Ridge: Great Wolves Motorcycle Romance Read online

  There were people around, but not a ton. Maybe that’s why one woman caught my eye. I mean she fucking probably caught all human eyes that were lucky enough to see her.

  Her thick dark hair was long and curling in the heat. She wore an almost too tight t-shirt that read “Kaminski’s” on the front. I had no idea what a Kaminski’s was. But she filled out the “a” and “s” like nobody’s business. Phew! I felt a tightening just looking at her walk.

  She had long strides, long legs, but also curves in my favorite places.

  I noticed she was clutching something tightly and walking with purpose. I saw her greet a few people as she went by, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  Which is why I saw it happen.

  As she walked between two vacant buildings, she disappeared. Well, disappeared wasn’t the right word. Someone or something I couldn’t see had pulled her violently out of sight and in between two of the brick buildings. She’d been yanked off her path and into the dark.

  I didn’t think. I just ran toward her. I didn’t have plan or any idea about what I was getting into, other than the fact that it was clear that she’d been grabbed.

  I got to the ally and slowed a bit. I needed to know what I was leaping into—oh, make no mistake I was leaping in—but it was smart to at least have an idea of if I was facing a mugger or a gang. Were they armed? Getting shot in the face was not going to help her.

  She was up against the brick wall and a man in a leather jacket, not too different from mine, was in her face with his knee between her legs.

  I had a moment of worry. Maybe I was interrupting something private? I slowed my steps.

  I listened to their conversation or whatever it was.

  “You’re late, and I’m fucking in the shit for that.”

  “Danny Doyle, you’re not getting this deposit.”

  “We don’t need the whole bag, but you’re getting me 15-percent. Now.”

  The dude in leather smashed closer to her, and I was ninety percent sure I was going to kill him and that it was going to happen in about ten seconds.

  I saw his rocker—it was the same one I wore—and my plan to kill this asshole moved from ninety percent to one hundred.

  Then her voice stopped me. It was low, defiant, and sure.

  “You’ve earned exactly zero. We’ve been robbed, vandalized, and our patron’s car window’s smashed. Get your hands off me.”

  She pushed, hard, and from the looks of it, kneed him in the crotch. She did it hard enough so that this Danny Doyle doubled over. The dark-haired woman didn’t hesitate. She broke free, and ran, right toward me.

  The man turned and lunged at her. She might have made better time and gotten away on her own, except she wasn’t on her own. I was there and she ran right into me. I pulled her to my side and kept her there. She wasn’t happy about this fact, but I was twice the size of the jackhole she’d just kneed.

  “Shit, another one,” she said as she sized up my cut. I didn’t know what that was about.

  The dick who’d cornered her was practically foaming at the mouth, but I had her now.

  “Give her over, she owes the club.”

  The club. My club. I had run straight into the Great Wolves Chicago Chapter! Or, at least, one dicky little member of it. It enraged me to think this asshole was preying on people while wearing the Great Wolves patch. I was livid and didn’t really notice that the brunette was squirming against me. And on that score, I did not mind actually, not in the slightest.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said it with the expectation that I would be obeyed, or I’d rip this guy’s head off.

  “Oh, uh, Ridge,” he said, looking at the name on my vest. “You’re going to hear from my club.”

  “Great Wolves don’t hurt pretty ladies like this. They help them. Now get out of here and makes sure the whole chapter is on alert. We’re meeting in an hour.”

  “Fuck man, who the—”

  I cut him off: “I’m the new Prez. Now move it.”

  The guy decided to argue with me later, apparently because he put his hands down and walked around us, without additional argument.

  “This is bullshit,” he said as he passed. I held the now statue-still woman close to my body when he got close.

  “One hour,” I called after him.

  “Listen, uh, whoever you are, I can handle myself and I do not need another gang banger stealing from me.”

  “I’m not here to steal, but I’m walking you back home, now.”

  “Really, uh, Ridge?” She too glanced down at my cut and jutted out a defiant chin in my direction.

  “Really.”

