He shook his head, sliding onto a stool. “Guess I’m not used to sleeping in a real bed. I’ve spent most of the last month in my truck. The hot shower helped, though. I don’t get too many ofthose on the road. By the time I get to the truck stop, most of the hot water has been used up, and I end up taking a cold shower and grumbling about it all the way back to my truck.”
She smirked, “I’ve known a few truckers in my time, and they all liked to tell me about where they could grab the best hot showers. You have it mapped out, too?” she asked.
He shrugged, “Not really. I just know how nice it is to have hot water on your aching muscles after a long drive.”
“That’s why I couldn’t handle that life,” she admitted. “I spent most of my childhood never staying in one place as an Army brat. Well, until my parents died and I had to move in with my grandmother. So, now that I have a say in where I live, I kind of like staying in one place.”
He gave her a crooked grin, the kind that hinted at a story he wasn’t telling. “Yeah, well, some days I can’t handle it either, but it’s not too bad, for the most part. I do miss seeing my parents and sisters’ families—sometimes. Especially during the holidays.” As an only child, Belle had always dreamed of having siblings to spend the holidays with. She imagined big Christmas dinners and kids running all around, but that was not in the cards for her—especially after she lost both of her parents in a house fire when she was just a teenager. Her elderly grandmother had taken her in, but she was on her own for the most part.
Belle poured him a fresh cup of coffee. He hadn’t asked, but somehow, she knew he wanted it. His hands wrapped around the mug like it was something solid to hold onto. “I thought you might have trouble sleeping after tonight’s events, so I brewed a fresh pot. Hope it’s better than what I gave you earlier.” He took a sip of the hot coffee and nodded his agreement, even letting a soft groan of approval escape his chest. She wasn’t sure why that noise turned her on, but it had. Maybe it was because it had been a damn long time since she had found a guy sexy enough to takeher to his room, but Beast sure fit that bill. Sure, she could chalk it up to just being lonely, but there was something about him that made her girl parts stand up and pay attention.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what’s your story, Belle? You always been stuck bartending for a bar full of bikers?”
She lifted an eyebrow at the word stuck. “Not stuck. I chose it, really. I needed a job, and this place seemed to fit the bill.” She actually was lucky that she had found the job in the first place. A woman named Harly had moved to New York with one of the bikers—Hex. They left just around Halloween, and she got the job about that time. She was about to give up and move on, hoping that she’d find a job and place to live in another town, but bartending at Savage Hell had saved her the trouble of having to pack up her shit and start over.
She had inherited her grandmother’s little house after she passed, and she had to admit, selling that place was at the top of her list of things to do. She hated that house, and every night she went home to it just made her sad. There were no happy memories for her there. Her grandmother had been a recluse and basically made her one, too. For years, she stayed in with Grandma Minnie, not wanting to seem ungrateful by asking her if she could go out with some friends. Her last two years of high school were lonely ones. Once her friends realized that asking her to go to a party or hang out at the bowling alley wasn’t going to happen, they moved on. By the time she graduated, she had no one except Grandma Minnie, and that plain sucked for her. When her grandmother got sick, she was the one to take care of her, and when she passed, everything was left for her to figure out. And all she wanted to do was sell that God-awful house that she had been trapped in for way too long.
“It’s not a bad place to work, really. As long as the guys don’t give me crap, it’s pretty nice working here,” she admitted.
“You don’t seem like the type of woman to take crap from anyone,” he assessed.
“Not twice,” she replied, meeting his eyes. It came out steadier than she felt. There were things she didn’t talk about anymore, things that had taught her to stand her ground, especially around Savage Hell. He didn’t press, just looked at her like he saw more than she was willing to share, and she was thankful that he left it at that.
She changed the subject, nodding toward the window. “Savage will call someone to check your rig in the morning. One of the guys here, Cillian, owns an auto body shop in town, and might be able to get you fixed up—unless he has to order the tires, then it might take some time to get them in. It was probably some local kids trying to make a name for themselves. Happens all the time around here, unfortunately.” There were rival clubs, too, that would have no issue with stepping onto Savage Hell’s property to do something reckless to prove their loyalty to their club. She had learned the hard way that their rivals didn’t give a fuck who they hurt in the process of making a name for themselves.
