Rough Hand (Rock Bridge Ruffians, Book One) Read online

  I laugh and hold up my mug, clinking it against his. “It’s been a helluva…” Day? Month? Year? I don’t even know how to answer it, so I lamely finish with, “Life.”

  “Understood.” He sips his beer, his gaze shifting forward. Then he angles his body a bit toward mine. “So, you come here often?” After the words slip out, he cringes and rakes his free hand through his light brown hair. “Wow, that was a winner.”

  I gotta hand it to him, at least he’s taking my mind off my own shitty life. “You have a way with pickup lines, I’ll give you that.” I pause. “Scorpio, by the way. My sign, in case you were going to ask.” I wink.

  He chuckles, flashing bright white teeth. “Well played. I’m Nate.” He reaches out his hand and takes mine.

  “Alexa. And no, I just moved to Rock Bridge. This is my first time at this bar.” I glance around the bar again, taking in the wide variety of clientele. “It’s…interesting.”

  “Ah, so you don’t know the story behind this place. It used to be a hardcore biker bar. Total dive, with fist fights breaking out, like, every night. People were scared to come here. But the owner—three brothers—turned it around, and now it’s a popular place. I admit, all us locals are a little surprised at the change. The Becketts don’t exactly have the best reputations.”

  I settle onto my stool, and Nate takes the stool behind him, swinging to face me. Our knees brush. I don’t get a thrill rushing through me, but that’s okay. I’m not interested in hooking up right now. I have too much on my plate to go there. I could use some friends, though.

  Nate and I talk for a couple of minutes about nothing in particular—the hot weather over the last few days, local upcoming events around town, and the like. I ask him about his job, and he informs me he’s a professor of science at a nearby university.

  “You’re awfully young to be a prof,” I tease. “I never had anything in class who looked like you.” All my profs were old men or women who smelled like books and snobbery. Ah, academia.

  He quirks a brow. “Is that right? You know, someone could take a remark like that as flirting, Alexa.”

  I open my mouth to reply that I was just commenting on his youth when something catches my attention off to the side, a group of guys. One of them looks familiar—and I recognize him instantly.

  Levi.

  My stomach gives a strange little lurch, and I find my face flaming hot. I can’t help but replay our conversation from earlier today, his smugness, how he was so sure I’d never fit in. That I’m too clean-cut and pure to ever work at his shop.

  His eyes catch mine, and he stops in place, staring hard at me. There’s something in his gaze that’s intense, deep…something I can’t read.

  And I have to admit that I wish he’d keep looking at me. That if he wasn’t so rude and condescending, I’d have had a major crush on him.

  Hell, maybe I still do.

  But that can’t possibly be. He and I are opposites. And he’s a jerk, anyway. No way would he find someone like me sexually appealing.

  “Alexa?” Nate is saying. He grins. “Did I lose you there?”

  I blink and force my gaze back to him. My throat is tight and I feel uncomfortable, but I try to ignore that reaction. I don’t care about Levi. He doesn’t matter at all. “No, sorry,” I manage to say. “My brain’s all over the place today, sorry. It was kind of a rough one. I’ve been job hunting.”

  “Ah, my sympathies.” He smiles.

  “So tell me about the classes you’re teaching,” I say, hoping to encourage him to talk.

  Nate spends a few minutes discussing his summer schedule, the kinds of students he’s teaching, mingling in a few funny stories about the people in his classes. I keep my attention focused squarely on him, smiling and laughing and nodding at the right moments.

  And the entire time, I can feel the weight of Levi’s gaze on me.

  I don’t want him to see how he’s gotten to me. How he unnerves me.

  How attractive I find him, despite his rudeness earlier.

  Why is he looking at me? Is he thinking about my parting shot and wanting to say something in response? Is he laughing on the inside about the stupid innocent girl who tried to work at the big, bad man’s motorcycle shop?

  My skin gets tingly from all the attention, despite my efforts. I straighten my back and rest my hand on Nate’s forearm. Nothing sexual, but just enough to tell Mr. Intimidating that I’m not spending one extra second thinking about him.