  “Well, I’m not going home. If I don’t get to the bank in the next five minutes, my life falls apart.”

  “Then let’s go. I’ll see to it you get there.”

  “Ugh, just don’t get in my way,” she said and wrenched herself free from me.

  “Deal.”

  “Oh, and thank you,” she said, with softer eyes.

  And I was fucking gone. Those eyes, light blue, flashing with intelligence and a bit of a challenge had me hooked. Her curves against me, for however briefly, well, let’s just say I was so into her shit. Whatever it was.

  “You’re welcome, lead the way.”

  “I have no idea what’s going on, honestly. What the hell?” she muttered to herself as I followed. I didn’t say a word. But I kept one eye out for trouble, and the other on her ass. Shit, that ass.

  Welcome to Stickney Forest, I guess. If all the women looked like her, I’d never leave, no matter how many Great Wolves I had to fight.

  Four

  Frankie

  I walked forward, like I wasn’t scared. Like I wasn’t bowled over by whatever the heck had just happened.

  I had not expected Danny Doyle. He was new to gang banging. He’d always been a jerk, always been looking for trouble, but that he’d found it so spectacularly was against type. He usually sucked at everything. That Crank now wanted to hang with Danny meant they were recruiting just about anyone into their net.

  Great Wolves were the source of a lot of drama in my hood and now they were multiplying. Wonderful.

  But then this mountain of a man, wearing the same damn patch—though it said “Grand City”—was acting like my personal bodyguard? What the hell was going on? And what was wrong with me that I found his whole thing, from leather to attitude, sexy as hell?

  Get a grip, Kaminski. This is the gang that wants to skim what little profits you have and do zero to earn it. I toughened up.

  “Keep up.” I walked faster; Ridge was big, maybe he’d be slow.

  No such luck.

  “I apologize for that asshole. Shaking down defenseless women isn’t our way.”

  “Defenseless? Don’t be so sure. And shaking down is what the Great Wolves do. Plus, they give nothing in return.”

  “Could you explain that?”

  His voice was low and raspy. I almost couldn’t hear it, except it went from my ear to my chest with strange precision.

  “Listen, I don’t know you, Ridge, and I don’t know where Grand City is, but here in the South Side the Great Wolves are asking for fifteen percent of my meager profits, and more like demanding it, as you saw. They don’t do shit to earn it.”

  “Did they promise protection?”

  “Yeah, I guess. That was what my Dziadzia was paying for.”

  “Jaja?”

  “My grandpa, he owns the bar, and he was scared shitless of the Wolves, so I took over. I’m not scared.”

  I was, but he didn’t need to know it.

  “I’m sorry about that too.”

  “My bar isn’t safe, the neighborhood isn’t safe, and your gang is no help. When I found out Dziadzia was paying, I stopped that shit, over two months ago.”

  We were almost to the bank.

  “Sounds like you did the right thing, except you shouldn’t be walking by yourself with cash.”

  “Really? Well, my valet was bus
y. What are you? An alien from another planet who’s unfamiliar with the customs of the South Side of Chicago?”

  I shook my head and went to open the bank door. Ridge beat me to it and opened for me. I swear the man was trying not to laugh.

  Great, I was comic relief for this sex beast. Perfect. Sex beast? Where the hell did that come from? I was actively trying not to notice how sexy he was, and boom, way to go, brain.

  “I’ll wait here.” He positioned himself by the door, like a sentinel.

  “Uh, despite my mouth…I owe you a thanks. So, thank you for helping me get free of Danny Darko, but you can go now and vanquish ill-mannered bikers throughout the land.” I hoped my smart mouth would give him the idea to scram.

  “I’ll wait here.” He raised an eyebrow at me, crossed his massive arms and stood, like an oak tree, by the bank’s door.

  “Fine.”

  I walked to the teller, Charlene Kapowski, a high school friend, and handed her the deposits.

  “What the holy sexy hell is that?” she said to me, not looking at the deposit bag or trying to unzip it.

