Run Fur Love (BBW Tiger Shifter Romance) Page 2

  “If you’re going back to work, then I’ll take another one of these.” He held out the empty beer bottle. “Ma’am.” The smile he gave her was a mixture of half-cute, half-teasing, and completely thigh-loosening sexy. She took the bottle, got another from the cooler, opened it, and then set it on the bar in front of him.

  “Thanks.”

  There had to be something she could do at the other end of the bar. There had to be a reason to walk all that way down there, slowly, knowing he was watching her. As much as she bitched to Ember about gaining weight from just looking at food, at times like this, she wouldn’t give up her curves, for love or money. Well, maybe for love. Or lust. Or a combination of both.

  She pushed back the hair from her forehead. Now, the hair had always been an issue. She would gladly trade this mass of curls, for something like Ember’s sleek head of black hair. It always seemed to be orderly, neat, not a hot, sticky blob, that refused to be tamed. The color she’d keep; deep rich auburn, that caught the sun like beaten copper. But after a ride, unless she tied it up and back, it was a tangled mess.

  “So, who’s the guy?” Ember sidled up, gently elbowing Harley in the ribs, peeking past Harley’s shoulder, to the other end of the bar. “He’s new, right?”

  “He’s a drifter, from somewhere back east, I think. Kentucky. Just passing through.”

  “You seem to know a lot about a guy, who’s just passing through. You know, he’s probably looking for a place to spend the night, if he’s drifting. Why not give him a bed...” Ember’s sharp elbow jostled her again, and Harley almost spilled the drink she was pouring.

  “You’re pushing your limits there, Em. What about you? You still pining away for Van?”

  As soon as she’d said the words, she wanted them back. Ember’s expression clouded over, and the smile left her face. “Low blow, Harley.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just...you know him; you know what Van’s like. A different girl every week.” She looked past Ember’s shoulder. Van was done playing pool, sitting at the corner table, with his friends, and the blonde. He had his arm around her shoulders, whispering something in her ear. The girl decided at that moment to giggle, smiling up at Van. All as Ember watched.

  “You can’t be serious about him.”

  Ember wouldn’t look at her. Harley nudged her. Ember took a step away, head down.

  “Oh, hell, Ember. You’re really gone on him, aren’t you?”

  Ember rolled her eyes, but she smiled. “Gone on him? Where did you come up with that? One of your trashy, old-school romance novels?”

  “Well, what would you call it? You look at him with big cow eyes, follow him around. You bought a bike you will never ride, just because you wanted him to go with you, to help you buy it.”

  Ember looked over her shoulder at Van. “I’d call it insanity, if you want to know the God-awful truth.” When she looked back at Harley, the expression in her eyes almost broke Harley’s heart. Ember shrugged. “I can’t help how I feel. I’ve tried to ignore him. Tried to be where he isn’t. You can see how well that worked. He’s here, and I’m here.”

  “I thought you were here because you’re my friend, and you like spending time with me. And because you knew I desperately needed your help.” She smiled at Ember, teasingly.

  “Well, yeah, there’s that, too. Plus...” Ember smiled, a real smile this time. “I need the money. You know, to pay for that bike I will never ride.”

  They went back to work, pulling beer from the cooler, pouring drinks. Harley could tell Ember was keeping her eye on Van, and Harley was a bit annoyed with her. Ember was too good for Van, and she wished her friend could move on, and find someone worth pining over. And to be honest, she was annoyed with herself. She had a hard time keeping her eyes off the drifter. He’d gotten up once, and her heart did that irritating stop-start thing, thinking he was leaving, until she realized he was just headed to the washroom. When he came back, she’d gotten him another beer, and he’d given her that smile again. She could get used to that smile, she thought. But right now she was melting into a puddle of sweat.

  “Em, I’m gonna take a break, step out and get some air.”

  It was an hour from closing, but Harley knew that Ember could handle things for the time being. Then it would be last call, and she could call it a night.

