Dixon (Dark Falcons #1) - Em Petrova Page 0,2
and Tank settled on the stool next to them. Dixon looked around at the dark walls bearing various alcohol signs and logos. A rowdy laugh exploded from the rear of the place, and he noted the guys surrounding the pool table.
He’d found the owners of all those bikes. He stared at them for a moment, taking in particulars that most normal citizens probably didn’t—such as how many there were, their positions, and who looked most likely to stir up shit.
He glanced back to the bar, where a woman stood in front of him, waiting for his order. He let his gaze work over her honey-blonde hair, tanned, bare shoulders in her Painted Pig tank top and tight-fitting jeans. At her waist, she wore a leather belt with more than its fair share of turquoise and silver.
“What can I get ya?” she drawled out.
His mind went right to that disrespectful place. But he didn’t say any of the things going through his mind.
Offering her a crooked smile, he said, “Johnnie Walker. And a Crown for my friend.”
“Comin’ up.” She didn’t stick around for small-talk. Instead, she whirled away and poured two shots in record time. She set them on the bar top. “That’s two-fifty each.”
Surprise flitted through Dixon. “You want paid right now, or can we see if we want to drink another?”
She held out her palm. “Pay now. I can’t trust everyone to pay for what they drink in this town.” She cut a glance toward the rear of the room.
“I got it. Thanks, sugar.” Tank slapped some bills on the bar top.
The blonde settled a hard glare at him. “Not your sugar.” She scooped up the money and pocketed it before moving off.
“Damn, she’s tough.” Dixon raised his glass to his lips. The scent of whiskey flooded his senses, taking him to his last drinking spree. He and Dax and some other guys kicked back after a mission, glad to be fucking alive.
Soon after that, Waylan took a bullet, Dax went missing believed dead…and Dixon got his leg blown up. Three months in the vets’ hospital and two surgeries later, he could walk at least, but the scar was ugly.
What did he care about scars when he had all his limbs?
He rubbed a hand down his thigh where the muscle puckered the most. Another raucous laugh boomed through the room, and a petite brunette rushed out of the group of bikers like a chopper flying out of a fire cloud.
She slammed down her tray on the bar and whipped off her apron. “That’s it! I can’t take this anymore, Fiona! I quit!”
The blonde bartender turned to her, eyes burning with anger and jaw locked. “Wait, Cassie. You can’t quit on me. You’re the last waitress I’ve got!”
“I don’t care. Those assholes are disrespectful and can’t keep their hands to themselves. The tall dude with the big beard grabbed my ass!”
Tank and Dixon exchanged a look. Tank’s expression warned, Don’t do it, man.
Even though the urge burned strong, Dixon anchored himself to the stool. He didn’t return to Mersey to make trouble. He came back to figure out his fucking life, and it damn well wasn’t fighting. He’d seen enough of that for a lifetime.
The waitress started to walk away, and the blonde launched over the bar top like she performed the move every day. She landed in front of the brunette. “Cassie, don’t go. Please. I’ll give you a raise. And a bonus too if you stay tonight. I can’t run this bar without employees.”
Cassie threw a look at the rear of the room. Some of the bikers were watching her, laughing and sneering at some joke. Dixon curled his fingers around his glass and tried to find his calm.
Another laugh sounded, and he couldn’t stop his head from turning. He stared at the women. “You want me to handle them?”
The blonde whipped around, fist on hip, eyes narrowed. “No, Mr. Tough Guy, I do not want you to handle them! I don’t need any more bar fights. Just drink your damn whiskey and leave the running of this bar to me.”
As he twisted around to face forward, his lips jerked upward at the corner. Tank chuckled and knocked back his shot.
“That’ll teach ya for opening your mouth, Dix.”
“Lesson learned.” They shared a laugh, but he kept tabs on the bartender and how she begged the waitress not to quit. In the end, the brunette stayed with the promise of this being her last night, and the blonde agreed