Temper (Knights of Fury #3) - Chantal Fernando

Prologue

Five Years Ago

“Can I have a whiskey, please?” the brown-eyed behemoth of a man asks, studying me with a little too much intensity for my liking. He’s wearing a black cut over more black clothing, and he smells good, like leather with a hint of cologne. “You have pretty eyes.”

“Thank you,” I reply, ducking my head. My eyes were always a source of insecurity for me growing up, with them being quite bright and amber in color. To say I was teased about them was an understatement. At school they used to call me a cat and say I was possessed. I don’t care what people think about me anymore, a confidence I think comes with age, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t get embarrassed when someone says something about them.

“What’s your name?” he asks, never moving his eyes from me.

“Abbie.”

“I’m Temper,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, Tommy.”

“How many people call you Tommy?” I find myself asking, trying to hide my smile. I’ve heard all of the bikers that pass through use road names for each other. I don’t know how many of them actually go by their real names, but it’s nice that he offered it to me. I can only imagine why they call him Temper, and if that isn’t warning to stay away from this man, I don’t know what is.

“Uhh.” He tilts his head back, actually considering the answer to my question. “None.”

I laugh softly and slide him his drink. “Okay, Temper it is.”

Suddenly feeling shy, I start to wipe down the counter while his friend returns from the bathroom and sits down next to him. “You didn’t order me a drink?” he asks Temper, unimpressed.

“Sorry, Prez, got a little distracted,” Temper replies, sounding amused.

Prez looks at me. “Hey, sweetheart, could I get a beer, please?”

“Sure,” I say, grabbing the first bottle I can reach from the fridge. “Is this one okay?”

He nods. “Perfect.”

Setting the beer in front of him, he throws some money on the table and smiles. “Thank you.”

My mother always warned me about the bikers passing through the bar, and while I have had bad vibes from other bikers in the past, I don’t get any from these two. But what do I know? I’m twenty-three and have never even left Nevada. I’m the stereotypical small-town girl, something I always thought I’d never end up being. Our bar is off the major interstate that is one of the only ways to get to Vegas from Southern California and vice versa. Because of our location, we see just about every type of person—truckers, families, young people and bikers.

“What time do you finish work?” Temper asks me as he stands to leave. “Can I take you out for dinner? Or coffee, or something?”

I shake my head, taken aback by his request. “No, I don’t think so. But thank you for asking me.”

He’s older than me; I know that much. If I had to guess, I would say he’s in his midthirties, which is maybe why I’m so surprised by the fact that he asked me out. If I’m being honest, while I am attracted to him, the age difference freaks me out a bit. I’ve been stuck here pretty much my whole life—I wouldn’t know what to talk to him about. I’d probably bore him to death. Also, I’m flattered, but I don’t think going out with a man by the name of Temper would be a good idea.

“Okay.” He nods, brown eyes flashing with disappointment before he masks it. “Have a good night, Abbie.”

“You too, Temper,” I respond, our gazes holding and lingering for longer than necessary.

Flashing him a smile, I head back into the kitchen to hide, pushing away a slither of regret that hits me out of nowhere. Yeah, he’s good looking, but so what? There’s plenty of good-looking men out there.

I’ve never been on a proper date before, and my first one isn’t going to be with a man like that.

Chapter One

Present Day

“That man keeps staring at you,” Sierra says under her breath,