Page 3 of The Fake Out

“Hmm? Oh, that’s Veronica. She’s a regular,” Dad explained with a shrug.

I cocked an eyebrow at him, like that explained anything at all. “So you’re giving her a beer for free…why?”

Dad fixed me with a glare. “Because it’s my bar, and I can do what I want. Go see what that pretty brunette down at the bar wants.”

I rolled my eyes at him but did as he asked.

I smiled at the pretty brunette, who was clearly interested by the way she looked at my forearms and the sultry smile she flashed. But my eyes drifted over to the mysterious woman Ayden was talking to. Damn. From here, she looked gorgeous, and my curiosity wanted to get a better look at her tattoos up close.

“Blaise? Go ask Veronica if she needs a ride home,” Dad said while he fixed another drink.

Ayden came back around to the bar, printed out a check from the register, and then shoved it at me. “Go deliver this.”

I reluctantly took it. “Why me?” I asked Dad.

He fixed me with a blue-eyed glare that mirrored my own. “Just do it. I need Ayden here to manage the bar. Make sure she gets home safe.”

I felt like this was some sort of setup. Who was this woman? And why did my dad want me to make sure she got home safe?

Maybe if she wasn’t so hot, I would have questioned my dad’s motives. But it got me out of working the rest of the night, so I didn’t care.

Chapter Two

VERONICA

My ex was a hockey fan. Like hardcore, bled black and red for the Philadelphia Bulldogs. I’d watch games with him, but sports were never my thing. I’d sketch or paint while he had the game on, tuning it out while I worked on my art.

So why did I spend a lot of time at the hockey-themed sports bar we used to frequent? Probably to torture myself. But also because I had a soft spot for the owner Hal.

Hal was an ex-Bulldog—hence his bar being hockey-themed. Come to think of it, it wasn’t just hockey-themed; it was Bulldogs-themed. On the wall hung one of his game-worn jerseys and memorabilia from when the team won the Cup back in the eighties. Even the decor was black and red. Not to mention, it was the local after-game hangout for the current team.

The real reason I came here was because I felt safe at the bar. Hal always told me he was watching over me, and since my dad passed a few years ago, I craved that fatherly protection.

Tonight I was on another date, but unfortunately, it was yet another bust in a series of busts.

The bald-headed bartender with skin that might be whiter than mine put a beer down in front of me. I squinted up at Ayden Holmstrom. “I didn’t order this.”

Ayden jerked his thumb to the bar where Hal was laughing with another big blonde dude that looked just like him. I had to assume it was one of Ayden’s brothers.

“My dad thinks you need it. Did the guy bail?” Ayden asked.

Ayden was kind of douchey but hot. I may have aggressively hit on him before when I was drunk, but he claimed Hal said I was off-limits. I think that was his way of letting me down easily. It wasn’t my fault the entire family was hot. I probably would have hit on Hal, too, if not for the fact he still wore his wedding ring.

I dropped my head to the table and pretended to bang it against the wood. “He said tattoos on women were ugly, and then I told him to eat a dick.”

Ayden laughed while he cleared the plates. My date had bailed as soon as I said that last part. He said he had to go to the bathroom and never came back. That was ten minutes ago, and now I was stuck with the check for both of us.

“You’re an asshole, V!” Ayden teased.

“Duh!” I agreed and sipped my lager.

I eyed the mysterious blonde guy at the bar. He leaned over it, laughing while he flirted with a pretty brunette. The two of them were all coy smiles.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

Ayden rolled his eyes. “My pathetic brother.”

“Which one?”