The Offering (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 12) by Karen Ann Hopkins

Author:Karen Ann Hopkins [Hopkins, Karen Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-29T23:00:00+00:00

14

“I’m definitely going in there with you,” Daniel said as he exited the Jeep and shut the door behind him.

I tried not to smile but failed as I stepped outside and looked around. The parking lot was full, and the place appeared to be hopping if the loud country music blasting through open doorway and the dozen or so cowboy-hat-wearing patrons lined up to get in were any indication. The one-story brick façade had moss growing on it. A gutter had come loose and hung from the roof. The enormous sign for the Jessie James Bar was easily seen from the highway. It was also the last building before leaving Sugar Grove. I could throw a rock and it would land in the next county.

Daniel waited for me at the front of the Jeep with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. After my meeting with Peter Sicario, he had been ready to hit the road for home, but I’d burst his bubble. The last place he wanted to be standing outside of was a shady-looking nightclub on the edge of a strange town. I didn’t blame him. Neither did I.

His sour mood bristled mine. “You can wait in the Jeep, Daniel. I got this.”

“Hell no,” he retorted. “There’s no way you’re going in there without me.”

“What do you think I do when you’re not around? Huh?” I crossed my arms, glad I had dressed casually and wouldn’t stick out in the crowd. Daniel fit right in with his flannel shirt and canvas work coat.

He gave a curt shake of his head. “You would have Todd or Jeremy as backup.” When my brows shot up, he quickly added, “I know you can handle it. I’m well aware of your job duties and the risks you take every day, but you can’t expect me to stand back when I know you’re putting yourself in harm’s way.”

I exhaled. We didn’t have time for this conversation. “It’s a small-town bar, not a war zone. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you will be—with me by your side.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” I headed for the front doors and Daniel fell into step with me. I eyed him. His jaw was set and his posture rigid. He looked like a cop having a bad day. We got in line behind three bubbly women and a greasy-haired middle-aged guy. I attempted to cheer Daniel up. “Just pretend we’re on a date. You know, like we used to do.”

He looked over and his brows shot up. “We’d go on more dates if you had the time. Besides, when have we ever hung out at a bar on date night?”

“We go to Charlie’s all the time,” I countered.

“That’s a restaurant. It doesn’t count.”

“Pub, actually.”

Daniel was right. This joint was not nearly as civilized as the quaint, wood-paneled venue back in Blood Rock. Occasionally, local musicians would play at Charlie’s. There were several pool tables, and the place had a European vibe. The greasy food was amazing. Sure, even Charlie’s had its fair share of bar-room brawls, but for the most part, everyone behaved.

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