“Yeah,” he said slowly, tracing the rim of his cup. “Or maybe it was someone with a reason to keep me here.”
That made her pause. “You think you were targeted?”
He gave a small shrug. “Seems a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
Belle studied him, trying to read what was behind that calm, quiet exterior. “Maybe,” she said softly. “Or maybe fate wanted you to slow down for once. When was the last time you slept in a real bed or had a hot shower? You said that it had been a while.”
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “If it’s fate, then she’s got a twisted sense of humor. I’ve been on the road most of the year,” he admitted. “But I was planning on taking some time off to spend with family, once this run was over. They live upin New York—Yonkers area, and I was going to drive North and spend some time up there until the New Year.”
“Well, maybe fate’s sense of humor isn’t as twisted as you think,” she countered, surprising even herself. “You might find something worth sticking around town for.” His gaze met hers, steady and unguarded, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. The music had stopped, and Belle looked around, realizing that they were the only two people still left in the bar. All the other guys had left, and she was sure that Savage was wrapping things up back in his office, as he had every night that he helped to close the bar.
Belle broke the silence first, “I think everyone’s gone home. It’s getting late. You want another cup of coffee?” she asked.
“You have anything stronger?” She smiled at him and nodded. “Unless you want to close up and kick me out.”
“Name your poison,” she breathed. “I have some time, and nowhere to be.” That was the truth. She’d go back to the house that she hated and spend the night thinking of all the things she’d do once she sold the place. Maybe she’d even travel with some of the money, but that wasn’t something that was in her comfort zone. She wasn’t kidding when she said that she couldn’t live life on the road. Her anxiety wouldn’t allow it—not that she usually let her anxiety get the better of her.
“How about some scotch?” he asked. “The brand doesn’t matter. I’m not picky.” She pulled a bottle of scotch from under the bar and handed it to him. His hand brushed hers as he took it—rough and warm. It was the kind of touch that sent a small spark straight up her arm. She pretended not to notice, though, but her heart beat a little faster anyway, and she was sure that she was blushing.
As the night stretched on, Belle realized she wasn’t in a hurry to close up. Something about the way Beast looked at her—quiet but sure, like he saw her instead of just another woman, madeher feel a little less anchored, and for once, she didn’t mind the idea of someone new sticking around and taking up space in her boring little world.
BEAST
Beast woke to the sound of muffled laughter drifting up from the bar below. For a moment, he forgot where he was. The mattress beneath him was too soft, the sheets too clean, and the faint scent of whiskey and smoke clung to the air from the bar below. He wasn’t in the sleeper cab of his rig, and that realization hit him harder than the slashed tires had the night before. Beast had almost forgotten how good it felt to sleep in a real bed. He spent his nights in his rig, showering at truck stops, but last night reminded him how nice it was to have a home base—not that a room above a bar would be considered that.
He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. The room was dim, and the morning light barely cut through the thin curtains over the windows. He wasn’t used to waking up in a real bed, and his body felt both heavy and restless at the same time. The silence of the road was gone, replaced by the hum of life downstairs. He was surprised that anyone would be at the bar so early until he checked his watch and realized that it was nearly noon. He never slept that late. Hell, he usually rose before the sun to hit the road again for the day.
Beast cursed softly to himself and quickly got out of bed. He showered and put on fresh clothing, quickly pulling on his boots and jacket, his mind already circling the problem of his rig. Someone had slashed his tires; he was sure of that. And with the shop closed until Monday, he was stuck, and he hated being stuck. The road to him was freedom, and now he felt caged. But the memory of Belle’s smile last night softened the edge of his frustration. Maybe being stuck in the small town wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him.
He made his way down the creaking stairs, the sound of voices growing louder. The bar was half-lit, a few bikers already nursing beers despite the early hour. Savage sat at his usual spot, a cup of coffee in hand, eyes sharp even in the morning haze. Beast wondered if he had spent the night there, but he had also heard that the guy had a big family waiting for him at home.
“Morning,” Beast muttered, sliding onto a stool next to Savage.
