Bad Boys of Romance:a Biker Anthology(2)

By: Kasey Millstead



This is our story of a true love that was worth fighting for.





JENN


The last few weeks have been hectic for me. I’ve not long started working at Joe’s Bar in Salt Rock, Alabama, as a PR manager. Currently, I’m heading up a major fundraiser and it’s taking up the majority of my time.



Despite its name sounding more like a dive, Joe’s Bar is actually the nicest establishment in Salt Rock. It’s clean, sophisticated and upper-class, all while being hip and attractive to all ages. Every second Friday night, we have a blue light disco in one of the function rooms for the kids in town. There’s a cocktail bar, a DJ who plays Thursday through Sunday and we have live entertainment every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night in the main dance hall. There’s a family friendly restaurant on site and we often host a range of functions here including wedding receptions, birthday parties and funeral wakes. It’s a great place to work.

I come out of my office to grab a drink before getting sucked back into planning the silent auction part of the fundraiser. I have a three o’clock meeting with one of our major donators and I know I won’t get a break for the rest of the afternoon.

As I walk down the hallway from my office, I mentally go over all the things I need to do before my workday finishes. My head is down and that’s why I don’t see him. I almost, almost, walk right into him. I pull up short, though, my stilettos slide on the polished floors. My arms go flailing as I try to keep my balance and stay upright. He reaches out and grabs a hold of my hips with his steady hands, holding me still. Immediately, I notice the way my hips begin to burn where he is touching me. I look up into his eyes and I want to melt.

He’s gorgeous. Tall, dark and handsome in a scruffy, unkempt kind of way. He has the bad boy look going on and I can just imagine my mother harping in my ear about the difference between bad boys and good boys. Good boys are reliable, steady and accountable. Bad boys are not. Blah, blah, blah.

And, just as quickly as I’ve almost fallen for him, literally, my eyes catch sight of the thin, gold band sitting snugly on the third finger of his left hand and I right myself, using his chest as leverage to push myself away from him.

He is taken.

The married kind of taken.

Off limits.

For a moment, I wonder why his wife didn’t buy him a chunky platinum band that screams I’m taken. If he were my man, I would want the world to know immediately. His wedding band wouldn’t be something people would have to search for; no, it would jump right out at them before they even had a chance to wonder.

I busy myself straightening my skirt and then I give him a kind, professional smile.

“Sorry about that, Sir.”

“No problem.” It’s the first time I hear him speak and my nipples tingle. His voice is deep and raspy, a perfect bad boy tone to accompany his bad boy persona.

Damn it.

I catch a whiff of his cologne and it infiltrates my senses, making me feel dizzy and intoxicated. I shake my head slightly to try and clear the fog that’s clouding my mind.

Stupidly, I look into his eyes. He is regarding me with a look I can’t decipher. He looks a little confused and pained, even. I imagine it is the same expression I am wearing, except, I know why I’m looking this way; he’s married, and I wish he wasn’t.

But, I have no idea why he is looking this way.

“Uh, I should, uh,” I throw my hands out in front of me and begin walking toward the bar. Throwing my head over my shoulder, I turned to look back at him. “Thank you for catching me,” I almost whisper.

I can feel his eyes burning holes into my back as I walk away, but I don’t turn back again.

There is no use.

“Hey, Jenn. How’s it goin’?” Glenda smiles at me as I slide my ass onto a barstool. Glenda is a middle-aged, married mom of eighteen-year old triplet sons who are always getting into trouble and causing her grief. I swear she gets called into the principal’s office once a week with those boys – as if having triplet sons wasn’t hard enough! Just yesterday, I had to cover her shift (bartending is not my forte) because Remy, was caught having “inappropriate sexual relations” at school. Glenda didn’t elaborate on the details when she returned, but, understandably so, she was livid. I feel sorry for the poor woman.

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