“Scotch, neat. At least fifteen-year.”
The bartender rolled his eyes. “Really? Where do you think you are, man?”
“I don’t know. A bar.” He’d been in plenty of shit-ass places, but he’d hoped for some civilization here in the States.
“This is my grandfather’s bar. He’s still living in the Wild West. I can get you whiskey or tequila or crap-ass vodka or beer. We have two wines. Red or white and they both suck ass. Those are your choices,” the bartender said.
Bishop sighed. It didn’t matter. He needed liquor. A lot of it. Maybe he would forget just how hard his cock was. He could still feel Nell’s arms around him. He could still feel her breasts pressed against his chest, her hips moving against his. Damn it. “Vodka. Double on the rocks.”
James Bond didn’t have these problems. Everywhere the fucker went there was a good bar, but that wasn’t Bishop’s life. He was stuck with shit-ass bars. He should have been born British. American assets got shit. The least he should get for his trouble was a decent drink.
The least he should get as his reward was a soft, sweet, innocent woman to take his cock any way he chose.
The redhead across from him looked up. She had a pretty face, and he could see a nice rack and it didn’t do a thing for him because she wasn’t Nell. That freaking woman had wrecked his goddamn vacation.
“Here you go.” The bartender slid a glass his way. At least it seemed clean. His head gestured toward the back of the bar. “She’s a nice lady, you know.”
Bishop shrugged and took a sip. Yep. It was low-grade, cheap vodka. “She’s pretty.”
“She just got divorced a while back. Apparently it was a nasty thing. She’s still trying to find her footing. She doesn’t need some asshole tourist to use her.”
Bishop stared at the bartender. “What’s your name?”
He frowned. “Sawyer. My granddad owns the place, so if you think you can get my ass fired, think again. I work for free, and I don’t like assholes using nice women. Holly’s a nice woman. She needs someone to look out for her.”
Bishop felt a smile cross his face. “Good for you. As it happens, I’m not terribly interested. I have my eye on someone else in town.”
Sawyer crossed his arms over his big chest and leaned back. “I’m trying to figure out who the hell that could be. Harper’s sister is too young. Stella’s a little too old for you. Red back there’s just about right.”
Bishop had no idea who any of those women were. “I just got in today. I’ve only been out to Mountain and Valley.”
Sawyer’s eyes went wide. He snorted. “You a nudist?”
“Nah. I have a friend out there.”
“Okay. I can buy that. Look, I live out on the reservation, but I have some friends around Bliss. It’s a nice town. The women are cool.”
He couldn’t help himself. He had to ask. “What do you know about Nell Finn?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop by ten degrees. Sawyer’s face hardened and his eyes seemed darker than before. “I know she’s a sweet lady, and I wouldn’t like to see her hurt by some tourist who just blew through town and used her. She’s a believer, you know?”
He frowned. “No. What do you mean?”
Sawyer sighed. “She believes in all that good shit. She really thinks she can change the world. Look, I’ve met plenty of people who say they can change things, but Nell believes. She’s one of those people who gives it her all and it matters to her. She’s the kind of chick who might actually manage it.”
Bishop huffed. Had the guy been drinking his own product? “Seriously? You’re wearing an outlaw MC cut. You believe in that shit?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I live in a different world. I got no options to escape. Nell is an idealist. She thinks there are always options.”
“She’s a dreamer.”
“Dreamers can change the world. Look, man, I’m not that guy, but I also know the world. Sixty years ago, black people couldn’t vote and now we have a black senator running for president. It was people like Nell who did that so don’t underestimate her. And don’t you dare fucking use her. She sounds naïve, but what she says is important.”
He was serious. And maybe Bishop should be serious, too. He still had a job to do. Just because he’d bailed on her physically didn’t mean he wouldn’t find out who wanted to hurt her. “Has she dated much?”
Sawyer stopped. “No. I kind of thought she wasn’t all that interested.”
Oh, she was interested. She just needed the right man. “So there’s no man in her life.”
She’d been flustered. It was easier to pay attention to men who didn’t matter. She was a submissive who hadn’t been trained to please her Dom. She didn’t have a Dom. She’d likely never had a Dom so she didn’t understand that a Dom could take care of her and accept all that sweet love she had to give.
He’d gotten pissed off and walked out too soon. Why had he done that? He was patient. It was his hallmark. He was known for making careful decisions and then plotting out his next move. But he’d taken one look at Nell with that goddamn deputy and he’d walked out because he’d gotten his freaking feelings hurt. Seriously? When had he grown a vagina?
He’d made a mistake.
“Look, I only know Nell because she comes out to the rez and helps out,” Sawyer explained. “We have a lot of poverty and need out there, and she puts in a bunch of time. She’s kind of made herself a part of the family. I wouldn’t like it if she got hurt. She doesn’t have a man looking out for her.”
That didn’t seem to be her problem. The deputy seemed to care, and those two boys had been all over her. But she wasn’t sleeping with any of them. Sex was important. Sex could be the glue that bound people together. A woman would listen to a lover when she wouldn’t listen to a friend or family member. No matter how many well-meaning friends she had, Nell couldn’t really count on a man unless he was in her bed and taking responsibility.
What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t someone she should rely on. He wasn’t going to be here in a few weeks. He was exactly the kind of lover she should avoid.
The redhead across from him took another long drink. She looked over as though trying to gather her courage.
“That one is going to be so much trouble.” Sawyer’s jaw firmed. “I wish I hadn’t come in tonight. I’m trying to stay out of jail.”
“Then you shouldn’t be prospecting for an MC.” Bishop watched the woman. She was going to be trouble. She was a lovely woman without a man, and she was obviously emotional. The sharks were already starting to circle. A nasty-looking asshole with a mean tat on his arm started making his way over, a leer on his face. “You going to take care of this?”
Sawyer sighed. “If I have to. My granddad is going to have my ass if I start a fight. You don’t understand how mean an old Ute can be when his shit gets trashed. He always threatens to go old school with the honey and the ants. My childhood bedtime stories were really horrible.”
Bishop couldn’t help but smile. He could imagine. The redhead pushed off the bar, obviously making a decision. She was on the move before her insanely large and muscular and very likely criminal suitor made his way over. She rounded the bar and made a beeline for someone in particular.