Throughout her classes the next day and her shift at the diner afterward, Krissi couldn’t keep the tattooed bartender out of her head. The memory of his deep, rumbling voice as he asked where she was from made her skin tingle. She tried not to think about him, to focus on her classes, then her job. But by the time her shift ended, she couldn’t resist the urge and had to stop at the bar again. The need to see him at least one more time was overwhelming. She didn’t have time for a relationship. Not while she worked on rebuilding her life. But what about a single night? Who would blame her for taking a little bit of pleasure where she could? Besides, while today hadn’t been as rough as the day before, she could use a drink or two before heading home.

Her shift finally ended at eight. Business had been slow, and she would have sworn she’d been on her feet for twenty hours instead of six. To add insult to injury, she had made a whopping eighteen dollars in tips. Definitely not her best day. Krissi gathered her backpack full of books and walked the two blocks to the bar. She stood for a moment after pushing the door open and stepping inside. After several seconds, she saw a tall woman who looked to be probably sixty behind the bar, not the man she’d been looking for. Her shoulders fell.

“Krystal.” That familiar, deep voice came from the other side of the room. Blinking, she turned, looking for the source. There, sitting at the table in the corner. But he wasn’t alone. She hesitated to join him. Instead, she went to the bar and slid onto the same stool she’d used the day before.

“What do you want?” The older woman’s voice was rough from years of smoking.

Krissi took a deep breath and looked at the taps. “Give me an MGD.”

“I’m gonna need ID.” The bartender looked like she expected an argument from her. Krissi just handed her driver’s license across the bar. The woman looked at it then back at her as if double-checking that the photo was really her.

“She’s good, Marge.” The deep voice was beside her now. She knew it was the man she’d hoped to see. The one she still didn’t have a name for. “I checked it good yesterday.”

Krissi turned and watched as he slid onto the stool beside her. He wore the same kutte he’d worn the day before with another white t-shirt and jeans. Without the bar in the way, she could see he wore heavy leather boots like most people wore while riding. It fit. And it didn’t help her libido. Her stomach flip-flopped and heat pooled low in her belly.

“If you say so, boss.” Marge passed Krissi’s license back and went to pour the drink.

“Boss?” Krissi asked, turning back to the man sitting beside her.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I run the place.” He stared for a moment. “Another rough day, Krystal?”

She cringed at his use of her full name. “Actually, it’s Krissi. And today wasn’t too bad, other than being slow and taking forever.” She drew the word out.

“Krissi, huh? It fits you.” He reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Krissi turned her cheek toward his hand, wanting to lean closer, but Marge set a frosty mug in front of her.

“That’ll be three dollars,” the older woman said.

“It’s on the house,” the man next to her said without breaking eye contact.

“If you say so, boss.” The old woman moved away to tend to other patrons further down the bar.

“Thank you—” Krissi picked up the glass and took a sip “—for the drink. You know who I am, but I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Ruger.”

“Ruger?” She lifted one eyebrow. “Like the gun?”

“Yep.” He sat quietly, eyes on her as if waiting for her to make the next move. She glanced around, not sure what to say. “So, if today wasn’t as bad as yesterday, and you didn’t want a drink or two to relax, why’d you come in?” He paused a moment. “I’m hoping it was to see me,” he said with a cocky grin.

Krissi pretended not to notice his grin and took a drink. “Seeing you might have been part of the reason I stopped.” She watched him through her lashes.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

“Not really. I was going to study, but I don’t have anything that must be turned in tonight. Why?”

“I was thinking about going for a ride. Thought you might like to go.”

She took another drink while pretending to think about it. It had been months, and she missed watching the world slide by from the back of a bike.

“How do I know I can trust you?” She wasn’t worried. She carried a folding knife in her pocket and a pistol in her backpack. Krissi knew it was illegal to bring it into a bar, but where was she going to leave it? It’s not like she had a car to leave it in. She glanced around the room again. It didn’t look like any of these guys expected the cops to show up and check, either. She could see the outline of at least one pistol, and she suspected a second as she looked around the room. She returned her attention to the man beside her. With a name like Ruger, chances were good he was carrying something, too.

Ruger looked a little surprised at her question. “I’d never do anything you don’t want done.” He met her gaze. “I may not be the best guy around, but I’ve never hurt a woman. Well, not one who didn’t want it.” He grinned.

Krissi narrowed her eyes at him, letting him know she wasn’t impressed with his lip.

“All right,” she said after a moment. She tipped her glass back and took a long swallow. It was more than half gone now. “You want to leave soon?”

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.” Ruger looked her up and down. “The clothes will do, but do you have any better shoes? We can swing by your place so you can change if you want.”

“I’ve got a pair of boots at home.” She took another drink. “I’d like to change clothes, too, if you don’t mind. These smell like greasy food and coffee.”

“Whatever you like.” He watched as she drained her glass.

“All right, let’s go.” She set her glass on the counter with a thump, stood, and dug a couple of ones out of her pocket. Dropping them on the counter beside the empty glass, she turned back to Ruger. “What?” she asked at his surprised look.

