her cheek and stopped before touching her. Clearing his throat, he said, "Give me two weeks, and this place will be a bar."
Her brows raised, and her eyes danced in amusement. "Sure, it will."
There might not be anything here at the moment, but with everyone in Tarkio lending a hand, he'd have enough tables and chairs lined up. If needed, he could order some kegs until he could line up a supplier for alcohol.
Beer and women. There wasn't much more a man needed for a good time and to lay down some money. Every Tarkio member knew how to throw a party. Everything else involved in running a business was paperwork.
"It'll take at least three weeks to get a liquor license." She turned in a circle, looking over the area. "Not to mention insurance."
"I can speed things through," he said.
It'd taken him two days to contact the owner of the warehouse and work out a deal to rent the place. He wasn't looking long-term. A year would give him time to calm Walker down and keep Faye close to his side.
If for somehow, the bar became profitable, he'd turn the business over to Tarkio or sell the outfit to someone else. He'd be happy to only have the V.P. position at the club, keeping him busy.
"Of course, you're a Tarkio member," she murmured, facing him. "I still don't think it's a good idea for us to work together."
"Why not?"
She tilted her head, gazing at him. "Because you can't stand to be around me."
"That's not true."
Her lips thinned, and she shrugged. "It is what it is, Curley."
He hooked her chin with his finger, raising her gaze. Deep down, she had to know how much he wanted her.
Her eyes flickered as if she couldn't make up her mind on which of his eyes to look at, or maybe she was fighting her own feelings. It was hard to tell how she felt.
He walked across the room, giving her space. "I'll pay you better than Lance does at Kingston Bar."
He needed her away from the other business. Tarkio wasn't welcome there. Men who called themselves bikers without a club hung out there and were known to cause trouble. More nights than not, the cops were called to settle everyone down.
He had no control over the atmosphere, and couldn't guarantee she'd be safe if she continued working for Lance. If she needed help, valuable minutes would get in-between her call and his arrival.
Understanding why Walker agreed to help her leave him if she stopped working at Kingston Bar, if she turned him down on the job—he'd lose her.
Faye had no idea what she'd gotten her and her friends into by working for Lance, and he wanted her somewhere safe. More importantly, he wanted her to feel like she had a choice on where she could work.
Hell, it was vital for her to choose working with him. He needed some kind of hope that she hadn't given up on him. As soon as he admitted his reasons to himself, he accepted that he was a selfish asshole.
"If we could make it work out between us..." He returned to her. "It would mean money coming in. You'd still have time to work in the nursery."
She rubbed her lips together. His gut tightened. There wasn't much she could do without him noticing. Even when she breathed, her body came alive. Her breasts rose and fell. Her lips parted. He dropped his gaze to her hand. She had a habit of twirling her thumb ring, round and round, when she was thinking.
"I don't know," she murmured, half turning away from him.
"It's a job. Work as many days as you need to bring in enough money to support yourself." He lit a cigarette, needing to calm down and stick to business. "I'll be busy getting this place up and running through all the problems that'll arise until we figure things out. You probably won't even see me."
"You'll be here. I'll see you."
He exhaled. "I'll be running the bar."
"What about your V.P. job?" Her brows lowered. "That's a full-time job. Why are you opening a bar?"
"Why were you waitressing topless?"
"Touche'," she whispered.
Curley gazed at her. "Eventually, the bar will belong to Tarkio. Some of the others who need a paying job can take over running the place."
"You've never managed a business." She looked at his chest. "And running a motorcycle club isn't the same. You're going to have to follow the rules, schedule deliveries, set up an account with a