  Which is a total lie, of course. My whole body is hyperaware of him, despite me trying desperately to pretend otherwise. But I’ll never let Levi know anything I’m thinking.

  Nate leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling. “You’re really pretty, Alexa.”

  I flush again, but this time it’s from discomfort. Shit. This is my fault—in an effort to prove something to Levi, I pushed too far with Nate. I’m trying to figure out how to backtrack gracefully when I feel a strange prickling along my skin. Without turning around, I know it’s Levi standing right behind me.

  Levi

  I stroll into Outlaws with Tommy and Cade, two friends who work for me at the shop. Today was a rough one—that fucking custom bike I’m working on had a wrong part shipped in from a vendor, so I had to call the customer and explain the delay. She wasn’t happy. I had to throw in some extra custom work to appease her. More fucking money out of my pocket.

  “I need a beer right now,” Tommy declares. He scratches his burly dark red beard. “That was a long-ass day.”

  Cade grunts his agreement. We head to a table near the bar and settle in. Jax Beckett brings us menus, shaking our hands and saying hi with his usual outgoing friendliness. Our beers are delivered fast, and we scour the menu for appetizers.

  Been coming to Outlaws for a long time, well before it changed into what it is today. The Becketts and I go way back—longtime friends. Not to mention several of their clan have bought bikes and gear off me. Gotta appreciate loyal customers.

  Cade and Tommy are chatting about upgrades they’re making to a chopper when my gaze snags one someone at the bar. Someone quite familiar.

  The girl who came in to interview with me.

  Alexa is her name. Miss Prim and Proper.

  Miss Smoking Hot and Oh So Innocent.

  After she left, I went back to working on the bike, but I couldn’t focus. All I kept seeing were her eyes, filled with fire. Hearing the husky, rich tone of her voice. Aching to reach over and touch the heavy curve of her breast, tug that shirt out of her skirt and see how soft her skin really is.

  I know it would be softer than silk. But I shake those fantasies off and get back to reality.

  And here she is, sitting at Outlaws, still ripe and innocent in her jeans and thin black shirt.

  My cock gives a heavy pulse in my jeans, and I will it down. I can’t be attracted to her. I won’t be. She’s totally fucking wrong for me. Everything about Alexa screams commitment, emotions, intimacy. Shit I don’t want in my life right now.

  Shit I don’t want in my life ever.

  I see her lean toward a guy and laugh, resting her hand on his forearm. A surge of heat flares through me at the sight. Can’t be jealousy. I refuse to believe that. To accept that. No reason for me to be jealous—she isn’t mine.

  But I also know I don’t want to see any other guy in the bar talk to her.

  Fuck, wait, I know that guy. Nate. He’s a total dick…and now he’s making the moves on the new girl in town. Shocker.

  “Yo, Levi,” Cade is saying, waving his hand in my face. “You awake, or sleeping with your eyes open?”

  “Just saw someone I know,” I murmur.

  They follow my gaze and spot Alexa as she crosses one long, curvy leg, her foot swinging in a lazy pattern. Her gaze connects with mine, and it’s like all the air is sucked out of my lungs. Like my world narrows until it’s nothing but the space between her and I.

  Fuck. She’s beautiful. Her soft pink lips are par
ted, and a flush steals its way over her cheeks. She’s all purity and goodness. What the fuck is she doing in a place like this?

  Her gaze tears away from mine, and I feel the loss instantly. She goes back to talking to that jack-off.

  I went to high school with Nate, so I know all about him. He acts like he’s nice, and on the surface he seems clean-cut and gentlemanly. I’ve seen him hit on a few of my female friends—and more than one told me he turns handsy awful quick and doesn’t like to hear no for an answer.

  I’ve had words with him in the past, and right about now I wish I’d done more than just speak my mind to him.

  Alexa doesn’t know what he’s really like though.

  I can’t sit by and watch this happen. Fuck that. It’s what any decent guy would do, I tell myself, even though part of my brain taunts me that I know the real reason I’m going to do something that’s probably stupid and foolish.

