Impossibly (Dante’s Nine MC #1)(43)
Author: Colleen Masters

“I’d love a Jack and coke,” I tell her, “Thanks, Dani.”

Shelly and the girls beckon Sam, Ollie, and Kip down to their end of the bar. And something tells me it’s not for the sake of small talk. It’s just me and Dani, as alone as we’ve ever been. I say a silent prayer that she’ll just hand me my drink and keep moving. The less time I can spend talking to Declan’s ex-girlfriends, the better.

“Here you go,” she says, handing me a stiff drink, “I’ll just put this on Dec’s tab.”

“Thank you,” I say, sounding way too formal for a biker bar, “Well, I’d better go keep Declan company over—”

“He’s got plenty of company,” Dani cuts me off, leaning against the bar. Her impressive cleavage is just about impossible to look away from. “Stay here with me.”

I train my eyes at the beautiful brunette, trying to figure out what her angle is. As much as I instinctively distrust men, I hold women to an even higher standard. But there’s no way I can gracefully extract myself from her company. I settle in for a tense conversation, taking a big old swig of my drink.

“How’s the website coming?” she asks, pouring a drink for herself, “You guys have been working on it for, what, almost two months now?”

“It’s really coming along,” I tell her, “A few more kinks to work out with the marketing copy, some issues with differentiating ourselves from other crowdfunding…I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear all about it.”

“I’d actually love to,” she insists, “I don’t get to talk about much but Harley’s and Budweiser around here. Not that I’m complaining, or anything. You’re just a really nice change of pace.”

“Oh. Well. Thanks,” I stammer.

Dani’s chocolate brown eyes twinkle with amusement as she watches me drink. “You don’t trust me for a second, do you?” she asks.

“What?” I reply, surprised, “I don’t—I never—”

“Relax,” she tells me, “I totally get it. I’ve got history with your man. You have every right to be wary of me.”

“Declan’s not my man,” I say quickly, “We’re just…We have a good time together, is all.”

“Yeah fucking right,” she laughs, “I see the way you look at him. You are in it deep, girl. You’re practically his old lady, it’s really not too hard to see that.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, shaking my head, “That’s not…good news.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” she goes on, leaning across the bar conspiratorially, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, too.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” I ask, curiosity successfully piqued.

“He cares about you, Kassie,” she says, “More than he’s ever cared about any woman. Including me. That’s not the look of a man who’s just having a good time. That’s the look of a man in love.”

“Bullshit,” I laugh, “That’s impossible. The whole love thing is out of the question for us. Trust me.”

“I trust that your head believes that,” she replies, “But you’ve both got your hearts shining on your sleeves. And they tell a very different story.”

“You’re crazy,” I tell her.

“And you’re in love with Declan Tiberi,” she shoots back. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

And locking eyes with her across the bar in that moment, I actually believe that it is. It’s pretty clear that she loved Declan once, maybe still does. But if what she’s saying is true, that he actually has feelings for me, I don’t much mind how many other women are after him. It doesn’t matter—none of them will have him the way I do.

“What are you ladies talking about?” I hear Declan say from behind me.

I feel his muscled arm settle across my shoulders as he joins me at the bar. Dani shoots me a knowing smile as she pours Declan his usual glass of bourbon. Maybe she and I will learn how to understand each other after all. Maybe.

“To an awesome summer so far,” Declan says, raising his glass to me.

“I’ll say,” I smile, clinking my whiskey glass to his.

“I’m glad you stumbled upon that Craigslist ad of mine,” Declan says, “You were just the girl I was hoping to snag.”

We drink in unison, the sweet cola and fiery whiskey dancing down my throat. I finally feel like I’m getting a new sense of what’s normal, after almost two months of living with Declan Tiberi. I wonder what it would be like if this wasn’t just a summer arrangement. What if this was just…my life? Looking around at Declan’s brothers, the feisty ladies of the Forty-Five Club, the dusty jukebox and the scraped-up pool table, I have to say that I wouldn’t mind if this place became my home, too.

Just as I’m about to turn back to Declan, the door swings open, and a glimmer of gold catches my eye. I stare as a vaguely familiar face appears in the doorway. It takes me a minute, but I recognize the slick gentleman that Declan and I ran into at the blackjack table a while back. Lorenzo, if memory serves. A sudden hush falls over the bar as the well-dressed man strides across the threshold. Declan turns to see what the fuss is about and freezes.

“Well, this place hasn’t changed a bit,” Lorenzo says, casting his eyes about the room.

“What’s your business here, Lorenzo?” Chuck snarls from behind the pool table.

“No business to attend to,” the smooth man replies, “Just visiting some old friends.”

“You’re in the wrong place to find friends,” John says coolly, his cut jaw tensing.

“John, I’m surprised at you,” Lorenzo replies, his taut face unmoved, “I always thought of you as a hospitable man. You seem to be souring in your old age.”

“State your business, or we’ll have these boys show you out,” John replies, beckoning Teddy and Frank toward him.

“I just need to have a word with this young man,” Lorenzo says, fixing his gaze on Declan, “Alone.”

Every eye in the bar snaps Declan’s way. His jaw clenches with tamped down rage and he pushes himself up off his barstool. Some line has been crossed, here. That much is pretty clear. The other men of Dante’s Nine seem stunned by Lorenzo’s visit, indignant even. But who’s to blame for this breach of conduct?