twisting away. He shouldered his way past Tank. “Call the sheriff. Get him down here to pick these two assholes up.”
By the time he reached his bike at the top of the hill again, much of his fury had melted away. He no longer felt he might lose complete control and bash the fucker’s brains in. No man was worth his freedom.
Seconds later, Rio reached the top. As he approached, Dixon met his stare. “Don’t fucking say it, man. I know. I shouldn’t have unloaded on him like that,” Dixon said.
“It was a fair fight. Any of us would have done the same. Stop apologizin’.” Rio pulled out his phone and placed a call to the sheriff. Then he grabbed a handful of zip-ties from his saddlebag and carried them down the trail. Dixon didn’t follow to see that the two men were bound hand and foot for the sheriff to collect. He had faith his men would handle it.
Instead, he hopped on his bike. As he took the turns to town and the Painted Pig, he touched his cheekbone. He didn’t find it cut, thank God. Showing up to see Fiona sporting a cut from a guy’s ring wasn’t the impression he wanted to give and only prove she knew guys like him.
He tried the door and found it open. Surprise flitted through him, followed with a wallop of irritation that she’d take such risks with her safety. The Mayhem might have left her bar alone for a few days, but rumors claimed they were making rounds outside the city limits, hitting up every joint from here to the Smokies. In a matter of time, they’d return and when they did, he didn’t want her cornered.
He walked in and caught the scent of flowers.
He let the door close behind him and wandered through the darkened bar, following his nose to the kitchen. Fiona stood at the stove facing away from him.
Christ, just looking at the woman had his blood burning to take her in his arms and show her how good he could make her feel. That hard squeeze of his heart told him there was more to it than lust.
She stirred something in a big pot…and hummed.
“You really ought to lock your door.”
She whirled, long-handled wooden spoon in hand like a weapon. She saw him and the glare in her eyes deepened.
“I wouldn’t need to lock my doors if guys like you didn’t think you own the damn town and can barge in.”
He held her stare. God, the woman gripped his guts and twisted. Did she have any fucking clue? No, she didn’t—not yet.
Slowly, he stepped up to her. “What are you cooking?”
“I’m not cooking anything. I’m making soap.”
His eyes widened. A glance into the pot revealed a clear liquid with small purple bits floating in it—the source of the flowery smell.
Standing so close to her, all those feelings that lingered in the depths of his mind from that kiss flooded in. Dammit, he wanted to know more about this woman. Wanted to put smiles on her face and see her skin glowing when the dawn’s rays crept over her…and all that honey-blonde hair rumpled from his loving.
His chest burned and his cock was already hard and aching, only from one look at her.
“What the hell happened to your cheek?”
He hadn’t looked into a mirror, but he figured a bruise rose on his flesh. “Got hit by a branch while ridin’.”
She narrowed her green eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know if I’m lying.” He hovered over her, drinking in everything about the sultry woman. He liked her tough exterior, but seeing that soft vulnerable look in her eyes when she looked at his cheek lifted something entirely different to the surface, as far as emotions went.
She sighed. “I know a fighter when I see one.”
He figured he’d get further with honesty. “My guys and I came across some of the Mayhem members selling drugs to some kids down at the trail head.”
With a gasp, she braced a hand on her hip as if prepared to singlehandedly take on the bikers and drive them out of town herself.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Wish I was. Sheriff should be hauling them to jail right now.” He moved in closer. “Tell me about this soap.”
She looked into the pot as if remembering her task. “It’s a hobby.”
“What kind of soap is it?”
She pointed to the tray of hardened bars off