Chapter Two

Whiskey Nelson wiped down the gleaming mahogany bar top as he kept an eye on the group in the corner. His family's business, Nelson's Honkytonk Saloon and Bar, was usually a relatively calm place. Well, as calm as a bar on the edge of town could be, but tonight, he had that feeling. The one where the back of his neck itched, and he knew he'd be dealing with something.

He glanced at their whiteboard. 5 Days since we've booted an asshole from the saloon. He had no doubt they'd be changing it back to zero tonight. Heck, he couldn't remember the last time they'd made it longer than six days. They had a great clientele, but sometimes, things started to get out of hand.

The group of men at the table he was watching didn't have a clue they were getting ready to mess with the wrong group of women. Although they were all connected to the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC, his brother Hennessy had given the women their own moniker. The Bluff Creek Beauties. Whiskey had to agree they were all beautiful, tough, and fierce. Tonight, Beth Franks had brought the newer women to the MC out for an evening at the bar. Whiskey had set them up in his largest corner booth on the raised level. It provided the women a three hundred sixty-degree view around them. No one was playing pool in the area behind the booth, so the women were focused on their own table and the table of men who seemed to be looking for trouble tonight. Beth, as the youngest daughter of Franks and Daughters Bail Bonds, could take care of the table of men all by herself. Locks, her dad and an original in the MC, made sure his daughters could not only run his family's bail bonds company but could do it well.

Scoop's mom, Stella, was the oldest of the group, but even in her fifties, Stella was drawing attention. Scoop had joined the MC in the last year and ran tech for them. Stella's daughters, Tasha and Rose, were along tonight too. He didn't know them as well. Just that Rose had left her job at a police department in the Dallas area after an incident and Tasha, her twin, had left her nursing job at the same time. Ellie was the next to newest addition to their group. She'd left a job in law enforcement to join Franks and Daughters Bail Bonds and their security company. He saw Beth signal Rose and Ellie. Although he had no problem with the women taking out the trash, Beth tended to use a chair to make her point and he'd just replaced the one she broke a couple weeks ago.

He placed his hand on the bar and catapulted over, landing smoothly. He, his brothers, and his cousins had all learned how as soon as they were tall enough. They'd even had competitions to see who could do it the smoothest and fastest. Seconds counted in keeping people safe. He clocked Hennessy and Crewe converging on the groups. His brother and cousin were the managers along with him and were all here tonight because they'd been doing some planning.

He watched the dumbass who'd be getting his ass handed to him tonight smack Tasha's ass as she stood. Well, fuck. He, Crewe, and Hennessy were now on clean up duty because the Bluff Creek Beauties were about to kick some ass and honestly, the guy deserved it.

Rose and Beth didn't waste any time showing the man the error of his ways. Beth slapped him across the face, then as he recovered from the slap, Rose smacked him on the other cheek.

"Do you like someone smacking your skin without your okay?" Beth questioned.

"What the fuck, bitches?! I was just letting her know she had a juicy ass. It was an appreciation slap."

Whiskey waded in. "Well, we don't allow any type of unwanted touching, no matter how appreciative you are. You're banned from the bar. Get up and Hennessy will escort you out."

"I'm not fuckin' leaving. I'm going to teach these bitches a lesson." He punctuated his sentence by grabbing Beth's hair and pulling her closer. "You hear me, bitch?"

Whiskey leaned back and waited because if the dumbass wanted a beating, the women were going to oblige him. Beth would never have let him grab her hair unless she wanted him to pull her closer. He was really glad that Crewe had pushed for the sealed cement floors when they'd redone the bar. Cleaning up blood and other bodily fluids was so much easier now. Though he hoped the fluids didn't splash because the booth seats were still fabric. Some type of non-cloth fabric was on his list of upgrades someday.

