Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

&nbs

p; Kyle

I’m decently tipsy by the time others start trickling into the bar, and I wave to some that I recognize. Several people clap me on the back in greeting or in congratulations for getting our house back before settling in booths, at tables or somewhere along the bar.

Then an arm drapes over my shoulders.

“Did you put on more muscle?” a voice gasps in mock shock.

I roll my eyes and turn to face Ethan Martin. The man is loud and occasionally obnoxious, but he’s kind to everyone, and one of his favorite pastimes is talking about his daughter, Lily, who is adorable. Last night, he left earlier than I did, going home at around seven-thirty so he could see his daughter before she went to sleep.

He’s a good dad.

Though…

“Hey, Ethan,” I say. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“Georgia was annoyed with me coming home early yesterday,” Ethan says, rolling his eyes as he drops his arm. “She said she offered to babysit so I could have a real night out, not so I could hang for an hour and then come home. So she kicked me out of the house and told me to come back after a few hours.” He grins, mischievous. “I’m going to give it two.”

I chortle. Georgia Turner, Ethan’s feisty childhood friend, should really know him better than that. The man is an expert in finding loopholes just so he can piss people off.

“Anyway, enough about me,” Ethan says, his eyes gleaming in a way that makes me instantly wary. “Who’s the babe that Grant says you’re seeing?”

I shoot the bartender a betrayed look. He shrugs back with an innocent smile.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” I deny through gritted teeth. “It was a one-night thing.”

“That I would believe if you didn’t pick her up off the street,” Ethan says airily.

“Don’t say that; it makes her sound like a fucking hooker,” I protest.

“Oh, so she wasn’t?” Ethan asks, pretending to be surprised. “That means it was something special, right?”

Ethan and Grant are my best friends within the club. We met once we’d all joined, and they’re the two that I enjoy speaking to the most.

Right now, however, as I rub the bridge of my nose, I know I could cheerfully throttle them both.

As Ethan laughs, I cast my eyes around the bar. It’s fuller now, with more people coming in every now and then. As I glance at the door, it opens and a single man walks in.

He’s vaguely familiar, but it’s hard to tell why I recognize him. He isn’t in the club, and I haven’t seen him in the bar before. I contemplate him, wondering where I know him from.

“So, where’s the damsel in distress now?” Ethan asks.

I remember the way Allison had thrown herself at me and broke down all my protests, and snort.

“She’s no damsel in distress,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I assume she’s at home or out with friends. Who knows?”

“You mean you haven’t been obsessively texting her, telling her what a wonderful night you both had and how much you can’t wait to see her again?” Ethan gasps dramatically.

I huff and reach out to cuff him around the head. But several others are already sniggering at me, and I glare at them all until they look away, intimidated.

“Cut it out,” I snap. “First, it was one night, and it only happened because we were stupid. Second, I don’t even have her number, dick. Third, can you really see me doing something like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ethan says thoughtfully. “I can absolutely see you lying on your bed, waiting for the next text. “Darling Allison, the sight of your beautiful eyes-”

That was as far as he got before I calmly pick up my mug, which has only a few centimeters of drink left in it, and tip it over his head. Ethan stops, stunned.

Raucous laughter starts up at the sight and Grant sighs as he makes his way over, throwing a towel at Ethan’s face.