Page 4 of Tracked By Sasquatch

She smirked. “Um, barf after rum?” She made a gagging sound that was kinda endearing and also kinda gross.

“Maybe bastards are, um, robust.”

Devin scrunched up her nose and laughed. It drew attention to the smattering of freckles she had there. She was even more attractive when she was like that, just in the moment and laughing, than when she got all dolled up to go out with the ol’ ladies.

“Robust? Really. That’s the word you came up with? I mean,” she looked him up and down. “If the size twelve boots fit…” She gave him a look.

Squatch reached for the door, eating up the snarky smile she gave him.

“Perhaps beer and rock?” she guessed before striding in like she owned the place.

The smell of stale smoke and old beer was overwhelming. His boots stuck to the floor with each step. Some old school honky tonk tune played through some tinny sounding speakers. A couple of obvious rocket scientists shot pool on a table that had more dents and holes in the felt than there was felt.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Calling this place a dive bar is an insult to dive bars.”

His eye caught on something above the meager row of alcohol behind the bar. “What the fuck? S’that a mangy-looking stuffed raccoon in a Bears snapback cap?”

She turned that dazzling smile on him again. “That?” She pointed. “That’s Ditka.”

Devin said it like she knew the raccoon personally. She’d only been with the club full time for a while and that damn thing had clearly been dead for decades if the layer of dust on it was any indication.

“Bears and raccoon. That could be it.” She said with a wink.

And how the hell did she know⁠—

His thought was cut off when she waltzed around the bar and gave the bartender a hug. He, in turn picked her up in a bear hug that caused an unexpected surge of jealousy to rise within him from out of nowhere.

“Hey, Dev. Lookin’ good, chica.” The soon-to-be dead fuck drawled in what sounded like a Deep South accent as he set her back on her feet, looking her up and down.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Scott.”

Scott’s hands still lingered on her before pulling her back in and tucking her against his side. Sasquatch was supposed to be the one there to comfort her, he’d already decided it earlier.

But then a thought hit him from out of left field, it might be a bit more than just wanting to be there for her while Hook and Croon weren’t. Maybe it was beyond simply being a good brotherly-like person for her to turn to, because in that moment he hated Scott.

Of course, he wasn’t ready to dissect and rip into those musings there in the bar, Scott, well, that was another story. Ripping into him sounded like a splendid idea.

He shoved the thought of Devin as anything more than a good friend aside, but as he tried to, it hit a wall. A wall that sounded an awful lot like his Aunt Phoebe in his head.

Her and those damn tarot cards. The last reading she’d done for him, the Star card showed up. She’d gone on about him being healed ready to attract a meaningful type of love. Phoebe had said paired with the other cards, which he couldn’t remember what they were, meant she was closer than he’d expect, right next to him possibly.

The thought wouldn’t shake loose… could it possibly be Devin?

DEVIN

Sasquatch thumped his fist on the bar causing both her and Scott to jump. When she looked up, her eyes clashed with stony-brown ones. He was not in a good mood all of a sudden, but why? They’d just been laughing together.

“Oh, Scott, this is my friend, um, Jasper.” At the same time, he said, “Sasquatch.”

So much for no colors. If the road name Sasquatch didn’t scream big bad biker boy, then his tree trunk biceps and dark brooding aura would. The man was the epitome of what Hollywood portrayed bikers as.

“Yeah, sooo, Sasquatch, this is Scott.”

Scott’s eyes went wide and he leaned on the bar. “Well, Jasper Sasquatch, can I get you a drink?” Devin just rolled her eyes. Scott was a shameless flirt with anyone and everyone. He was comfortable with who he was in a way that left her in awe but made her a little jealous. He embraced life and himself, that was what she wanted for herself.

Hell, isn’t that what everyone wanted?

Scott wasn’t perfect, he’d confided in her of some pretty dark things he’d done in his life, but he moved on instead of repeatedly kicking himself for them.