“Nothing.” Ruger shook his head and motioned for her to precede him to the door.

* * *

Outside, Krissi found what little light there had been when she’d entered was gone. The sun had long since set, and the only light left came from the streetlights and the neon signs of storefronts. Ruger led her to a shiny black Harley. She couldn’t make out the model in the dark, but the long fork told her it was custom. She circled the bike for a moment, taking it in. She’d always thought you could tell a lot about a man from his bike. It was well cared for—custom but not flashy. This was a good sign. The chopper fork was longer than standard, but not one of those ten-foot-long jobs that screamed LOOK AT ME.

“Well, what do you think?” Ruger asked. She glanced at him and found he was watching her with one brow lifted. “Did she pass inspection?”

“She passes.”

“Tell me what you see.” He tilted his head to one side as he watched her.

She told him her thoughts then ended with, “It tells me you’re confident, secure in your place, not only in the club, but in the world.” She met his gaze and waited for his reaction.

He nodded then picked up his helmet off the seat. “Here, I only have the one with me, so you wear it.” He held it out toward her.

“Trusting to leave it unsecured.” She took it and slipped it over her head, fastening and fitting it with practiced ease.

“No one would touch it here. People know who we are and not to mess with our shit.” He swung one leg over the bike. “So where do you live?”

She gave him the address and waited while he kicked the bike to life. When he was ready, she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. He pulled out onto the street, and she was glad her borrowed helmet didn’t have a facemask. The wind on her face and the rumble of the bike between her legs made all her troubles slide from her mind. What replaced them were thoughts of the thickly muscled thighs her own were wrapped around and the taut stomach beneath her hands.

* * *

As they moved through the city, the bike roaring down streets and rumbling content at traffic lights, Krissi caught hints of the scent of leather, soap, and a warm musk that made heat build low in her belly. In less than twenty minutes, Ruger pulled into the parking area in front of her apartment. It was faster than taking the bus, but she knew it would be. She would like a car but didn’t have the money for one.

Right now, Krissi was saving every extra penny she could to cover her tuition and books until she earned her degree. She really shouldn’t have spent the money at the bar yesterday, much less stopped again today, but she’d needed a break. And today’s drink hadn’t cost her anything but a tip. She didn’t often indulge, so once in a while wasn’t a huge expense. Now, climbing off the back of Ruger’s bike, she was glad she’d spent the money. She hesitated to invite him inside while she changed but didn’t want to be rude.

He seemed to sense her hesitation. “Why don’t you go change? I’ll wait here.”

“You sure?” she asked, pulling off the helmet.

“Go.” He smiled. “Just don’t leave me waiting too long.”

She handed him the helmet then headed toward the stairs at the end of the building, taking them two at a time. From the walkway at the top, she waved at him before unlocking her door and ducking inside. The apartment was a tiny studio, but it was cheap and all she needed. In the small closet, she grabbed her favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and her boots. Not bothering with the bathroom, she changed right there, tossing her uniform over a nearby chair then pulling a leather jacket from a hanger near the back of the closet. It was a little warm for the jacket but wouldn’t be once they were moving. Plus, leather was good protection should something happen.

Krissi hadn’t worn the jacket since she’d gotten to Tucson. She hadn’t wanted to. Now, though, it was perfect, no matter the memories attached. She’d make new memories—better ones.

Shrugging into the coat, she tucked her ID, some cash, and her keys into the inside pocket and headed back outside. She’d been inside less than five minutes. Locking the door on her way out, she turned and looked down at where she’d left Ruger. He sat sideways on the bike, looking comfortable and relaxed. Krissi froze for several seconds, just staring down at him. Several strands of hair had blown loose in the wind, and they made her want to see it all down. Her hands ached to run through it and see if it was as soft as it looked. His long legs stretched in front of him, crossing at the ankles as he looked around, noticing everything that moved. As if sensing her eyes on him, Ruger looked up at where she stood. Her heart skipped a beat, and she started moving again. Krissi wondered for a moment if he was going to be pissed she’d taken so long, like her father or any of his men would be. She went to the steps and hurried down. Krissi couldn’t wait to get back on the bike and on the road.

Ruger turned as she stepped off the stairs and watched her as she walked toward him. She saw his eyes skim down her body then back up again, and her heart felt like it was going to jump out of her chest and hop away, but it didn’t. Krissi fought the urge to giggle like an idiot, biting the inside of her lip to keep her mouth shut.

“Oh, you changed everything. That was fast. It’s also a lot better for a ride.” He handed her the helmet and climbed back onto the bike while she settled it onto her head and tightened the chinstrap. Ruger’s eyes skimmed her again. “You might want to close the jacket.” He kick-started the bike.

Krissi looked down and thought about zipping the coat, but decided Ruger would block the worst of what was coming from the front and left it. Ruger jerked his head, letting her know he was ready for her to get on. Once she was seated, he walked the bike back out of the parking space, and they roared from the lot.