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He picked up the bottle she’d brought. “Thanks.”
The man exuded the kind of quiet competence that came from long hours watching bad men do bad things.
And that was when it clicked.
Not a biker. Not a drifter.
Law enforcement.
Maybe undercover. Maybe federal.
Fuck. That complicated things.
“Well now,” a voice drawled. “Ain’t this a sight.”
Felicity didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
The guy who’d shouted earlier.
Boots stopped beside the table. “Pete’s favorite cop slumming it with a stranger.” He snorted. “That don’t seem right.”
“We’re busy, pal. Buzz off.”
The man laughed, thick with whiskey. “Aw, come on now, sweetheart.” He planted one hand on the table and leaned closer, sour breath riding the air between them. His hand drifted toward her shoulder. “You can do better than this quiet—”
Her hand shot up, catching his wrist mid-reach. The chair’s legs scraped loudly as she stood. A sharp twist, a quick step to the side, and suddenly his balance wasn’t where he thought it was.
One controlled pivot and she had his arm behind his back.
The drunk’s mouth opened in surprise as his knees bent under the pressure. “What the— hey—!”
“Easy,” Felicity said calmly, tightening the hold just a fraction.
The bar quieted a notch.
“Your friend’s had enough,” she told the room mildly. “Someone want to collect him before he hurts himself?”
A couple of bikers at the nearby table exchanged looks.
One of them pushed back his chair with a sigh. “Fuck it, Carl. Making trouble with the badge.”
The biker grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, man.”
Felicity released the wrist, and Carl stumbled back, rubbing his arm and glaring, but the fight had leaked out of him. His buddy hauled him away with muttered apologies to Pete.
The bar noise swelled back to life.
“Sorry about that.” Felicity sat down again and took another drink.
Across from her, the man finally spoke. “No apology needed. Watching a competent woman handle her business is rather … riveting.”
She could work with that. “Wanna blow this joint?”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work.” He took a slow drink. “My wife would have a problem with that.”
Her hand stilled halfway to her mouth. “Of course you’re married.”
“You’re a fine-looking woman. Can’t be hard for you to find company. Why come to a dive like this?”
