Read Bound to the Bounty Hunter for Free Online

gassing.” A man who looked like he’d been living rough since the Vietnam War walked to the bar, shrugging off a leather jacket. Denim-clad, biker boots. Piercing blue eyes locked on Sophie, then narrowed. “Who’s this?”
    “Keep your hair on.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “We’re taking a two-minute break, and this is your new waitress who, incidentally, the patrons of your fine establishment find hot.”
    Eyebrows hit the biker’s hairline, and scary eyes turned to Gemma, who didn’t seem to pick up on the arctic glare directed her way.
    “No it isn’t. I told you to hire someone men will want in their station and who’ll come back because she’s in their station. That ain’t her.”
    That was her. Too tall, too plain.
    Gemma’s hands landed on her hips.
    “She’s good, Pipe. She didn’t take Boris’s shit, stared him down, and tapped her foot until he smiled. She had Mick on the ground when he went to slap her after she told him she’d cut off his dick and serve it to him in a sandwich with a fry. She’s quick and does her job well. I’m fairly certain she isn’t out for a quick fuck with a biker.”
    Sophie felt her eyes widen.
    “I’m tired of working shifts on my own because you hire girls who are only here to get a glory fuck by a biker before they walk up the aisle in their WASP dress and marry their missionary position boyfriend.” Gemma poked Pipe in the chest. “She’s better than good.”
    Her heart threw in a double beat. “Thanks,” she murmured to Gemma, who reached over to squeeze her hand.
    “Besides, I think the boot thing is hot. I’m guessing half the guys tonight will go home and jack off thinking of her mile-long legs wrapped around their hips.”
    Sophie pulled on the hem of her skirt, her cheeks burning.
    “No stilettos, no job,” Pipe barked. He turned to Cope. “No one touches the girls. Mick’s banned.”
    Sophie pressed her lips together. Not like there was an HR department. Lodging an official complaint about sexism in the workplace would fall on deaf ears. She could either inform him that it was sexist to make women wear ridiculously high shoes and he must be breaking some UN Women’s Rights legislation, or tell him to stick his job, get changed, and never come back.
    She mentally calculated the tips she’d received so far. She’d already paid the overdue gas bill and Melissa Gibson. Next up she’d be paying the electricity. She liked electricity. Electricity cleaned clothes, granted her access to The Young and the Restless , and provided hot water. If this kept up, Michelle P from South Florida would be receiving two hundred dollars.
    Another name paid back.
    Gemma moved into Pipe’s space, hands on her hips again.
    “If she goes, I go.”
    Pipe stared at Gemma for half a second before his icy glance cut to Sophie.
    “You’re only here because of her. Give me a reason to get rid of you, and you’re gone.”

    At three a.m. when she started swaying with fatigue, the bar emptied out. Sophie hauled herself around, each step feeling like she’d dunked her boots in another layer of cement. Finally, Dave, the other bartender, closed the door. The four of them delivered empty glasses to the kitchen area, stacked empty bottles in the keg room. Gemma had tossed her a cloth, and they’d sprayed the tables in artificial lemon and wiped them down. Much to her horror, Pipe insisted on walking her to her car, leaving Cope to escort Gemma to her Beetle.
    After insisting she was fine, five times, Pipe ignored her and walked by her side.
    Well this isn’t awkward .
    “For the time you’re working at the bar, if you need a place, for whatever reason, you can come here,” Pipe said, looking straight ahead.
    If they weren’t the only two in the parking lot, she’d have thought he was talking to someone else. He didn’t turn his head to address her, instead aimed for the only car left in the lot. She’d parked under a light with what looked like drunk moths