killing him with the dirty all-about-fucking lyrics as he ran his eyes down the length of Eva’s scantily clad body. Possessive fury surge through his body. What. The. Fuck.
“Who’s the redhead?” Alek asked over the noise.
“The biker’s sister.”
“Surprised he left her out here on her own,” Quan said from his other side.
“She’s married.” He watched Eva move around the small table and leaned in to say something in Nika’s ear—
A steamy shot of desire blew his brains out. Oh, maaan. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, raising his eyes to the ceiling as he fought for control.
Her dress.
Her dress had no back. From nape to tailbone, fragile ribs to fragile ribs, she was completely bared for all to see.
He didn’t like that. Jesus Christ, he did not like that.
“Boys,” Jak greeted as he joined them at the bar. “A car met up with her just before the bridge and tailed her all the way in. Took off when she joined with the smokin’ redhead. Who the fuck is that?” He gave Nika a long look and whistled appreciatively.
The news of the tail didn’t sit well with Gabriel. “She’s married, so put it away. Did you get a look at the driver?”
“Couldn’t without revealing myself or losing her, so no. I’ll run the plates in a second.”
“What’s your guess?” Gabriel asked. “Another of Stefano’s guys or the PI?” He’d prefer the latter at this point. At least the private investigator wouldn’t be a danger to her. Unlike the others.
“PI for sure. The guy had a few clear stretches where he could’ve nudged her off the road but didn’t.”
Shit. Regardless who’d been in the car, Stefano was closing in.
And so were the three guys standing not far away eyeing the girls, no doubt plotting how to maneuver to their table.
Jealousy was new to Gabriel. Unfamiliar. Fucking sucked, to be honest, because he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Should he act on it, get it out of his system?
He pictured smashing a couple of heads together.
His mouth turned down and he nodded slightly. That would feel good.
Or should he ignore it? Wait for it to pass. Allow the trio—who now looked as though they were arguing over who would get which girl—to make their play and get shot down. Let nature take its course.
He snatched up his fresh Stoli and swallowed it whole. “She’s mine,” he growled as he slammed his empty glass on the bar top…just as a break came in the music.
Alek, Quan, and Jak stilled, tossing questioning looks in his direction. They’d heard his statement, and he couldn’t fault their reaction. It was an astounding claim coming from him.
Jak eventually nodded as if it wasn’t news.
Quan did the sign of the cross before kissing his three fingers and sending them skyward, as though offering a prayer of thanks.
“No.” That was the only explanation he offered as he watched Eva remove the clip from her hair so that the mass could fall down her back in the darkest of waves. Better.
Jak slapped the bar with an open palm. “I’m heading out before the jealous tears come. I’ll be available again at oh-six-hundred, boys. See ya.”
Once Jak was gone, Alek turned back to Gabriel. “What’s this about, G? Fucking her? Or something more.”
Gabriel clenched his jaw and cursed his big fuckin’ mouth. “I’m not talking about this with you, brother.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“That’s it? ‘Because’? You sound like Vincente.”
“Nah. If I’d been trying to sound like V, I’d have added a fuck-off in there somewhere.”
“True. You’re lucky my uncle loves you the way he does.” Alek leaned his back on the bar. “Imagine if this was Maks or V. We’d be finding body parts in the most unexpected of places. You know that, right?”
Gabriel nodded but didn’t say anything as memories surfaced. He, Alek, and Vincente had met in middle school. They’d all grown up in the life; Alek under Vasily, Gabriel under the Moretti boss, Vincente under a Moretti lieutenant. But Alek’s was the only home they’d gravitated toward. Because that’s where they found the love and acceptance they should have received from their own families.
Vasily Tarasov. He’d been the draw. With his seemingly casual advice and let-me-give-you-a-hint way of communicating, the Tarasov Pakhan had helped shape Gabriel and his boys into the men they were today. He’d brought Maks into the fold when Gabriel, Alek, and V were juniors in high school, bringing the detached giant back with him from Russia. To this