I frowned, not liking how he’d pumped my friend for information. In all fairness, though, she’d probably been the one doing the pumping.

Pumping. Ha. A fit of giggles overtook me as I reached for another tiny glass.

“What’s so funny?” Boonie asked, his lips tracing the edges of my ear. It distracted me long enough for him to take away my drink and set it out of reach, which was really unfair. Then his hand started running up and down my thigh under the table and I forgot all about the booze.

“Kelly pumped you,” I said, giggling again.

He gave a low laugh. “Darce, you’re hot as hell but I got no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”

I let my head flop back on his shoulder, smiling at him. God, he was beautiful. Kelly squawked as one of the bikers caught her hand, dragging her off toward the dance floor.

“You want to dance?” Boonie asked. I nodded, grinning at him. “I take it that means you’re over your snit?”

I frowned. “What snit?”

“At the bar. You looked pissed to see me. I wondered what’d been going through that brain of yours.”

I frowned, trying to remember. Oh, yeah. I wasn’t married anymore. That was pretty fabulous.

“I like being single,” I informed him. “I like how nobody tells me what to do. If you tell me what to do, that’ll piss me off.”

He laughed, then leaned close.

“Babe, I’m not Farell.”

I shifted in his lap, feeling the bulge of his cock flex under my ass. A wave of heated need ran through me, and my drunken mouth spoke before giving my brain a chance to weigh in.

“The last time I had any real penis/vagina action was with you in that cemetery,” I said, trying to focus on his face. Unfortunately things had started to spin, making it damned hard. Ha. Hard. I liked hard things. “Farell couldn’t get it up after the accident. We still fooled around and he got me off, but even that hasn’t happened for at least a year.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, turning me toward him. One hand caught my hair, and then he was kissing me, tongue diving deep into my mouth. His dick turned rock solid under my ass and I wiggled happily because everything was tingly between my legs—woohoo!

The night turned fuzzy after that.

I know we danced for a long time. We also made out a bunch, which was perfectly fine because after every kiss I reminded him that I absolutely, positively wasn’t interested in a relationship.

Boonie just nodded and smiled—then he’d kiss me again.

The only part that wasn’t so great were the other bikers. Now that I knew how much money Farell owed, I was a little scared they might ask me about it. Fortunately, they were too busy trying to convince Kelly and the others to come back to their clubhouse and party to pay attention to me.

By last call, I was exhausted, starving, and horny as hell.

That’s when Kelly stood and informed us we needed a “potty break.” We all trouped to the bathroom in a giggly, wobbling clump, taking turns using the disgusting little stall as Kelly called for a vote.

“So what’s next, girls? We going to that party or doing our own thing?”

I frowned into the mirror, then made fish lips at myself. Glub. Glub. Funny . . . Sudden, loud shouting broke through my alcoholic fog and I blinked. This wasn’t happy, “We’re at the bar!” shouting. These were definitely “Holy shit, something’s really wrong!” sounds.

“What the fuck?” Kelly asked as we looked at each other with wide eyes. Creeping to the door, I opened it a smidge. People were rushing through the hall toward the emergency exit. Not good.

“We gotta get out of here,” I told her. Someone pushed against the door and I stepped back as Boonie opened it, his face dead serious.

“C’mon, all of you,” he said, grabbing my wrist to pull me out into the hall. The rest of the girls followed and then his friends were with us as we joined the tide of people. I still had no idea what the hell was going on. After a few long, confusing minutes the flow of bodies burst out into the alley and I saw flashing lights everywhere.

“Fuck,” Boonie said, jerking me closer. Good thing, too, because people were lurching and falling all around us. I heard someone shouting over a loudspeaker, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.

We started following the back of the building, trying to get away from the crowd. In the distance I heard more cries and screams. I couldn’t see Kelly anymore. I couldn’t really see anything—just random people rushing in all directions, their faces panicked.

After an eternity of waiting, we reached the end of the alley and ran into the street. That’s when I saw the line of cops wearing riot gear and carrying plastic shields. They were shouting something . . .

“Get back!”

“Oh, fuck,” Boonie muttered. Suddenly a rock flew over our heads. It hit one of the cops. Then a glass beer bottle shattered against a shield. The police line faltered, and one of them stepped out of line, lifting his baton to hit a man who’d been standing too close. Suddenly the others started hitting people, too, and the crowd panicked. Everyone surged back but there was nowhere to run—the wall of people behind us just kept pressing forward. I felt Boonie’s grip on me slip.

“Boonie!” a man yelled. I looked over to see one of his biker friends waving at us. He plowed into the crowd, cutting a line toward us. Boonie caught me up, throwing me over his shoulder as he moved toward his friend. People were throwing more rocks now as the police kept fighting them.

What the hell? Things like this don’t happen in Coeur d’Alene!

The crowd ebbed and surged around us as Boonie fought free, then we were running across Lakeside Avenue into the neighborhood just north of downtown. We weren’t the only ones fleeing—all around people ran up the street, screaming and crying. I’d never seen anything like it.

‘’You okay?” Boonie asked, setting me back down. I nodded.

“The others already left,’’ his friend said.

“Thanks, brother,’’ Boonie told him. I looked at the biker, noting the Silver Bastard patches he wore. This man had thrown himself into a rioting crowd to guide us to safety, I realized. No wonder Boonie considered him a brother. For the first time, I realized the club might be more than a criminal gang . . .

“Thank you,” I said, and the man offered a toothy smile. I saw a trail of blood trickling down his forehead.

“Are you hurt?’’

“No worries,” he said, wiping at it. “One of ’em got me, but I got him back.”

The sudden, bright light of a spotlight filled my eyes.

“Stay where you are,” a voice said over a loudspeaker.

“Let’s go!” Boonie’s friend shouted, then we were running again as the sound of the rioting crowd grew louder behind us.

_______

Ten minutes later, Boonie and I slowed to a walk as we moved up Fifth Street. I had no idea where his friend had gone, or where Kelly was.

“Would your friends have taken the girls with them?” I asked Boonie as we stopped to lean against a wooden privacy fence. My breath came hard and my side hurt from running. At least I wasn’t feeling drunk anymore. Way too much adrenaline . . .

“Yeah, they should be fine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We planned it out when we came looking for you. Fuck. Don’t take this the wrong way, but every time I kiss you something blows up. I’m startin’ to think we’re cursed.”

I looked at him, and realized he was right. First the mine, then Farell’s crash . . . now whatever the ever-loving hell this had been.

“Damn. What do you think would happen if we actually made it to a second date?”

He stared at me, then his face cracked and he started laughing. I caught his mood, and then we were both laughing so hard tears ran down my face.

“Fuck if I know,” he said admitted finally. “Apocalypse or some shit?”

I sobered, frowning at him. He was joking, of course, but he raised a point. Bad things really did seem to happen every time we got together.