  “Hello, Char? I need to make that deposit, so my payroll doesn’t bounce.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Wow though. I’ll say this for those Great Wolves, a handful of them are sex on wheels.”

  She wasn’t wrong, except that was a fifty-fifty proposition. Bikers were sexy, sure, but there was a crap ton of evil in that club, and I was sure that steering clear was the way to go. They were all a huge mistake on two wheels for a girl who didn’t want to get her heart crushed or her cash stolen.

  “This one’s new, I guess.”

  Char nodded and then fed the cash into her bill counter.

  “It should be one-thousand-forty-four.”

  It was a decent haul, but it would just cover my payroll and one bill.

  “Yep, here you go.”

  Char handed me the receipt. I looked it over, and at the account balance. Man, we were living deposit to deposit, and the slightest thing could tip us into bankruptcy.

  I hadn’t paid myself in over a year. I lived over the bar; we didn’t owe on the bar and I didn’t pay rent, so that was something at least. And Dziadzia’s house was paid too. It was the only way we weren’t starving to death.

  “Thanks, Char.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?”

  “Char? He’s only here because, uh, well, I don’t really know why he’s here.”

  I turned around and started to head to the bank.

  “Fine, introduce me on Polish Festival Night!” she called after me.

  The Polish Festival used to be a huge event in Stickney Forest. Who knew what was going to happen this year? The neighborhood was on the six-o’clock news every night for some new crime, not exactly good for business. And Polish Fest was less than two weeks away.

  I didn’t address Ridge. I tried not to look at him and walked out onto the sidewalk. He put his arm on my elbow and maneuvered me to the inside of the sidewalk, putting his body between me and traffic.

  “What are you?” I asked, truly perplexed by this man who’d appeared out of nowhere.

  “Ridge, I’m the new Prez of the Great Wolves.”

  “I wouldn’t be too proud of that.”

  “Yeah, it’s looking that way.”

  “Just because I was in a jam with Danny does not mean I’m an easy mark. You saw that bag of cash I had? It’s three night’s receipts and it’s chicken feed. Danny is an idiot. Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Danny’s out. That’s the least of the shit that’s going to happen to him.”

  The gentlemanly manners from this biker whatever he was were nowhere to be found with that statement. I was sure pain was coming for Danny.

  “I almost feel bad for him. Almost.”

  Danny had been asking for trouble his whole life. He’d always been a bully and now he had a gang of bullies to back him up.

  “Kaminski’s, that’s you?”

  “Yep, come on in. I’ll pour you one on the house since you provided protection, though I did not ask for help. Let’s be clear.”

  “You did not ask for help” he repeated with a glint in his eye.

  I got the feeling I was cracking this guy up. I wasn’t trying to, but my tough and his tough were of two different varieties and mine was amusing to his, it appeared.

  “Okay, since that’s established, welcome to Kaminski’s, the best Polish bar in Chicago.” I pushed open the door and he was treated to the bar in all its splendor, which was zero splendor on the splendor-o-meter.

  The regulars were in their usual positions: three at the bar, two booths of diners, and two tables. Otherwise, it was pretty empty. I hated that. It meant Terry and Sherry were going to do lousy when it came to the night’s tips.

  “Have a seat.”

  I pointed to barstool on the corner. Everyone in the place looked Ridge up and down. He was scary handsome and scary scary. It was a strange combination for a Tuesday night.

  I walked around behind the bar and slid past Kevin.

  “You’re good with the deposit?” he asked me, and I nodded.

  “Yeah, Danny tried to shake me down, but this one…well, I owe him a beer, I suppose.” Kevin looked over at Ridge.

  “Looks like more of the same. We’re serving Great Wolves now? Don’t tell the neighborhood watch meeting, you’ll get kicked out before you even get it going,” Kevin said. Ridge ignored him.

  “I’ll deal with that. He’s an out of town Great Wolf,” I, explained to Kevin.

  At this, Ridge did pipe up.

  “Different species of canine,” he said, and it was my turn to suppress a little amusement. I had no idea how could Ridge and I could be on the same wavelength, but there was a vibe. There was a definite vibe. Mother Mary, help me. I had plenty on my plate without getting hot and bothered over this man or any man, thank you very much.

