Prodigal Son Read online

  I flipped through the binder in the office — yes, the freakin’ hotel room had an office — and found a listing of restaurants nearby. I was in the mood for a beer — okay, more than one — and I decided on the Falling Rock Taphouse, which looked to have good food and a huge selection of craft beer on tap. I knew the place was likely to be busy on a Saturday night, but I’d never had trouble striking up a conversation with strangers, and I thought it might do me some good to get outside my own head for a few hours.

  Chapter 2

  Krystal

  Saturday, May 4, 2013 - Denver, Colorado

  I looked down the bar at the Falling Rock Taphouse, and I was finally satisfied with everything. Even though I’d come in a few minutes before my five o’clock shift, it had still taken an hour to get the bar in order for a busy Saturday night. I looked up to see the manager coming my way.

  “Hey, Mark, you got a minute?” I called out as he headed up toward the front door.

  He walked over and faced me across the bar. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, I know I’m new here, and I don’t want to cause problems, but this bar was in lousy shape when I came in.”

  I liked Mark so far. He was thoughtful and seemed to be a fair, stand-up guy.

  “We weren’t very busy at lunch. There’s no reason that you shouldn’t have walked in to find everything ready to go. I’ll talk to Sam when I see him next week. Won’t happen again.”

  I was surprised. After all the years I’d spent hanging out with the Savage Sons, I wasn’t used to people — especially men — paying any attention to what I said. Moses had been the only one who’d ever talked to me like I was a real person and not just a piece of ass. And Moses was gone. God, did I miss him.

  “Thanks, Mark,” I said as he waved and headed to the front, always on the move.

  I looked over the dinner specials menu while I thought about my new gig. I’d been just heartbroken when Moses had died, and I’d thought all kinds of crazy things in the week that I’d spent in my pajamas staring at the television. Bug had been pissed that I was so upset about Moses, but he’d always made everything a competition between the two of them — or he would have if Moses had given a shit.

  I’d thought that Bug would be happy that I didn’t work for Moses anymore, but when I’d finally cleaned myself up and headed out to look for another job, Bug had found something wrong with every single one of them. I was glad he and I hadn’t moved in together yet, because he was starting to really grind my gears. It was like he wanted me around just to wait on him hand and foot — be his fuckin’ arm candy, but I knew better than to be dependent on him. I’d wanted to move up to an old lady, but I was starting to think that it wasn’t gonna be worth it to be Bug’s old lady. I’d be better off being handed around the Savage Sons or even getting out of the MC scene altogether. But I knew that if I left, I’d always miss the leather, the bikes, the tattoos, and the sexy men of the Savage Sons.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with myself, but I thought that getting a job at the Taphouse was a good start toward something better. A couple of good-looking young guys walked toward the bar. Something better indeed, I thought, as I set a couple of cocktail napkins in front of them.

  Business started picking up, and by eight o’clock, I had a nearly full bar. I waved Mark over on his next fly-by and asked him to keep an eye on things so that I could run to the ladies’ room. As I washed my hands, I checked myself out in the mirror, and I was pretty pleased with what I saw. I’d had to tone down the rough edges for the bar, and I had been surprised to discover that I liked the less skanky look.

  I wore my favorite Falling Rock ladies’ t-shirt —the one that was the exact same blue as my eyes and had a low v-neck. My favorite jeans were pretty low rise, and I knew that my lower back tattoo was visible every time I bent over or reached for a glass overhead. There were a lot of shitty tramp stamps in the world, but the one Moses had done freehand on my lower back was a work of art. The lines were graceful and followed the lines of my body beautifully. I checked to make sure the little bit of makeup I wore looked okay, and I applied some fresh lipgloss. Certain that I looked pretty good, I hurried back to my bar.

  “Thanks, Mark,” I said as I scanned the bar to make sure no one needed a drink right that second. I had just started to unload the dishwasher full of pint glasses when I looked up to check out the new arrival.

