“I know the score,” I told her, something she had to know.

It seemed she didn’t when little wrinkles appeared between her brows and her head tipped to the side.

“What’s the score?”

“He’ll work through it, just not with me,” I said the last quickly to reassure her. “He got what he’s gonna get from me on that. And it was good, Feb. He needed it, and it was far from shit bein’ there to give it to him. But that’s done. If we can iron things out, we’ll get back to what we had, keep that, and I’ll be happy when he finds what he needs to get happy.”

She didn’t believe me and didn’t hide the fact she didn’t. It was right there with the sweet, the gentle, the concern.

She knew.

She knew I was in deep with Merry.

There was a lot I’d share with Feb, lay on her, lean on her to help me work it through, bitch at her just so I could get it out. Anything. Practically everything.

But not that.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I declared, doing it with finality so we could stop talking about it.

She nodded, hearing my tone, knowing what I needed and, being Feb, giving it to me.

With me helping, it didn’t take long to finish the restock. When we were done, she grabbed the empty boxes and headed to the back to finish the stock take.

I went to the front to unlock the door.

I hadn’t yet fully made it down the bar to round it when the door opened.

I turned and stopped when I saw Ryker prowling in, his eyes clamped on me, his big, motorcycle-booted feet bearing down on me.

The vision of this from Ryker would likely scare ninety-nine percent of the human population straight to the point of wetting themselves.

This was because he was huge. He was also wearing a black tank stretched across a massive chest, a black leather jacket hanging from his extensive shoulders, this hiding the two sleeves of tattoos adorning his arms. He had a large, lethal-looking knife sheathed at the side of his belt. He was bald and many would think he was ugly.

I was not a woman who thought that. Rough, tough, and scary didn’t turn me off, and a man did not have to be conventionally attractive to get my attention.

Just looking at him, I knew Ryker could be a monster in bed and be that in a bad way.

He could be the same in a very, very good way.

Or he could shock the shit out of you and be all about you in gentle ways that blew your mind.

I suspected, depending on his mood, he was both of the last two. I suspected this because I knew Lissa, his woman.

She was a good woman, a hardworking one, a kind one, and not a stupid one. She would no sooner glance Ryker’s way again if he didn’t treat her right than she’d do harm to the daughter she adored. Definitely not have him in her bed and keep him there.