  The thought made her sad, in some unexplainable way. She slipped out the back door onto the landing, breathing in the fresh air. It was cooler out here, a hell of a lot cooler than in the bar. She’d had fans running, but with the crowd in there, all those big men in leather, it never made a dent in the temperature. She thought it had something to do with being shifters, that they ran hotter than humans. Or, they could handle the heat better. She didn’t know. All she knew was without her shifters, life as she knew it, would be impossible.

  On her right, the moon was rising in the east, a white circle in the indigo sky, just clearing the top of Table Mountain, in the distance. It was bright enough to cast shadows, almost bright enough for her to read by, if she was in the mind to read a book outside. It was nice to think about her room, the fan blowing, reading the newest book on her to-be-read pile. But the air smelled like rain, and when she looked to the west, she saw big thunderheads blotting out the stars, dim flashes of lightning, making them light up purple and white from the inside.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  She recognized the voice, before she even turned around. Her heart did too, and it did a little two-step against her ribs. It had been a long time since just the sound of a voice did that to her. Holding back the urge to straighten her hair, she turned around. He stepped out of the back door, his steel-toed boots thudding on the boards of the porch.

  “What can I do for you, Drifter?”

  “I just came out for a little fresh air.”

  She suspected the air out the front door, was just as fresh as the back, but she wasn’t about to call his bluff. “It’s been so hot lately. I’m pretty sure once the storms get here, the weather will break. That’s the way it usually is. Tomorrow will be a great day for riding.”

  “Well, that’s going to put a crimp in my travel plans for tonight.”

  She looked up at him. The moonlight cast his eyes into deep shadows. In profile, she saw the fullness of his lips, and then kicked herself for noticing. So she looked at his nose, and then, when he turned to look down at her, kicked herself for being caught looking.

  “Were you going to keep riding tonight? It’s past midnight. You’d be crazy to ride. Deer, raccoon, all those little critters on the road. It’s suicide. Not to mention, you’ve had a bit to drink.”

  “You have a point there, ma’am.” He rubbed a finger alongside his nose. “I guess it’s another night camping under the stars then. Or in this case, under the rain…unless there’s a motel nearby?”

  “Listen, you can stay here...”

  “Oh, yeah? If you have a room.”

  Yes, she certainly had a room, as she lived above the club. She knew what she wanted, but it was rather presumptuous to assume he’d want the same thing.

  “I do, actually. And a place to put your bike.”

  “Why, thank you. I’d really appreciate that.” He took a step closer. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t keep calling you ma’am, if I’m going to be staying with you.”

  “Right… I’m Harley. Harley Myers.”

  His lips curved into a smile, and she waited for the inevitable. “Harley, like the bike?”

  “Like the bike.”

  “Then I’m sure you’ve heard your share of motorcycle jokes. I won’t add to the list.”

  “You’re the first person not to. Thank you for that.” She’d heard them all, every last one of those stupid jokes. “And in case you’re curious, I’m not related to the guys who started the company either.”

  “Never would have thought to ask.” But even in the moonlight, she could see the crook of his lips, as he smiled.

  “So... you own this
place?” He leaned back against the wall, cocking one foot against the weathered wood. “Seems an unusual place to find a girl.”

  “To find a girl?” A little prickle of irritation ran up her spine. “What exactly does that mean?”

  He held up one hand. “No offense. I only meant that you’re kind of isolated out here, and when the bar clears out, it’s just you. I assume you live above the bar? You offered me a room, and I doubt you’d leave a stranger here alone overnight”

  “Oh…yes.” This guy hadn’t just fallen off the wagon yesterday. The little prickle of irritation changed into something else, a little rush of anticipation. Excitement. She wanted to test the waters, see if he was thinking the same thing she was.

  “Can I trust you?”

  His face was turned away from the moon, all of it in shadow. Slowly, he dropped his boot to the ground, turning his body toward her.

  “With what?”

  “With what’s important.”

  He took a step closer to her. She could smell the shifter, the animal in him. For all the ease he had about him, whatever ran just beneath the surface was wild and untamed. The wild part of her, the woman inside her that wanted so much, rose up.

