5. Gage

Chapter 5

Gage

I watch her walk away. She’s all fire and pissed off and I’m checking out the sway of her ass as she goes. Shaking my head, I tell myself, This is Roxy . Quit looking at her like that, you fool.

I know her well enough to know I’ve pissed her off by saying the wrong thing. I let my emotions get the best of me and went at her like a bull. But there’s nothing I can think to say to fix it because I meant what I said.

I walk toward the bar and take a seat on one of the high stools. “The usual?” Cat asks me.

Nodding my head at her, I turn in my seat and watch as Roxy works on the other end. I start looking at the men that all seem to be vying for her attention, trying to figure out which one could be the father.

Cat sets the beer down in front of me. She’s sort of like Roxy’s best friend now, ever since Roxy helped her one night when she was having problems with Saint. “Do you know who the father is or have any ideas on who it could be?”

She had been about to walk away but turns back to me with her head tilted sideways, staring at me like she’s looking for something. “I had sort of hoped it was you.”

My grip on the beer mug tightens. There’s a flash across my mind of Roxy on top of me and my hands gripping her waist. Almost as soon as it’s there it’s gone. My imagination has been going wild lately and it has everything to do with Roxy. My cock lengthens down the leg of my pants and I start counting. No way do I need to have a hard-on while I’m sitting here talking to Cat. Saint may be my brother, but he’d whoop my old ass in a minute. Through gritted teeth, I shake my head. “No, it’s not me. I don’t know why you would think that.”

Unaware of the undercurrents, she laughs. “Yeah, right. The way you two are so hot for each other, I mean everyone knows it. Y’all just need to give in to it.”

Shocked, I look down the bar and catch Roxy’s eyes. They’re guarded but I can still see the heat in them. Does she really feel something for me?

I let go of the beer and put both hands on the bar top. “No, you’re wrong. I’m old enough to be her father.”

Cat looks down at all the men on Roxy’s side of the bar and lifts her shoulders. “I dunno. Roxy hasn’t talked about anyone to me. But look at all of them. She usually has a group of men watching her as she works. I think you’re asking the wrong question, Gage.”

I jut my chin at her. “Okay, what’s the right question?”

“Who wouldn’t want to be with Roxy?” she says to me before walking over to take an order from some out-of-towners.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks and I shoot a glance down the bar. The whole idea that Roxy is pregnant and any number of these men I’m staring daggers at could be the dad hits me right in the chest. I know Roxy, though, and I know she doesn’t sleep around. Whoever the father is, it has to be someone she cares about. She never lets anyone close.

I remember last night when Randy made a big to-do of saying bye to Roxy when we were leaving. Could he be the father?

I look for him, but he’s not standing at the bar. I turn to the room and scan the tables and the pool tables, finally spotting him on the dance floor holding some woman in his arms. I want to go and demand to know if he’s the father or not. But I know Roxy wouldn’t appreciate that. I’ve already upset her and made her mad, so me going around the room and demanding to know who the father is won’t go over well with her. No, she’d probably never talk to me again. Plus, I know she wouldn’t appreciate the fact that I’m the one telling her business. She may not even want people to know she’s pregnant.

I sit and drink my beer, watching. I figure if I sit here long enough, I’ll see something. I lean my back against the bar so I’m facing the crowd, looking out at all the faces. There’s a bunch of regulars but there’s also a bunch I’ve never seen before too. With the bike rally in town, it’s understandable. We’re the closest bar and business always picks up during these things. The events bring out weekend warriors, independents, citizens and one percenters alike. As I watch more people coming in, I can’t help but feel on edge. These events usually bring out a brawl or two. I’ve always worried about Roxy anyway during these things, but now even more so. She’s pregnant; this is no place for her. Especially knowing how handsy some of these guys are.

I had planned on going into town, but maybe I’ll just stay right here. Keep an eye out for Roxy. I catch her scent as she walks by me and I inhale deeply before shaking my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve made it my mission to keep Roxy at arm’s length, to treat her like a family member, but lately all I can do is think things that I definitely shouldn’t be thinking of her. She flips her hair as she walks past me, answering my question that yes, she’s still mad at me.

That’s fine as fuck. She can be as mad as she wants. I’m still going to sit here. I’m still going to make sure nothing gets out of hand. I’m still going to make sure she’s safe. But the one thing I’m not going to do is think thoughts that I shouldn’t be thinking. Like her lips on mine. Or her hands on me. I definitely won’t be thinking about my hands gripping her waist. Damn. I adjust myself in my jeans. I can’t even get her off my mind.

As she walks by me, I see men staring at her and I want to fight them all. I turn my back on them and lean over the bar top, thankful that she works behind the bar instead of waitressing the tables. If she did, I know I wouldn’t make it through the night without my fist connecting with someone’s face. Man, I’m fucked.