  Wow. My view had definitely improved. The man that walked toward the bar was tall — nearly as tall as Moses, probably about 6’3”, I guessed. He was blond, which wasn’t usually my thing, but good grief, was he perfect. His hair was short, but not in a pretty boy preppy way, and the golden stubble along his sexy, strong jaw looked like he belonged in some outdoorsy catalogue. I hoped that he wasn’t about to be joined by his supermodel girlfriend, and I decided at that instant that I would play it cool, but I was determined to chat him up a little.

  “Evening,” I said as I tossed a napkin in front of him.

  The guy turned to face me after he sat down on the last available stool in the bar, and his blue eyes nearly took my breath away.

  “What’s on tap?” he asked.

  I reached for the menu and set it on the bar, and he looked at it and laughed.

  “Didn’t realize I’d have to read a novel just to get a beer.”

  I could tell that he was being good-natured rather than genuinely irritated by the beer geek’s dream of a menu that I’d given him.

  “Whatcha in the mood for?” I asked with a smile.

  Was it my imagination, or did a flicker of interest in something other than beer cross his face?

  “Something local and hoppy,” he answered. “I’m in from Arizona, so I’d like to try something new.”

  I nodded and grabbed a couple of sample glasses, filling them and returning to place them in front of the gorgeous stranger.

  “This is Boulder Brewing’s Hazed and Infused, and here’s Oskar Blues Deviant Dale’s. Let me know what you think. Name’s Krystal.”

  I turned to walk the length of the bar, clearing empty pints and dishes and taking a couple of orders, looking forward to getting back to the sexy new face. While I scanned the bar, I realized just how much I was enjoying the new scene that my job provided. I was used to hanging out at the Sons’ clubhouse, and while it could be a lot of fun, I was starting to see the benefit of not having half-dressed hookers around while I was trying to catch a guy’s eye. I was also grateful for a break from Bug.

  Bug was becoming a problem, and I was afraid that I was going to have to find a way to break things off with him. I wasn’t sure how he was going to take the news.

  Bringing my focus back to the bar, I headed back to the blond stranger with a smile on my face.

  “What do you think?” I asked, pointing at the beer samples.

  “I like them both, but I’ll take a Hazed and Infused.”

  “You got it. Want a menu?”

  “Food any good?” he asked with a smile.

  “Absolutely. The tamales are great, and the burgers are all good.” One thing that I liked about Falling Rock was that they made us taste everything on the menu so we could talk about it with the customers.

  “Then yes, I’ll take a menu.”

  I brought him his beer and the menu and checked to make sure that the rest of the bar was content for the moment. I didn’t usually start conversations with customers, unless it was obvious that they were looking to talk, but this guy sure didn’t look like an average customer. I figured he was worth a shot.

  “So, you’re from Arizona?”

  “Yup,” he answered. “Flagstaff. Just got in this afternoon.”

  “Staying nearby?”

  The man looked a little embarrassed, and he actually blushed before he answered. “Yeah. I’m at the Ritz,” he answered.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Wow,” I said, surprised. He didn’t look like the filthy rich type, but I knew that the Ritz was an expensive joint.

 
“Yeah. I don’t normally stay in fancy places, but since…” he paused. “Well, let’s just say I decided to splurge for once.”

  “Well, welcome to Denver. Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll be back in a minute to get your dinner order.”

  The man opened the menu and I got caught up on the server orders that had come in while I’d been deciding if the man was worth full-on flirting with. I’d decided that he was. I filled pint glasses, mixed a couple of cosmos for the girls at the far end of the bar who were eying the stranger like he was dessert, and headed back to take his order. He decided on the tamales, and I was about to turn and put his order in, when he stopped me.

  “So are you from around here?” he asked.

  I couldn’t tell if he was really interested in me or if he was just uncomfortable being alone and trying to make small talk. Either way, I figured it was a good sign.

