Luanne went instantly still, her whole face lighting up.
“Oh hell,” Becca said.“Here we fuckin’ go—”
Luanne shot to her feet, already singing—loud and dramatic.She spun once, grabbing an invisible microphone and belting toward the ceiling, then shoved the “mic” toward the table.
Becca shook her head, laughing and pushing Luanne away, but Cassie caught her around the shoulders and dragged her in anyway.
“You’re everything, everything we wish we could be!”they both shouted.
Luanne barreled right over them, stretching the next line wide and loud.Around the bar, a few heads turned, a couple of laughs breaking out nearby—then the table next to them picked it up.Before Cassie knew it, Luanne had half the bar singing along.
By the time the song was in its final verse, Luanne was up on the karaoke stage with the microphone—her voice ringing out clear as she held the final note, letting it hang there until the whole bar broke into cheers and whistles.
“Keep on singin’, Luey!”someone shouted, and a chorus of agreement followed.
Luanne twirled, laughing, as the opening twang of “Man!I Feel Like a Woman!”kicked in—and as she jumped into it, the bar went wild all over again.
Cassie, grinning and feeling inexplicably light, tipped her head to Becca’s.“I’ll get us another round,” she shouted over the noise.
At the bar, she leaned an elbow on the counter, signaling Darlene for a refill.The crowd had thickened, bodies pressing close, and she didn’t notice the two men flanking her until the heat of them closed in.
“Well, well, well, what’ve we got here,” a familiar voice rumbled near her ear.
“Looks like a Berry to me,” another answered from the other side.
Crusher leaned in on her left, Rook on her right—both men she’d known since before they’d been men, let alone Kings.
“Caleb,” she greeted Crusher with a wry smile.“Elias,” she said to Rook.“Can I help you two with something?”
Crusher shrugged, grinning as he gazed her up and down.“Checkin’ for weapons.Don’t see anywhere to hide a bat…but you never know.”
Cassie’s mouth curved.“Don’t you have a clubhouse bar to haunt?Oh…wait…”
Crusher’s grin widened.“Yeah.Some little hellcat decided it was time for us to redecorate.”
“Shame I missed it,” Rook added, a small folding knife flicking between his fingers, quick and sure, the tip scratching overlapping diamonds and neat crosshatches into a coaster.“Heard you came in swingin’.Guess some things don’t change.”
Cassie angled toward him, her gaze dropping briefly to his handiwork.“And some things do.Looks a lot better than the dicks you used to carve on everything.”
Crusher barked out a laugh, but Rook just held her gaze a moment longer, expression unreadable.
Cassie rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar—Rook had always been weirdly serious, even as a kid, like the whole world was one long staring contest.
Onstage, the opening chords of “Gunpowder & Lead” kicked in, and Luanne grabbed the microphone stand and dipped it, belting out the first line.Halfway through the chorus, a handful of women jumped up from their seats, belting the lyrics back at her.Soon, Cassie found herself humming under her breath, absently moving in time with the beat as the bar thudded with the rhythm.Then Darlene was there, sliding fresh drinks toward her and blowing her a quick kiss before turning away.
Cassie hooked her fingers through the handles and turned from the bar—
—and nearly walked straight into Nash.
The jars jolted in her grip, cider sloshing.He stood close enough to block her path completely—a wall of dark jeans, black tee stretched tight across his chest, leather cut hanging open.His dark eyes locked on hers, and the noise of the bar seemed to narrow, the stomp and clap of the crowd fading under the thud of her spiking pulse.
The last time she’d seen him, they’d been nose to nose, ready to fling each other across the room.After several days of quiet—and Harvell’s news—all that heat had settled into something…less explosive.
“Careful, Nash,” Crusher called behind her.“Wouldn’t want a jar to the jaw.”
Cassie ignored him, eyes fixed on Nash.“Funeral home called.Guess I should thank you for—”
Nash shook his head, tapped his ear, and stepped in close, his head dipping toward hers.The familiar mix of warm leather and aftershave wrapped around her, doubling the thud echoing in her ears—why the hell did he always smell so fucking good?Half the bar smelled like sweat and smoke, but here Nash was—looking fresh off a fight and a ride—still smelling like the kind of mistake she already made once.