"I hear you." Beth kneed the guy in the nuts and Whiskey winced. The asshole deserved it, but man, that had to hurt. When he bent over, she slammed his face into her knee. Ouch! That was going to leave a mark he thought as he heard the crunch of bone. He knew this guy wouldn't be pressing charges. They had cameras in the bar, and he'd already been asked to leave.

The other men started to stand. "Nope, unless you all want me to let these women kick your asses, I suggest you all take your friend and leave. You make sure your friend doesn't go complaining to the police. I recognize you all. You don't want a visit from my family." Whiskey motioned around at the men who'd joined him, his younger brother Schaefer, along with three more of his cousins, Halligan, Gaines, and McClure. They were all over six foot and had perfected the menacing stare. Having their own place to work out helped and they all stayed in shape. Halligan, Gaines, and McClure had their arms crossed, quietly waiting to be needed. Heck, Halligan by himself should scare the guys because his arms were as thick as tree trunks.

Crewe had probably sent a text when he saw it going south. "And you especially don't want me letting the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC know that you all disrespected their family."

He held back a laugh at the wet spot forming on the guy's pants. The guy was a bully until he realized he didn't have the biggest balls in the room. Heck, Beth obviously had him beat in that area. He jerked his thumb toward the door. "Go."

Crewe, along with Halligan and Schaefer, escorted the men out and Hennessy was over high-fiving the women. McClure had headed toward the bar to grab drinks for the women and change the sign back to zero. His brothers and cousins had it all under control.

He glanced at his watch. Whiskey was dropping his motorcycle off at the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC garage tonight. Hennessy was driving a truck and following behind Whiskey. They had a visiting brother who was doing custom gas tanks and Whiskey had snagged a spot. He wasn't happy giving up his motorcycle for a week because he rode almost every day as long as the weather allowed.

He waved goodbye to Crewe and walked over to drag Hennessy away from the women.

"Ladies, we're out of here. As always, it's an adventure with all of you."

"Bye. Thanks for letting us deal with them. I was getting a little bored." Beth dusted her fingers against her shoulder, emphasizing her words.

Hennessy turned to go. "Oh c'mon. We're here and you're not going to say it to us?" Stella whined.

"Good night, beautiful. May your dreams be as sweet as you are."

Giggles and groans accompanied Hennessy's deep voice. Hennessy had such an easy way with the women that sometimes Whiskey was a tad jealous. Hennessy's wishing women good morning and good night had become a thing at the bar. Women dropped in when they were having bad days just to hear him say it. Hennessy even had one woman that called the bar when her shift at the hospital didn't go well. He'd wish her good night before she went to sleep.

Whiskey waved as he and Hennessy went out the door. Any trouble that happened was now someone else's responsibility. He grabbed his helmet and straddled his bike, slipping his helmet on while waiting for Hennessy to walk to his truck. Once Hennessy had it started, Whiskey waved and pulled out.

He enjoyed being one with the road. No sounds unless he listened to music. He could be alone with his thoughts. Tonight he wanted quiet. He wanted, no, craved more than his dad and uncles had. Sure, they had successful businesses and sons, but they didn't have that woman who set their heart on fire.

Seeing the amazing women from Bluff Creek had him wishing for what he didn't have. Wouldn't life be easier if he could find a good woman? But like that was going to happen, and he only had himself to blame.

He was the one whose feelings had been hurt by a woman and had proposed the stupid freaking game after they'd all had too much to drink. Nelson's Dating Roulette was the stupidest thing he'd ever come up with and he regretted opening his mouth every freaking day. But every time he brought up maybe it was time to stop the game, his cousins and brothers called him a quitter, big baby, and chicken until he gave in. He might be forty-three, but peer pressure was alive and well in the Nelson family.

Heck, he was in last place because he had only gone on two dates. Having his family spin a wheel to find out what type of woman you have to date next and then finding said woman was more trouble than it was worth. And some of the crazy examples Hennessy had added made it even harder. Where the hell was he supposed to find a woman who performed in the circus or knew historical battles? Yeah, like that comes up in casual conversations.