  I leaned on the bar in a way that I knew made the most of the low cut t-shirt I wore. “Born and raised in Denver.”

  “You like it here?” he asked.

  Even though I’d only been at Falling Rock for a few weeks, I’d already developed the good bartender’s sense of when they’re needed. “Hold that thought,” I said, regretfully. “Be right back.”

  I headed down to a group of guys about my age — mid-twenties -- and I took their order for half a dozen shots of Fireball. The cinnamon-flavored whiskey was one of our most popular shots, and I liked it because I didn’t have to mix anything. I measured the Fireball into a cocktail shaker, added some ice, and poured out four shots for the guys and two for the girls they were trying to pick up. The girls barely looked twenty-one, but I’d checked both of their IDs carefully. I hoped they’d be careful. The guys they were talking to looked like they could be trouble.

  I knew it was really none of my business, but I had seen so many girls in bad situations that I felt like I had to keep an eye out for young, innocent girls who might get into trouble before they realized what was happening. More than once, I’d sent one of the busboys or servers out to walk a girl to her car if I’d gotten a bad vibe from one of the guys at the bar. I didn’t want to see any more girls get hurt.

  Planning to keep a close eye on the group I’d just served shots to, I headed back to Mr. Gorgeous.

  “So do you like Denver?” he asked again when I got back to him.

  “I guess. I haven’t really been much of anywhere else.”

  The man looked a little surprised. “Really?”

  I figured that he had no idea that I didn’t have an extra dime to my name. “Yeah. I don’t really get to travel much.”

  He thought for a second. “Well, you’d be the perfect person to help me out, then. I’m going to be in town for a week or so, and I could use some recommendations for good restaurants.”

  I didn’t get to eat out very often. Goodness knows, Bug didn’t ever take me out. But I did know the hotspots from hearing other people talk about them.

  “I’ll be happy to give you some places.” I looked around. “Be right back.”

  A bartender’s work was never done, and I made another round of fresh drinks and to deliver some food that was ready. I set the plate of tamales in front of the man and decided to take a chance.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, as I gave him silverware and a napkin.

  “Luke,” he answered. “And that looks amazing.”

  “Well, enjoy, and I’ll be back to check on you in a minute.”

  Chapter 3

  Luke

  The tamales tasted like heaven. The filling was smoky, spicy chicken, and the green tomatillo sauce was tangy and blended perfectly with the sweet cornmeal. Just as I finished my beer, Krystal appeared in front of me to ask if I wanted another.

  What I wanted was to know if she was single. She didn’t have a ring on, but she was young — probably too young to be married. The one thing I knew for sure was that she was smoking hot. She had long, dark hair that she wore pulled back in a ponytail, a fringe of bangs framing her face. Her bright blue eyes make my stomach flip, and the glimpse of a tattoo I’d caught when she’d been making drinks made me want to see the whole tattoo — preferably with her naked. She was gorgeous. Amazing cleavage, perfect ass, and beautiful smile. I kinda liked Denver so far, and I realized that for a few minutes I hadn’t thought about my parents’ death or the prospect of tracking down my birth parents — people who may or may not be happy to see me.

  “Want to try something different?” Krystal asked, with a wide-eyed expression that made me wonder if she knew that I was thinking about her rather than another beer.

  “What do you suggest?”

  She turned around without a word and headed down to a tap at the far end of the bar.

  “Trinity Flo IPA from Colorado Springs. It’s new, and it’s great with the tamales,” she said with confidence.

  I took a sip, and she was right. The beer was aromatic and bitter, and it was the perfect complement to the sweet, spicy, smoky tamales.

  “Perfect,” I said after I’d tasted it. I checked up and down the bar to see if she needed to tend t o any other customers, but she seemed pretty caught up. “So what’s there to do in town besides drink beer and stare at pretty girls?”

  She smiled at me, and it looked for a second like she was blushing a little. I was surprised, because she seemed so sexy and confident.

