I can’t help but laugh. “You think so?” I raise one eyebrow, leaning forward and putting my hands on the back of his neck. “You know, if you wanted to, you both could've taken your chances with me before I put the dress on.”
Beau chuckles, “And be late to our reservation at this restaurant that you worked so hard to get for us?”
The banter among the three of us is comfortable. We have formed a perfect relationship in the three months since they moved in with me. It’s one thing I’ve come to love about us. We can be playful, but at the same time there’s a depth between the three of us that I’m beginning to realize runs deeper than I could have ever expected.
We pull into the restaurant parking lot, and I’m already bouncing with excitement. I’ve had these reservations for weeks, and to be honest, they were almost impossible to get. This is the perfect place to enjoy a romantic evening together for the first time in our relationship. It took a lot of begging and pleading to get them to even leave the house with me. I can imagine the soft candlelight, the wine, and of course, the delicious food.
Then I see the flashing lights. Two cop cars sit parked right in front of the entrance, their lights flashing in the early evening dark, and a couple of cops are milling around the entrance.
Beau leans forward in his seat, frowning. Jackson’s grip on the wheel tightens.
"No way." Jackson mutters. “Not with cops here.”
I blink, my brows knitting together. “Umm, what do you mean, no way?” I glance between them. “I’ve had this planned for weeks! We have reservations! It’s our first Valentine's Day together, and we're already dressed up!”
Beau glances at Jackson, and I can see the tension between them building. Jackson just keeps driving through the parking lot towards the exit, his jaw clenched tight. “This isn’t going to work tonight. We can come back another time. I'm sorry, but I promise we can come back.”Jackson says, his voice quieter than usual. “Not with the cops around. Trust me, babe, not worth it.”
“What?!” I exclaim, confusion clouding my mind. “But we were already there. I've been thinking about this night for so long. What the fuck is going on? Why are you two acting so weird suddenly?”
I can tell from the way his jaw is locked that Jackson is not changing his mind as he pulls back out on the road with his hands still tight on the wheel. “Let’s go down the road. There’s a small biker bar. It’s more our speed, anyway.”
I glance at him, my frustration bubbling up. “A biker bar? Are you serious right now, Jackson? We’re dressed up for a high-end restaurant, and you want to take me to a biker bar for Valentine's?”
Beau's soft chuckle breaks through the tension. “Well, if you ask me, you are wearing the perfect outfit for it. I think that slit reaching so high up your leg will turn more heads than what you would have gotten at the restaurant.”
I pout, crossing my arms. “All I can say is they better have good food at this bar! You guys owe me big time.” I say, leaning back into my seat.
Beau laughs, “Oh, don’t worry. We will make it worth it once we get you home and out of that dress.”
Jackson pulls into the crowded parking lot of the bar, and I can’t help but feel my frustration just beneath the surface. This place is nothing like I would have ever imagined for our first Valentine’s Day. It looks…old and gritty. There are bikes parked everywhere and gruff-looking men walking around. The gravel crunches beneath the tires as Jackson parks, and I feel out of place in this dress and six-inch heels.
I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s weird, though, don’t you think? I mean, here we are in a car while everyone else rolls up on motorcycles. Not only that, but we are the only ones not dressed in some form of blue jeans or leather.” I gesture to the people around us, shaking my head. “You guys are killing me. This is supposed to be a Valentine’s Day dinner, not some spontaneous biker hangout.”
Jackson throws the car into park with a slight jerk, his jaw clenched even tighter than before. “Just roll with it, sweetheart. I promise it won't be that bad on the inside. Hell, maybe you will enjoy yourself more than you think. Change isn't always a bad thing.” He mutters, pushing open the door and getting out, not offering any other explanation.
Beau is a little more relaxed, getting out of the car with a chuckle. He walks to the back passenger door and opens it for me. “You’ll be fine, baby.” He teases, slinging his armaround me as I step out of the car. His touch is warm, but I still feel the edge of tension in the air. “I think you’ll actually love it here. Trust me.” He says with a wink.
I roll my eyes, still trying to shake off the irritation. The only light in the situation is the playful look on Beau’s face. His grin is infectious. I mean, what is the worst thing that can happen now that we are already here?
As we walk toward the door, I glance at the sign overhead, a neon one blinking the words The Rusty Bike Bar. The sign mixed with the dim lighting spilling from inside only makes the whole scene feel even less romantic. The air reeks of grease, cheap beer, and a hundred bad decisions. It honestly looks like something straight out of a B-rated TV show about bad boy bikers.
We walk inside, and the smell of fried food and strong liquor hits me immediately. The place is dim, and the walls covered with posters and faded photos of women in bikinis who look like they belong in a different era completely. There’s a pool table in the corner, and the bar is lined with a few men who glance up and catcall me as we walk by. I turn around, flipping them the finger. Jackson shoots his arm out, trying to hold my hand before I get us into trouble. “Behave, they are normal men, and you’re hot. If you weren’t here with me, I would catcall you too. Beau and I are not trying to get into a fight tonight.”
I stare at the assortment of people in the bar, leather jackets, tattoos, some men with full a beard and others with clean-shaven faces, and it only serves to remind me that every inch of my polished red dress stands out like the neon sign out front. Jackson and Beau seem right at home, though, moving through the space like they belong here.
Beau pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit. The smile on his face hasn't wavered since we got out of the car. “See? I told you this would be fun. We have been in here less than five minutes and you've already been hit on.”
I sink into my chair, still pouting, but I can’t help but laugh. “Fun, huh? You two are in serious trouble right now.”
Jackson takes a seat across from me, and despite the tension still lingering in the air, he leans forward a little, like he’s about to tell me the world's biggest secret but then seems to change his mind. He signals the server, who comes over immediately. “Can we get three burgers and fries?” He looks around the table. “Oh, and a bucket of beers.” He says smoothly.
The server, who apparently doesn’t see me, leans over the table, getting close to Jackson's face. She looks between him and Beau. “No problem, handsome. I’ll get that right out for you two and your…” She glances at me and shrugs, “friend.” She leans up and walks over to the bar to put in our order.
I feel my temper flare again, but then Beau’s hand reaches out and slips into the slit of my dress, holding me down to the chair. “Ignore her. She gets paid well around here to flirt with the men who come in. Don’t take it personally.”
“I honestly should just stab her…with a butter knife and a smile.” I narrow my eyes at both of them. “Enough with the games. One of you needs to tell me what the actual fuck is going on right now. Why the hell didn’t we go into the restaurant? I mean, the cops weren’t even there for you, were they? At least I hope they weren't.”
The server comes back, and this time doesn’t stay long enough to get herself stabbed. Too bad. Her loss. She drops our plates and a bucket of beer in the center of the table.