He'd become increasingly dissatisfied with just dating. Watching some of his friends find the women who completed them had him jealous. Heck, even his grumpy friend Bear, who was the VP of the MC, had found someone who made him smile. In the back of his mind, he always wondered if his family was cursed with regard to women. His dad, along with his two brothers, each had three sons by three different women. Nine women and none of them had stayed together or married. Not that Whiskey considered himself much of a prize.

At forty-three, he was set in his ways. He managed the bar with the help of his brother Hennessy as assistant manager and his cousin Crewe, who managed the kitchen. They all three lived in the large apartment they'd all grown up in above the bar. He worked, he read, which was one of his favorite pastimes whether it was non-fiction war novels or fiction thrillers, rode his motorcycle, and he enjoyed hunting deer and pheasant. He also enjoyed his family's football games. They became a little rough because everyone wanted to win, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

The only women he met came to the bar, or he'd grown up with them. Over the years, no one had given him the illusive feeling of needing her for the rest of his life. He hoped it wasn't too late for him because he wanted someone to grow old with. His dad and uncles seemed happy with their lives, but they still went home alone most nights.

Whiskey loved his family and wouldn't change having his brothers and cousins so close, but he wanted more. He just wasn't sure how to find it and if he would recognize it when it happened.

Whiskey hadn't believed in someone meant especially for him, but as his friends had found their women, his attitude had changed. He also wanted kids. Growing up with his brothers and cousins made him long for his own family. They'd all gotten in scrapes over the years, but he wouldn't change a thing. Well, maybe he'd change when Dillon had knocked the bees' nest down on all of them, but otherwise, he'd had a great life.

Spending time with the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC had given him insight into young kids, and he loved what he'd seen. He imagined teaching them sports and helping them find where their passions led. His dad and uncles hadn't ever forced them to take over the businesses. They'd exposed each of the boys to different aspects and let them choose where they wanted to be.

Whiskey enjoyed running the bar and providing a place where people could unwind. He excelled at making people feel at home. He was good at building rapport. He, Hennessy, and Crewe all worked well together. Dillon, Quinton, and McClure ran the trucking company and the rental properties. Halligan and Gaines ran anything to do with their oil properties. Schaefer enjoyed working alone, so he ran security for all their businesses. He'd rather deal with his computers than an actual person. Whiskey appreciated his family allowing them to choose their own path.

Whiskey kept an eye on the fields as he passed them. Growing up in Kansas near the country, he'd damaged more than one vehicle by hitting a deer. He'd also lost a windshield when a flock of pheasants had flown across a highway he was driving on. Whiskey crested the hill and spotted what appeared to be headlights off in the ditch. He raised his hand, signaling Hennessy he was pulling over. He pulled over onto the edge but made sure his bike was firmly on the asphalt still. He didn't relish picking up his bike after it tipped over if he tried to balance it on the soft shoulder. Hennessy pulled behind him and got out. Whiskey noticed the deer who'd most likely caused the accident hadn't made it through the encounter unscathed either.

Whiskey walked carefully but quickly down the ditch because the headlights belonged to a crashed sedan. He headed toward the driver's side while Hennessy went to the passenger side.

His first glimpse inside the vehicle had him pulling his phone out. "Just a second, ma'am, and I'll get EMS out here."

She turned toward his voice. Her green eyes snared him at her first glance. "No. No police. No EMS. I'm okay."

She obviously didn't realize she might be hurt. Her head had a red mark from the airbags deploying. Coming closer, he clocked she was heavily pregnant. He needed to call EMS.

"Ma'am, I don't think you realize you might be hurt. I'm going to call for an ambulance." He crouched down close to her car door, placing his hand on the opened window.

Her hand grasped onto his fingers. "No. No EMS. No police. We can't chance my name ending up on a police report."

