I drop a kiss on her forehead, leaving a red stain behind. “Be good, okay?”
“M’kay!” She wraps her little arms around me for a quick hug.
“See ya next year, kiddo.”
Her features crumple into a stricken mess. “No! That’s super far away.”
“It’s tomorrow,” I assure her. “That’s just a phrase people use. It’s supposed to be funny.”
“Oh! ‘Cause it’s the end of the year.” Her smile reignites. “I get it.”
“Smart cookie.” I boop the end of her nose.
She takes that as a sign to swoop down the bridge of mine, ending with a tap to my chin. Warmth injects into my icy veins and I almost repeat the motions. It’s such a foreign comfort to be loved.
“Did you give Daddy a clue?”
My grin is still caught in the clouds. “For what?”
“Your hiding spot,” she giggles.
That snaps me out of it and I straighten. “Nope.”
“How will he find you?”
If all goes well, he won’t. But that’s not what she wants to hear. Adrenaline floods through me. My heart is suddenly racing too hard. It’s probably visible through my tight shirt. The clock on the wall ticks loudly to mock me.
“Whose side are you on, hmm? Don’t you want me to win?”
Ronnie shoos me toward the hallway. “Better hurry or Daddy’s gonna get you.”
A collection of water stains on the ceiling captures my attention while I fight a losing battle against sheer boredom. It’s been a struggle since I arrived at Inn Kahoots. What I expected was a lost sense of nostalgia. The reality is much more bleak.
My lack of interest gives the packed biker bar another glance for old time’s sake. That’s what’s kept me here this long. The dingy atmosphere is my scene. These are my scrappy people. But it feels stale and flat.
Honestly, the only bright spots are the rhinestones stuck on me. I got more than a few curious looks, but my reputation is louder than the unfamiliar sparkle. A few still needed a reminder. The dumbass who tried his luck by smacking my ass is still nursing his sprained wrist at the opposite end of the rail.
“We’re planning to ride all the way to Montana without stopping,” the shaggy dude beside me drones on, tugging my focus from the damage above.
“Thrilling,” I murmur absently.
“The rally will be sick. You should join us.”
“I’ll think about it.” Which is code for giving less than half a shit.
“Cool.” He bobs his head loosely, feeling the alcohol and heavy beat pounding through the speakers. “Want another?”
My spirit is exhausted from feigning enthusiasm. I’m not even sure what he’s talking about. That forces me to actually look at him. It doesn’t do him any favors.
Rather than a rugged cowboy with a dirty mouth, there’s a threadbare biker who could use a shower. A defeated sigh emphasizes the letdown. Another follows when I catch his beady stare bouncing between my drained glass and my rack.
“Sure,” I mutter. “Why not.”
He flags down the bartender and then returns his focus to my tits. “Tough day?”
I can’t muster enough energy to shrug. “Not really.”
His grunt is drowned by a sip of Bud Light. “Then what’s with the long face?”