Page 2 of Raging Fires

“I guess a thoracic surgeon probably doesn’t play much football.”

“No. Might hurt his hands.”

There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. Kelli knew he’d never gotten along well with his father. No reason they would; they were pretty much opposites; his father was all about cold logic, organization, and fancy education, and Jake was a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants guy who’d never wanted to do anything but play football.

Kelli didn’t know what to say—she was no longer the person who soothed his hurts—and an awkward silence fell. It was a welcome distraction when there was a crash in the kitchen, followed by the sound of metal rolling around on the floor.

“There’s somebody else here?” Jake looked over at the door to the kitchen.

Before she could reply, the door swung open and a heavyset man in biker gear stuck his head out. “Sorry, Kelli, I knocked over a stack of bowls, but they were all metal, so no damage.” He eyes went to Jake, and he opened the door farther and stepped out, looking suspiciously at Jake. “You having any problem out here?”

“No, I’m fine. This is Pops’ grandson, Jake. Jake, this is Tiny.”

“Of course it is,” Jake murmured, but he did that chin-tilting thing that guys did when they were too far away to bump fists and said, “Hey, how you doing?”

“I’m sorry about your granddad,” Tiny told him. “Pops was a great guy.”

“Yeah, he was. Thanks.” Tiny nodded and popped back into the kitchen. Jake turned to Kelli. “Your cook’s a biker?”

“No.” Kelli smiled, glad that they’d gotten past the uncomfortable silence. “He’s just one of our customers, and he started helping out sometimes, and now he’s a bouncer. It helps a lot to have one of the bikers handling disputes.”

Jake’s raised an eyebrow and said, “When did the Blue become a biker bar?”

“It didn’t happen all of a sudden. The neighborhood’s changed some over the years. And two years ago, Pops booked this heavy metal band here one Saturday.” She nodded toward the small stage at one end of the room. “Turns out a lot of bikers like heavy metal.”

“Pops hired a heavy metal band?” That brought both his eyebrows up this time.

Kelli grinned, remembering. “I don’t think Pops realized it was heavy metal; it had some weird name that could have been anything. The lead singer stopped in here and Pops liked him—he called him ‘that nice kid with all the hardware in his face.’ Pops agreed to give his band a shot, and it was the best night the bar had had in a long time. There was such a big crowd that Pops kept bringing that band back, and gradually we had more music like that and more bikers came to hear them, and...” She shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt that a really good mechanic shop is down the street a couple of blocks.”

“But you aren’t—” He frowned. “I mean, isn’t it kind of dangerous for you to work here?”

“I’m fine. We have Tiny, and sometimes one of the linemen at ASU. I don’t know how tough they are, but they sure look imposing. And we have strict rules. No fights, no weapons, no colors. They start a fight or whatever, they’re banned for six months. Do it again, and they’re permanently out.”

“Good to know. I thought maybe I was going to have to throw down with your boyfriend there. Figured I was faster, but he’s got me on size.”

Kelli rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. Tiny is not my type.”

“I know.”

There was a gleam in his eye, a very familiar gleam, and Kelli felt a very familiar quiver inside. Irritated, she turned away and, just to have something to do, she picked up a mug and went to the tap. “You want a beer?”

There was a little silence, and when she glanced over at him in question, the gleam was gone. “I’m shocked you offered me a beer,” Jake said, trying for lightness but landing on resentment. “Given the way you always bitched at me about it.”

Kelli set the half-filled mug down on the bar with a thud. “I didn’t object to you drinking a beer, Jake. What I didn’t like was you going out with your ‘posse’ and getting wasted when you had a game to play the next day. It was unprofessional and it affected your play, and you were cheating your fans and your team.”

“Ah, yes.” His mouth twisted. “Always worried about the team. Have to keep that salary coming in.”

Anger surged in Kelli. She felt like climbing over the bar and smacking him. “Don’t!” She jabbed her index finger at him to punctuate her words. “Don’t you dare accuse me of being a gold-digger. It was never about the money, Jake, and you know it. I didn’t care about whatever million-dollar contract you signed. I never asked for the jewelry or the fancy car or any of those things you bought me, and you might have noticed that I left all that stuff behind when we split up. I didn’t take a cent from you in the divorce. What I cared about was you. But you sure took care of that, didn’t you?” Kelli realized too late the hurt she’d revealed with that last statement.

But fortunately Jake sailed past that with his usual lack of emotional awareness and jumped up, his eyes hot with temper. “Yeah, and why the hell didn’t you ask for anything in the divorce? What were you trying to do, make me feel guilty? Or just show everyone what a saint you are? How bad I am? Whatever it was, it was pretty goddamn dumb of you.”

“First you say I was after your money, and then you say I was stupid not to wring all I could from you in the divorce. Make up your mind. Which am I? Greedy or stupid?”

“Can I pick ‘all of the above?’”

“Get out of here, Jake.” She grabbed the mug and poured the beer down the sink. “I was hoping we might be able to be civil to one another, at least until Pops is in the ground. But clearly we can’t. Just stay away from me.”

Chapter Three