Page 5 of Tracked By Sasquatch

That was the part she was most envious of, his ability to forgive and move on, even himself.

“Two beers,” Sasquatch ordered. When Scott plopped them on the scarred surface, Squatch picked them up then turned to Devin. “Come.”

Again, she rolled her eyes. At the rate she was doing that, they were going to actually stick like that, just as her first-grade teacher, Mrs. Letson, said they would.

“Just a sec.”

She turned her focus back to Scott. “How’s Ray?”

“He’s good, chica. Been a good week. As a matter of fact, he should come stomping through those doors any second, especially when he catches the scent of tall, dark, and broody over there. You know how some people have gaydar? Well, Pops has bikerdar.”

Devin suppressed a laugh. “Ray’s stomping days are long behind him.” She paused. “You used good twice. Did he really have a good week or a not so bad one?”

“No, I mean good. I think the new pain management and therapy are working. Of course, he refuses to admit that some ‘modern day mumbo jumbo’ is actually to credit.” He air-quoted the four words and took on a gruff effect to his voice like Ray’s.

A wave of guilt washed over her, threatening to pull her under. Ray reminded her of someone she’d left behind.

“You better go join Bigfoot over there before he cracks a molar.” She followed Scott’s gaze and saw Squatch sitting at a table in the corner with his jaw clenched and white knuckling the brown bottle.

“He really is a good looking man, do you think he’s stick straight or could he bend a little?” Scott asked wistfully as he wiped down the bar.

“Sorry, but I don’t think he’s flexible.”

“Huh.” He sighed disappointedly. “More’s the pity. But that just means I’m not standing in the way of you riding that man like you’re in an old western and getting run out of town by Wyatt Earp.”

Scott chuckled.

“Instead, I think maybe I’ll shoot my shot with the cougar down there at the end of the bar drinking Chardonnay.”

Scott nodded toward the far right to an older woman Devin hadn’t noticed when she’d come in.

She watched as Scott reached into an underbar cooler and filled a wineglass from a cheap box hidden there.

When she gave him a pointed look, he whisper-snarked, “What? You didn’t think Pops would actually buy a bottle of wine for this place, did ya? I grabbed this at the grocery store just in case, and who knows, it might pay off yet.”

Scott sauntered down to the bar and slid the glass across the wooden surface and proceeded to shamelessly flirt up the lady who had a good twenty years on him.

Devin diverted her attention back to the man sitting at the table with two beers. There was a cloud of smoke hovering by the ceiling giving him a dangerous appearance as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Devin hadn’t looked at Squatch as anything other than the club enforcer, her brother’s brother. Since Lucas had patched it. Since Lucas had patched in. If she were being honest with herself, she’d crushed on him once upon a time, but that was just wistful thinking.

Honestly, she’d never looked at anyone deeper than surface level since she’d been in Utah, including friends. Scott was the exception, but he wasn’t club adjacent nor did he know her family, so he was safe… easy.

Looking deeper meant getting invested, and she didn’t deserve the kind of relationships that the Royal Bastards offered.

Devin and Harmon were becoming closer since she’d moved in with her. Plus, she’d also spent time with the ol’ ladies and members, but she couldn’t tell you much about them that wasn’t public knowledge.

Surface shit, like music they listened to and what their favorite foods were. Those things that could be discovered by simply spending time around someone, not with them.

Hook was the closest friend inside the club she had, and he was also kinda the exception. However, in his case, what she knew about him, she’d already known before her latest poor choice in men.

That disaster had resulted in her forced emotionally exploitive indentured servitude for lack of a better description. The shame threatened to swallow her whole.

Devin shrugged those thoughts off. She couldn’t go down that road. Not yet. Not in Utah. Some demons required a more personalized exorcism.

The thought that when she left, she wasn’t leaving behind deep connections made her sad. She was connected, but most of it was a one-way street. She’d kept herself apart because she just didn’t like herself all that much and refused anyone the opportunity to see that.

Tomorrow.