He pushed away the way her hand on his made him feel to deal with later. Right now, he needed to help her.

He leaned closer to the window. No name on a police report had him paying more attention. "Are you running from something?"

Her deep green eyes pleaded with him to agree to her wishes. "Yes. I can't have my name anywhere."

He looked at her and considered what he was willing to do. Nodding his head, he made a decision. If he could get her door open and see that she looked okay, then he would take her back to the bar. The young boy in the back seat was answering Hennessy's questions and seemed okay. Maybe Stella could stay and check her out.

"Okay, let me see if I can get your door open. Hennessy, any issues?"

Hennessy shook his head. "Nope, kid says he's okay."

Whiskey reached in and unlocked the door, then pulled on the handle. It held for a little bit then creaked open. He opened the door wide and catalogued. The big sedan's front end had major damage, but these old things were built to last. The passenger area of the vehicle was intact and didn't appear as if it had taken damage. The woman had already deflated the air bag. Her blue shirt was stretched tight over her rounded stomach, but there looked to be an inch between her stomach and the steering wheel. He had zero experience with pregnant women, but he'd helped out on security issues for the bail bonds with a couple women who'd been pregnant. He'd feel safer if they called EMS, but it sounded like that was a no-go. Maybe Stella could examine her and tell them if she needed to go to a hospital.

"Ma'am, my name is Whiskey. My brother over there is Hennessy. I'll give in on the EMS if you'd be willing to let our friend, who is a nurse, take a look at you when we get home."

Her stare had him feeling as if she was seeing into his soul. Her teeth nibbled the side of her lip while she considered his request. He couldn't imagine how scary it was for her, but if someone was after her, the quicker they got her off the side of the road, the better.

"My name's Onessa and I'll agree. We have three bags and this cooler."

He nodded to Hennessy. Hennessy would take care of the items from the car. "Okay, I'm going to lift you out and carry you to the truck. Let me know if anything hurts or aches."

He leaned into the car, sliding his arm behind her back and one underneath her legs. He lifted her out as slowly as possible, then settled her against his chest. Her arm slipped around his neck. Her shoulder-length brown hair caught in his beard.

"I can walk. I'm too heavy."

Whiskey took a deep breath of her light feminine scent, relishing the feel of her in his arms even though she was probably someone else's. She was gorgeous and definitely not too heavy in his arms. She was just right.

"Where are you taking my mom?" The kid had gotten out of the car and was walking quickly toward him.

"My brother and I are going to take you and your mom back to our house where it's safe and then a friend of ours, who is a nurse, will check you guys out. If you're hungry, we live above my family's bar. My cousin Crewe makes the best French fries and hamburgers or if you don't like that, he can make you something else. Can you open the back door of the cab, and we'll get you and your mom situated? I'm Whiskey. What should I call you?"

Whiskey placed his feet carefully going back up the side of the ditch. He didn't want to lose his balance and hurt his precious cargo. He waited to see if the boy would answer him. If he had to describe the kid, he'd use wary, like he was ready to take a hit or run at a second's notice.

As they got to the truck, the boy opened the back door. He could feel how tense Onessa was in his arms. He settled her in the back seat, closing the door. He walked around and opened the door for the boy.

The kid's hair was black and cut short and looking a little tousled after the wreck. Whiskey fought the urge to run his fingers through it and straighten it. The kid seemed to be one second away from shattering as tight as his shoulders were. The kid's laser focus scanned Whiskey. After taking a big breath, he stuck out his hand. "I'm Ambrose."

Whiskey shook his hand. "Good to meet you. Now let's get you and your mom safe. We'll load my motorcycle, then get back on the road."

Whiskey went to his bike while his brother loaded the rest of the items and opened the tailgate, sliding the motorcycle ramps down out of the back. Whiskey wasn't sure what he was feeling about Onessa and her son, but he didn't have time to examine it right now. They needed to get loaded up and on the road.