Test Drive Read Free

out at Ray’s. A smart choice, actually. Johnny loved the joint, but Ray’s catered to a rough crowd.
    The perfect place for his kind of people, he thought with a grin.
    * * *
    Hours later and a dollar in quarters poorer, having been goaded into a few f-bombs though Sam had sworn Del was outside the garage, Johnny sat with his buddies near the darts at Ray’s, drinking and preparing for his weekend.
    “No plans, guys. For once, I’m a free man for two whole days.” He kicked back and sighed with pleasure.
    “So no work at your dad’s club for you, huh?” Foley asked. “Too bad. I was going to offer to help.”
    “Me too,” Sam added, his voice like the growl of a wounded bear. “Damn. I was hoping to talk to Candy again.”
    “Sorry, sport. Dear old Dad is Candy’s new squeeze.”
    “Bummer.” Sam shrugged. “But the guy’s got good taste.”
    He always had. Johnny had grown up without his mother, but with a bevy of maternal support. His father had a thing for strippers, so it made sense Jack Devlin had finally ponied up and bought his own strip club a few years back. Johnny had never faulted his father’s fascination with tits and ass. But it would have been nice to have just one set around while growing up, and getting to know more than the girl’s stage name before she squirreled.
    “So have you seen Sue yet?” he asked Foley.
    The others waited. Lou seemed especially amused. Johnny knew that gleam in his friend’s eyes.
    “Ah, not yet.”
    Sam snorted. “He’s been either hiding in the bathroom or ducking behind Earl.”
    Earl—a huge-ass bouncer Johnny had no intention of annoying. Ever. And the same went for the other guy, Big J, whom everyone said looked like Mr. Clean.
    Foley flushed. “First off, I had to piss. Second, I wasn’t ducking behind Earl. I said hi to the guy, and he asked me what I thought about Dodge trucks.”
    “Uh-huh. Sure you weren’t asking him about Sue’s frame of mind?” Johnny teased. Over Foley’s shoulder, he saw Lara smiling at a woman over the bar. His heart stuttered, and he did his best to act cool, collected. She’s not interested. She’s a nice girl. Leave her alone.
    Like clockwork, his perverse, inner loudmouth had him offering to order the next round. “Be right back. And remember, don’t hate the player, hate the game—when I win . Suckers.”
    Grinning, he left the guys at the table swearing, and nabbed a free place at the crowded bar. Lara, Sue, and a few others were hopping, grabbing drinks, and pouring like mad. Behind him he heard a scuffle break out, and he turned to see two guys who used to be friends hammering on each other.
    “That’s rough,” a biker covered in tats next to him said. “But then, Jim should have known better than to hit up Sheila with her new guy right there.”
    “He really needs to lay off the tequila.” Lara sounded exasperated. “I told Earl to keep an eye on him.”
    Johnny turned and locked gazes with her. She had her long brown hair pulled back in a familiar ponytail. The silky mass reached her lower back, and he was dying to see her hair down just once. She wore minimal makeup, a bit of liner and some thicker mascara. Growing up around women who glammed up for a living, he’d learned early on about a woman’s trade secrets. But he doubted the red in her cheeks came from blush. More like from the heat in the place. And damn, it would have been nice if everyone around him cared about personal hygiene as much as he did.
    He wrinkled his nose when a new guy replaced the one next to him and leaned toward Lara, wafting his less-than-pleasant scent. Lara wiped her hand over her nose and pretended a cough.
    He and she shared a grin, and his pulse galloped like a racehorse. The sight of her smile, and that heart-stopping dimple, always made it hard for him to breathe. More than physical beauty, Lara possessed a warm inner core that got him hazy and drunk faster than a hometown IPA.
    “So, you the bartender?”