I lined up my shot. She brought her cue down hard on my hand. CJ grabbed it from her, but a look from Wallace warned him to stay out of it.

“Okay, let’s clear the air,” I said. “The day I walked in here, you were no closer to having Ricky than the first time you laid eyes on him. That’s no insult to you. You just aren’t his type. You could dance naked on the table and pour tequila down his throat, and you still wouldn’t—”

She flew across the table at me. Or she tried to. It isn’t a maneuver to be attempted by anyone without gymnastics training. So it was more of a “scramble onto the table and crawl over” at me.

I grabbed her by the arm and threw her down. Then I planted one boot on her stomach and leaned in. “Maybe it would make you feel better to knock me around, but you don’t seem to be very good at it. So I’m going to take my foot off you, and we’ll retreat to our respective corners and call it a draw.”

This seemed a perfectly reasonable solution. But as soon as I stepped off, she went for me again. CJ grabbed her from behind and looked at Beau, who backed away, hands up.

“Meribeth?” CJ called to Lily’s mother. “Take your girl out of here. I don’t want to see her back for a month.”

Lily howled. Meribeth tried to wheedle the suspension down to a week. I glanced at Wallace, but he shook his head, telling me not to interfere. Then he picked up a pool cue and motioned for the game to resume.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

We played two more games. Beau backed out after the first and left the room, presumably going after Lily, playing his choices down the middle—don’t piss off the senior club guys by supporting her, but don’t spoil his chance of getting lucky, either. Another guy took his place. When that game finished, I excused myself to use the restroom. I came out to find Beau waiting.

“All yours,” I said.

His gaze slid over me and he grinned. “Really? Well, I appreciate the invitation, but I’m not sure Ricky would approve.”

He said it as “Rick-ee,” drawing out the diminutive with a sneering falsetto. I hadn’t seen him drink much in the clubhouse, but the stink of booze rolled off his breath. I resisted the urge to retort, and brushed past with a simple, “Excuse me.” His arm shot out to stop me.

“You handled yourself well in there,” he said. “It sure got me all hot and bothered. Is that what Ricky likes? A girl who can stand up for herself?” He smirked. “No, I bet Ricky likes to be the one on the floor with your heel digging into his chest. Am I close?”

“Not by half. Now move—”

“Oh, come on, tell the truth. We all know which one of you wears the pants.”

“Ricky prefers me in skirts. Easier access.”

He choked on a chortling laugh. “No, sweetie. If anyone’s wearing skirts, it’s the pretty boy. Everyone knows he’s soft. They just don’t know how soft. But now that he’s got himself a ball-busting, smart-mouthed girlfriend, his secret’s out.”

“Move. Now.”

“Did I mention the tough-girl act turns me on?”

“Yep, and if that’s a threat, may I remind you that you’re in the middle of a clubhouse full of bikers? The only one you need to worry about, though, is Ricky. Lay a finger on me and he’ll want you all to himself. And if you think that’s nothing to worry about, you’re even more clueless than you seem, which is damned clueless, having spent the last couple of minutes yapping without noticing the switchblade at your gut.”

He looked down and saw the knife.

“A present from Ricky,” I said. “Yes, he does like a girl who knows how to take care of herself, because he can’t be there all the time. Very sweet, don’t you think?”

“No, very stupid. You know the problem with giving a girl a knife? The second someone takes it—”

He grabbed for it. I slashed, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Did I mention he showed me how to use it?” I said.

He dove at me, snarling, “You bitch.”

Before I could react, someone grabbed him from behind and yanked him off his feet. It was Wallace. He put Beau up against the wall. He didn’t say a word, just held him there. Then he dropped him, stepped back, and waited. Beau struggled to his feet. He stood with his fists at his sides, one hand dripping blood. When Wallace made no move, Beau hightailed it down the hall.

“You need to tell Ricky,” Wallace said.

“I know.”

He eyed me. “I mean it, Liv. If that boy went after you, Ricky needs to handle it, even if that’s not how you normally do things.”

“It isn’t. I am going to tell him, though. Not because the guy cornered me, but because he insulted Ricky, who needs to know a potential prospect doesn’t respect him.”

Wallace grunted. He seemed marginally impressed.

“Beau wasn’t really hitting on me,” I continued. “He was taking a shot at Ricky. That seems a stupid thing for a potential prospect to do.”

Wallace shrugged. “With some of these guys, testosterone runs higher than IQ. I’m just glad I saw that side before we started seriously considering him. Guys like that are not welcome.”

“Guys like what?” Ricky rounded the corner and stopped beside me. He slid an arm around my waist. “Something up?”

“Beau,” Wallace said, and gave me a look to say he’d handle this.

“Beau?” Ricky said. “Oh, right. New guy.”