their skills in the bedroom.” She winks at me when I sigh.
“That too,” I agree, because honestly, you can have a conversation with any woman in this bar, and they would’ve heard just how talented the leather-cut-wearing men in the club are. “But I’m not—”