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GOLDIE: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club
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Goldie, Road Captain of the Night Rebels MC, loves women and women love him. He’s a simple man who only needs his Harley, whiskey, and women—in that order—in his life to make it hum. Being an officer of an outlaw motorcycle club, the women are more than willing to accommodate the blond, ripped, and tatted biker. His rule is simple: pleasure without commitment. It’s served him well until one night when she walked into the club’s tattoo shop wanting an ink job on her sexy bottom.
For reasons he doesn’t understand, he’s drawn to her.
Then he finds out her name is Hailey Shilley. He hasn’t seen her since she moved away from Alina eleven years ago.
She’s off limits.
Problem is he can’t get her or her sweet tattoo out of his mind.
Hailey Shilley left Alina when she’d first started high school. She’s back to help her aunt run her floral shop. When she stumbles into the tattoo parlor with her two friends, she doesn’t expect to find the most gorgeous guy she’s ever laid eyes on. His ripped body, strong jaw, and to-die-for tats make her tingle all over. She can’t get him out of her mind.
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The tattoo shop bustled as young men and women filed in to make a statement on their skin. The weekends at Get Inked were crazy since it was the only tattoo and piercing shop that looked decent. Bent Needles, the shop’s competitor, had been cited for health violations numerous times by the county. The Night Rebels owned Get Inked, and customers felt comfortable in the clean, professional-looking establishment. The ochre-yellow walls and dark brown laminate floors had a calming effect on people who paid to have needles pierce their designs into their skin.
“Did Flora ever call?” Tattoo Mike asked Goldie as he slipped a wad of cash into the cash register.
“Nope. I tried calling and texting her a bunch of times. It’d be a big help if we had a receptionist tonight. It sucks to have to run the counter and do the ink. We should fire her ass. This is the second Saturday she’s pulled this shit.” Goldie ran his hand through his short hair.
“I already have an ad online and in the paper. She’s history.” Tattoo Mike glanced over the appointment book. “We gotta start limiting walk-ins on the weekends. You got any appointments for tonight?”
“I just finished with my last one. You?”
“I got two, and both of them are pretty intense in design. Looks like you, Skull, and Jimmy are gonna have to handle the walk-ins.”
“No problem. I’m going to get a club girl over here to handle the front desk.” Goldie picked up his phone and dialed one of his brothers. “Dude. We need one of the girls to help out tonight. That bitch Flora was a no-show again. We’re slammed and it’s just gonna get worse. Seems like everyone wants a tat or a piercing after downing a few shots.” Goldie chuckled.
“I’ll bring one of the girls over. The bitch just lost her job,” Paco said.
“Tattoo Mike’s already got an ad out. Thanks, dude. See you in a few.” Goldie set his phone down and looked up as Skull approached.
“Jimmy’s sick as shit. There’s no way he can work on anyone.” Skull pulled out a bottle of root beer from the mini fridge behind the counter.
“Fuck! Tattoo Mike’s got two customs.” Goldie clasped the back of his neck and rubbed it hard.
Jimmy was the only citizen tattoo artist who worked at Get Inked. He’d been working there for over five years and his work was impeccable. The club had talked about taking on another citizen artist part-time, but they hadn’t found anyone they thought was good enough and fit into the overall vibe of the shop. The tattoo parlor didn’t just have customers from Alina; citizens from the outlying county and as far away as Durango came to the shop. Their reputation for having top-notched tattoo artists was known throughout the southwestern part of Colorado.
“Looks like we’ll be hustling our asses in about another hour.” Skull looked at the wall clock that was surrounded by framed pictures of tattooed men and women. The clock read eleven; soon people would be leaving the bars. “I hope I don’t have to kick anyone’s ass tonight. We don’t have time for that shit.” Skull guzzled the root beer.
Goldie nodded. The road captain for the Night Rebels usually loved a good fight, but not when he was working and needed to concentrate on what the hell he was doing. Many people staggered in drunk and loud, demanding to have a tattoo or a piercing. The policy was to turn them away. Sometimes they had to get tough and throw them out, and there was always someone who thought he could fight them. It really got under Goldie’s skin.
“Hey, guys,” Kelly said as she walked through the door. She was the club girl who usually offered to help out at the club’s businesses if they needed backup.
“Hey. You’re the receptionist for the next three hours.” Goldie moved aside as she squeezed in behind the counter, rubbing her behind against him.
“You owe me. I was right in the middle of getting real cozy with one of the Fallen Slayers. He was cute too.”
The Fallen Slayers MC was a club the Night Rebels were friendly with. They lived about an hour away in Silverado and would come to the club’s weekend parties. Once in a while, the Night Rebels would go to Silverado to shoot some pool with them or hang at one of their parties.
“You guys need anything else?” Paco asked.
Goldie smiled. “No. You anxious to get back to the party? How’s the citizen turnout tonight?”
“Fucking awesome.” Paco lifted his eyebrows.
“Damn. We need to be there.” Skull came out from behind the counter and sank down onto one of the black leather couches against the wall.
“They’ll still be there when we get off,” Goldie said.
Paco nodded. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m outta here.”