  It was easy to let him touch her, put his hand on her face, cradle her jaw in his hand, so that just his fingertips controlled her movements. How fitting, she thought. He has me in the palm of his hand.

  It was even easier to let him lean down to her, his hot breath washing over her neck, his lips inches away from hers. Her lips parted on their own, and she let her eyes close, wanting to feel every bit of the wild sensations that coursed through her veins at his touch. When his lips finally touched hers, the heat inside her swirled hotter than she thought possible, and he took her breath away.

  If she’d been a shifter, if she’d had an animal inside her, it would have growled, and slashed, and clawed to get out, aching to take on this tiger, on its own terms. The kiss deepened, his tongue meeting hers, his soft lips crushing against her own, but he didn’t touch her, other than to keep his fingers under her chin. It took all her will to hold back, to keep from throwing her arms around him, and pull him down on top of her, even if it were down to the floorboards, of the back porch.

  “Hey, Harley, break’s over...”

  Harley broke away with a gasp, but he let his hand linger on her cheek, for just a moment longer. Then he stepped back, all slow and easy. She turned. Ember had her head stuck out of the back door. Her expression was almost comical, all big brown eyes wide, with feigned surprise.

  “Oh, sorry.” The last word was drawn out. “Didn’t know you were busy.”

  “I’m coming, Em.” She reluctantly turned, and walked away from the drifter. Before she made it inside, she turned back to him, hand on the door frame. “I assume you’ll be here after closing?”

  She caught his nod, and the glimmer in his piercing gray eyes, in the moonlight. Then she stepped back into the light, and heat of the bar. And waited for her drifter to come back to his seat at the bar, so she could bathe in his smoldering heat, once again.

  * * *

  He didn’t reappear. She yelled out last call, listened to people grumble and complain, then finally started to clear out. One by one, she watched them make their way outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of her drifter in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Ember was out picking up empty bottles off the floor, and wiping down tables, as she watched Van from the corner of her eye, obviously trying to find out if he was going home with the blonde. It broke Harley’s heart all over again to see her friend hurting, and it was all she could do not to go pull her back behind the bar. But Ember was lovesick over Van, and she’d have to get him out of her system on her own.

  Guys and girls were starting to leave, arms wrapped around shoulders, hook ups, married, and otherwise. Harley watched Ember watching Van and the blonde, feeling a deep sense of sadness for her friend.

  Suddenly, some kind of argument was brewing between Van and the blonde. Frankly, she looked pissed as hell at Van, but since he was so soft spoken, you couldn’t make out what he was saying, or what the fight was about. As the crowd cleared, they could hear the blonde cussing at him, her face wreathed in anger.

  Ember came back behind the bar, with a tray of empties. She looked pale, brows pulled down, eyes on her feet.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Harley nodded at Van. The blonde was gathering up her purse and jacket, stomping around, obviously anxious to get out of the bar. Ember stood next to Harley, watching.

  “Slap or a drink in his face?” Harley asked, nudging Ember.

  “You’re kidding?” Ember barked out a laugh. The blonde called Van another name, and he winced, but didn’t say anything. “Yeah, okay. Slap. Right or left.”

  “Right. She plays pool right-handed.” Truthfully, Harley hoped it was neither. She was pretty sure Van never meant to hurt women; he usually seemed genuinely surprised when these arguments just seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

  Then it happened. The woman slapped Van, left-handed, surprising no one, but Van. And Harley lost the bet.

  Harley shrugged. “I guess she’s ambidextrous when it comes to slapping guys.”

  The blonde stormed out, pushing past Bear. As she did, the drifter walked through the door. The blonde glared at both of them. He moved a prudent distance away, and then took his seat at the bar.

  “Looks like you’re getting lucky tonight, Harley.” Ember dropped the bottles into the bin, the glass crashing and breaking. Harley frowned at the noise.