  “Well, the Rockies get back into town in a day or so, and going to a baseball game’s always fun. We have some great restaurants in town, and some great trails if you’re the outdoorsy type.”

  Krystal seemed pretty friendly, and I decided to roll the dice.

  “Any chance I can talk you into going to a ball game with me?”

  She looked surprised. “Well, I’m gonna have to check my schedule and let you know,” she said with a wink before turning to pour a couple more beers for the server waiting at the end of the bar.

  She hadn’t said no. That was a start.

  I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until I polished off the last bite of the huge plate of tamales. I watched Krystal work, turned on by her fantastic body and the ease with which she managed the very busy bar. She took the time to talk to everyone there, giving them her undivided attention, even if it was just for a few minutes. The little glimpses of her lower back tattoo made my mouth water, and I wondered what the chances were that I would have a chance to see it all.

  “Another beer?” Krystal asked when she returned.

  “Absolutely. I’m not driving, and after the last week, I’m ready to drown my sorrows.”

  Krystal looked perplexed. “You don’t seem down in the dumps.”

  “I’m not gonna burden you with my sob story, but it’s been a rough week.”

  “Well, drink up, mister. I’ll keep ‘em coming until you tell me to stop.”

  It might have been the two beers, but a vision flashed in my head of Krystal naked in the enormous bathtub in my suite. I imagined water just barely covering her breasts until she stood up to lead me into the bedroom, water running off her body as she turned to reveal her perfect ass that was just begging me to grab it with both hands.

  Jesus, I had half a hard-on, and I hoped it wasn’t visible to anyone else at the bar. I had to find a way to distract myself from thoughts of Krystal naked. I decided to check out the other folks at the bar. I made the mistake of making eye contact with an older woman a couple of seats down from me. She had the look of a cougar on the prowl, and I wasn’t about to become her prey. I looked away quickly and started watching the group of six at the far end of the bar.

  They looked determined to get drunk, and the laughter and suggestive talk was loud enough that I could hear them from time to time. I wasn’t sure how the math was going to work out — with four guys and two girls — but I knew that at least some of the guys were getting lucky. One of the guys kinda hung on the edges of the group, and I realized that he was trying to get Krystal’s attention. She finally finished up an order of frou
-frou drinks for a couple of ladies, and she smiled as she appeared to ask for the guy’s order.

  He had a full beer in his hand, and he leaned across the bar to get closer to Krystal. She looked like she didn’t entirely trust the guy, and I thought she was smart to suspect his motives. I watched as she stood up straight, turned on her heel and walked away.

  “In your dreams,” she called out, clearly irritated.

  Shit. As gorgeous as she was, Krystal probably got hit on all night, every night, and she probably just thought I was another horny jerk who wanted to get in her pants. I mean, I did want to get in her pants, but I wasn’t gonna be an asshole about it.

  Krystal was shaking her head and laughing when she came back over.

  “Friend of yours?” I asked when she put another beer in front of me.

  “Hardly. I shouldn’t let guys like that get under my skin, but he was really rude.”

  “I won’t ask you what he said, but I’m hoping it doesn’t affect my chances of getting you to go to the ballgame with me.”

  “I have a mighty busy week ahead of me,” Krystal said, and I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or telling the truth. “I’ll have to let you know after I check my calendar.”

  “Well, I’m not heading anywhere anytime soon,” I said. “I’m enjoying both the view and the company.”

  I hoped she wouldn’t take my comment the wrong way, and as I watched her working, I realized that she hardly stood still for a second. I was betting that she was exhausted when she finished a shift and that she had a fat stack of cash from tips. I wondered how late she’d be working and if there was any chance I could talk her into having a drink with me later that evening.

  I figured I had nothing to lose.

  “So how late you working?” I asked the next time she ended up at my end of the bar.

  “We close at two, but my manager’s going to close up for me. I worked a double yesterday, and I’ll be over forty hours if I work until close tonight. I’ll probably finish up around midnight.”