Daring Daddy (Montana Daddies 5)

Reaper’s was owned by the Iron Shadows. The patch on their cut was a skull with flames. Parts of it in shadow, the mouth almost smiling.

Suddenly, she realized she was surrounded. She stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t just the chair. It was her. Unlike the majority of the women in the bar, her skin was mostly covered. She wore dark jeans and a bright pink tank top with a black blazer.

Yeah, she could have dressed to blend in better. But that wasn’t why she was here.

“You lost?” A tall, cut man stepped forward. Wide shoulders that pushed the limits of the black tee he was wearing. Denim jeans. Mid-thirties. Strawberry blond hair that together with his deeply tanned skin might have given him a surfer look, if you didn’t look into his eyes. Then you saw that he wasn’t a man who spent his days catching waves.

“I’m here looking for someone.”

She should have stayed at home. But she’d been itching to get out of the house and off the ranch even before she’d listened to that message. Charlie was having a sleep-over tonight. Jed and Kent were away on business so Abby and Daisy were staying the night at the big house.

She hadn’t been able to stay and listen to them having fun without feeling that pang of longing to join in. So, she’d told Clint she was off to stay the night at a friend’s. Luckily, she’d caught him when he’d been distracted by Charlie and he’d let her go without an interrogation. Her oldest brother could be a mite bit overprotective. Kent was easier to get around, but she didn’t live with Kent. Clint took his head of the family status pretty seriously.

If he knew where you are right now. . .

Yep, she’d be fucked. Totally and utterly.

Didn’t matter that she was in her mid-twenties and old enough to make her own decisions. That wasn’t the way her family worked. She was certain Clint would be attempting to boss her around until they were all old and gray.

He was just lucky she loved him or she might have smothered him with a pillow years ago.

She glanced around, trying not to display any unease. She knew she couldn’t show weakness. People like this only respected strength. She was under no illusions that these people were good, upstanding citizens.

She looked back up at surfer-biker with the truly glorious tattoos. Hmm, she wondered if she could sneak a tattoo somewhere on her body that her brothers wouldn’t see.

“You’re looking for someone here?” he asked incredulously. “There’s no one here for you, little girl, so best you run back to Daddy.”

“My father is dead.” She said the words with absolutely no inflection in her voice. No feeling.

Show. No. Weakness.

“Where’d you get the tattoos?” she asked him.

The guy blinked, obviously taken by surprise. Good.

He folded his arms across his chest, his muscles bunching. A face like a movie star and a body like a professional athlete, she bet he had women panting after him.

She felt nothing.

Maybe because your mind is filled with a scowling ex-SEAL who seems to think he gets to boss you around. Well, he used to. Now he was barely talking to her. She never thought she’d miss their arguments quite so much.

“You’re not here to talk about my tattoos.”

“No, I’m not. Pretty sure I already said why I was here. Have you always had short-term memory issues? Does it run in your family? I’m guessing you biker types aren’t big on going to the doctor. Or am I stereotyping? ‘Cause you know, as you get older lots of problems are going to come up. There’s no shame in asking for help when you need it.”

Okay, shut up now, Eden.

“Little girl—” he snarled, but was cut off as a woman strode up to him. Her long, blue-black hair caressed her waist. This woman was pure sex and sin. She was dressed in tight black jeans that fit like a second skin. Her white top was a size too small and you could see her red bra underneath.

She leaned against the biker-surfer dude and he wrapped his arm around her.

“You need to turn around and leave,” she told Eden in a voice that wasn’t unkind. “This isn’t the place for you.”

“Gladly,” Eden told her, glancing around. Everyone was still staring at her. She sighed. Fucking wonderful. Fucking Keira.

“Whoever you’re looking for, they’re not here,” the woman told her.

“Seems that way. Then again, she could be in the restroom.”