  I don’t want to stand by and watch this woman flirting with someone else. Especially a douche like him.

  I stand. “I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell the guys and move toward the bar before they can reply.

  When I reach her side, I don’t even have to say a word. She seems to sense my presence and spins around.

  Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak. Nate, on the other hand, shifts in his seat and grows visibly uncomfortable. Yeah, shit stain. I’m about to rat you out. I narrow my eyes at him.

  “What do you want?” Alexa finally asks me, her voice betraying an edge.

  Yeah, I probably deserve that. I did turn her down for that job, after all.

  I give her companion a knowing look. “I came to let you know about this guy you’re talking to. He’s a real ass.”

  Alexa frowns. “If you think he’s an ass, that probably means he’s a great guy.”

  Nate guffaws. “She’s got your number, Levi.” Then his laughter dies and he reaches over to take Alexa’s upper arm. “You said what you had to say,” he tells me. “But we’re in the middle of a conversation.”

  She stiffens and licks her lips, eyeing him. By the tightness of her body language, it’s clear she doesn’t want him groping her.

  “Get your fucking hand off her arm,” I growl.

  “Ease up, killer,” Nate says in a false jovial tone, removing his grip and holding up both hands in a peaceful gesture. He knows I’ll kick his ass—probably remembers the beat down I threatened him with after he got too grabby with a girl I know. “We’re just talking, that’s all. She’s new to town. I’m making her feel welcome.”

  “I don’t think she needs your kind of welcome,” I say quietly.

  “Excuse me. I’m right here,” Alexa sputters. “Maybe you two can stop talking about me like I don’t have a voice.”

  I don’t say anything, just keep staring at Nate until he grabs his beer and slides out of the stool.

  “I gotta get going,” he murmurs to her. “I’ll… I hope to see you around.”

  “No you won’t,” I call after him, as he beats a hasty retreat.

  I can’t fight back the smug righteousness that fills my chest. So long, fucker. One less woman he can mess with.

  Alexa, however, is all glares when she eyes me. “Seriously? What gave you the right to just send away someone who was being nice to me?”

  I take the stool he left and lean my arm on the bar. After a small signal to Jax, he comes over and brings me a fresh beer. I take a long sip, knowing my delay in answering is just making her more frustrated, then finally say, “He’s not nice. Ask around—anyone will tell you. Believe me or don’t, but I have no other reason to say this other than it’s true.”

  Which is kind of bullshit.

  I don’t think I could have stood for the Pope having her all to himself right now.

  Her cheeks turn a dull red, and she looks down in her beer. “Well…thanks, I guess. Assuming you were really trying to warn me and all.”

  “You should probably leave,” I say, swigging my beer and clapping it on the bar. “This isn’t a great place for you.”

  She lifts her chin, her eyes pouring fire. “I’m an adult perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I’ll go where I want.” She finishes the rest of her beer and then thunks the empty mug on the bar. Then waves at Jax, asking for another.

  “Oh, trust me. I noticed you’re an adult,” I tell her. I can’t help it—my gaze drifts down to check out the gentle mounds of her breasts, the swerve of her hips, the length of her legs.

  “So you ran off the other guy, saying he’s a jerk, but here you sit,” she blurts out, taking a drink of her fresh beer. “He wasn’t good enough to talk to me, but you are?”

  That makes me laugh. “Oh no, sweetheart. I’m no good for you either.”

  Doesn’t stop me from wanting to reach over and stroke her fingers, fantasizing about sliding my hand up her arm, over to her breast, feeling that supple flesh.

  That makes my dick perk to life and my blood pulse.

  Alexa’s eyes dart down, and she fiddles with a loose strand of hair. She looks back up at me. “Why are you still here then? Nate’s gone so I guess I’m safe.”

  It’s a good question. A fair question. One I’m not sure I want to answer…or even delve into too deeply. Because honestly, I’m drawn to the spark in her eyes, the way she stands up for herself and gives as good as she gets. I can see her strength, and it pulls me in.