  “No one’s getting lucky. He was going to camp out, and it’s going to rain. I’m just giving him space for his bike, and a bed for the night. The only motel in this town is always booked solid around this time of year. I’m just being nice.”

  “Geez, don’t get so defensive, girl. Just because I never get lucky, doesn’t mean you can’t. If he’s your type, and by the look of him, he certainly is, then go for it. Why the hell not? You only live once, right?”

  Harley blew out a sigh, and ran her fingers through her hair. “I know. I’m just...it’s been a long time for me, you know? He’s obviously handsome as hell, and there’s something about him. I don’t know what it is, but I’m definitely attracted to it. And hey, we’re in the same place, at the same time... But still, I don’t like one-night stands. You know this.”

  “Who’s to say it’ll be a one-night stand? You never know, Harley. And even if it is, how often do you find yourself attracted to the guys that come in here? I’ve personally never seen you act like this. I say go for it. Live a little.”

  “You have a point.” Harley couldn’t help, but smile. Ember knew her well, and it was true, Harley was rarely ever even phased by the guys that hung out in her bar, but this one…he was different.

  Ember reached behind Harley, and pulled the strings on the beer-and-whiskey stained apron, pulling it off, and tossing it on the counter. “So what are you waiting for? I can close up here. Just get your ass over there, and take Mr. No-Name-Drifter wherever you’re going to take him. And call me in the morning with all of the details.”

  Harley shook her head, and laughed, as Ember went off to collect more empties. Without seeming too obvious, she glanced down the length of the bar. Drifter was still there, nursing what looked like a soda. Behind him, at the door, Bear rose like a mountain of a man, hands on hips, staring down a couple of young guys who thought they’d raise some hell, before leaving. When staring at them didn’t work, Bear reached out, grabbed each guy by the collars of their leather jackets, and dragged them outside. She heard the double thud of bodies, hitting the ground.

  She wandered toward the end of the bar, clearing off a few glasses, using her apron to wipe down the bar, as she went. It was idle work, and she knew it, and she was pretty sure the drifter knew it too. Finally, she ran out of bar to wipe, and found herself in front of the guy.

  “You ready to put your bike up for the night?”

  “Yes, ma�
�am.” He slid off the stool with an easy grace, and picked up the leather pack he’d set on the floor.

  She was conscious of him behind her, as she walked out the front door, and into the parking lot. The few remaining guys were revving engines, and shouting bullshit to each other, over the roar of the bikes. She knew them, and they were harmless. Just bikers messing around with other biker friends. Nothing to worry about.

  “Over there...” She pointed to the shed, where she usually kept her bike, the dawn-to-dusk light, casting an orange shadow on the yellow dirt. A large garage took up most of the lower level, for those who wanted to hang out on Saturday afternoons, and mess around with their bikes. The bar doubled as the clubhouse, and when the weather was nice, guys and their families got together, kids throwing Frisbees and running around in the dirt, wives exchanging gossip. Harley loved those afternoons; it was the family she always wanted. Family and friends, cold beer, and hamburgers on the grill. That’s what life was all about.

  The drifter headed toward a beautiful black and silver motorcycle that sat off, in the corner of the dusty lot, and she watched every long-legged step he took, enjoying the swagger of his muscular frame, and that perfect ass, highlighted by those fitted blue jeans. He grabbed the handlebars, and pushed the bike along, and she fell into step alongside him.

  “Nice bike.” Not the most original opening line, but hey, it was a gorgeous motorcycle, all blacked out with silver trim. “Looks like you take good care of it.”

  “She’s the love of my life. I’ve put more miles on her than I care to count, but each one’s been better than the last.”

  Harley tugged open the big double door to the garage. It screeched—it always screeched, because everyone said they’d oil the track, but no one ever did—and he pushed the bike inside, under the loft overhang.

  “Where’s yours?”

  Harley tilted her head towards the bar. “Out front. I only bring it inside when I’m gone for a while. I just thought it best that you store yours inside considering no one will recognize it, and I wouldn’t want anyone to touch your baby.”