  “What’ll you have? We have domestic or Polish, that’s it.”

  “I never had Polish, but I’m thinking I need to change that.”

  At this point, I blushed nine shades of Polish Falcon red.

  “Ah, okay. One cold Zywiecz coming up.”

  I turned and grabbed one out of the cooler under the bar. I was careful not to make eye contact with Ridge—hazel eye contact I noticed. Also, maybe I shouldn’t make jawline contact. His jawline was razor sharp and there was stubble. I imagined myself touching that stubble. I was not doing well at keeping my hormones in check. It might not be good to be within two feet of this man at all.

  “Frankie! I need you to decide on head count, now or there gonna be a glut of pierogi or not enough. This is above my paygrade!” It was Lamont, yelling from the kitchen.

  “Enjoy your beer, I need to deal with this. Lamont does not get worked up over nothing.”

  “Pierogi emergency got it.”

  I watched as Ridge took a swig of the Zywiecz. I did not want him to see how I was staring at his Adam’s apple, damn.

  I hustled to the kitchen and found Lamont with a whole lot of pierogi dough ready to hit the pan. Lamont had an associate degree in culinary arts from Kendall. I was doing everything I could to keep him from leaving my kitchen and working somewhere that wasn’t shoestring like I was.

  My ace in the hole was he was taking care of his mama, living rent free at her place, and she was down the block. If any restaurant—from pub to classy joint—got a hold of Lamont, they’d snap him up. I was sure of it.

  But for now, he was helping me so much, making my Busia’s recipes, adding his own twist to the American stuff on the menu, and generally causing zero drama, which was a godsend. Except for right now, with the pierogi dilemma.

  “What do you want for the neighborhood watch meeting? You want to feed them all for free? That’s going to cut into your profits.”

  He knew we were on a shoestring, all the time. He knew not to waste a scrap.

  “I promised the food, it’s how I got them to come ton
ight.”

  We’d all had it. We needed a neighborhood watch; we needed to keep our selves safer. But no one was organizing one, so I did it. I was worried. What if we didn’t make a dent in the crime, but the citizen patrol ate all my food and time? I pushed this particular worry to the back of my mind. I had other ones that needed full attention.

  “How about we serve only potato filling, that’s the cheapest. I cut the pie from yesterday by the slice, so we can have a mix. Then we do everything else as small sliders? Like tiny small?”

  “Perfect, and I think we might have a dozen to start.”

  “Fine, fine. ORDER UP TERRY!”

  Lamont was always moving the plates and I appreciated that. Terry sauntered over to the window.

  “Who is that man at the bar?”

  Terry didn’t miss a trick. She was married with three kids, but she appreciated a handsome man and Ridge was that, and more.

  “He helped me out of a little jam today, and I can’t quite shake him.”

  “Why would you want to?” Terry said and clipped up an order ticket.

  “He bothering you? You want me to go out there?”

  Lamont was protective of the waitresses and me. It was nice, since Kevin was too skinny and Dziadzia was too old to do a darn thing if stuff got ugly. I was pretty good at deflection, but Lamont had given us all a little more piece of mind at work.

  “No, no he helped me out is this his order?” I asked Terry.

  “Yep.” I saw she had tallied the beer and I crossed it off.

  “On the house?” Terry gave me a look that implied I was going to give Ridge way more than a free beer.

  “He shooed away a would-be mugger, okay? I think that warrants a free beer.”

  “Your neighborhood watch better be armed with cannons the way this neighborhood is going,” Lamont said.

  I shook my head.

  “Look at this way, maybe the food will be a great example for future customers of Polish Wedding.”

  I had a new business idea that I hoped Lamont and I could do together, hosting and catering authentic Polish weddings. But it was a long way from becoming a reality. Right now, the banquet hall attached to the bar was sitting there, costing me money, not earning. Maybe the meeting could serve two purposes and give people the idea that I had a good venue here.