  I give a wry smile. “Maybe I just like torturing you.” I sip my beer.

  That makes her crack a small smile at me. Finally. Part of me was jealous that dick-face Nate could elicit a smile from her, but I couldn’t.

  And I know she’s probably pissed about me not giving her the job, but it’s better this way.

  Not to mention I could see her being a distraction for me. A very dangerous distraction.

  “Well, you’re good at torturing people. Have you thought about giving up the shop and doing this full time?” she lobs back.

  I shrug carelessly. “Nah. Not much money to be made in being a dick these days.”

  “Unless you’re in the porn industry.” Her eyes are innocent, but the sparkle in there is unmistakable.

  “Ah, fair enough. So what kind of porn do you prefer?” I ask, leaning toward her. We’re inches apart now—this close, I can see the flecks of brown in her eyes. The thickness of her lashes. That small pulse thumping at the base of her throat that gives away her emotion—is that nervousness?

  Or could it be arousal?

  Alexa clears her throat, and I see her pupils flare. “I…don’t really watch a lot of porn.”

  “I figured,” I quickly reply.

  “But when I do,” she shoots back just as fast, “I like the amateur stuff. It’s more fun to see regular people enjoying each other. No faking. Just genuine hotness.”

  Hmm. I shouldn’t let my mind trip down this lane, but there it is. The thought’s in my head now about Alexa and sex. Wondering what it would be like to peel her clothes off, taste that body, hold those curves…tug her hair back and lick her neck…

  “I like your answer,” I admit. “Nothing worse than porn face.”

  She raises a brow and sips her beer. “Porn face?” she finally says.

  “You know, where you can tell she’s mentally writing her grocery list, but she’s trying to make her face look like she’s totally into it. Porn face.” I shrug like everyone knows this kind of information.

  That makes her bark out a laugh. “Okay, yeah, I think I know exactly what you mean. Porn face. Huh. Rikki would get a kick out of that one.”

  “Who’s Ricky? He your boyfriend?” She mentioned being new to town…did she leave a guy behind?

  She gives me a knowing look. “Rikki with an I. She’s my friend from back home.” Her soft sigh is almost too faint to be heard, but the flare of sadness in her eyes can’t be missed.

  “So, did you apply at the ice cream shop?” I ask, partly to bust her balls and partly to wipe that sadness from her face. I don’t know
her story. It isn’t my business. But she’s alone in a bar on a weeknight. The girl is looking for escape, that much is almost certain.

  Fuck. The thought of helping to distract her, one stripped-off item of clothing at a time, makes my chest tighten. I can smell her light perfume, something with undertones of vanilla and flowers. Her lips are soft-looking, and I have to fight the urge to push forward and taste her mouth.

  I’m not normally into girls like her. I like ‘em wild, fun, no strings attached. But there’s more to Alexa than meets the eye.

  I’m no fucking good for her. And she’s probably no good for me, either. But hell if I don’t find myself wanting her right now. My cock is slamming against my zipper at the thought of thrusting my tongue in her mouth, swallowing her moans…

  “Very funny,” she says, and it takes me a moment to remember what our conversation was about. “No, I didn’t try the ice cream place. But I do have a possible job lead.”

  “That’s good.” As bad as she’d be a fit for the shop, I don’t like the thought of her desperate for work. That much was clear in the way she was pushing me during our interview, despite it being glaringly obvious how that was never gonna happen. “So what do you do when you’re not looking for work?”

  She arches a brow. “What do you care?”

  “Maybe I don’t,” I say bluntly. “Maybe I’m just making polite conversation while thinking dirty thoughts about your body.” It’s easier to talk to her, to be in her presence, if I don’t let things delve past the physical level of attraction I have for her. I can handle those terms.

  Her lips part and she sucks in a small breath. I see that telltale throb of her pulse on her throat, how she shifts ever so slightly in her seat, the rise and fall of her breasts against that damned thin shirt…the shirt that reveals the hardness of her nipples.

  Fuck yes. She’s sexy as hell beneath that good girl persona—and she likes the way I’m talking to her right now.