Shelby stood outside the upholstery shop beside Nacho's red Javelin. The bus had arrived faster than she'd anticipated, leaving her to wait a few minutes before the upholstery shop closed and Nacho could join her.
After futzing with her tank top and jeans for the tenth time, she anxiously checked her reflection in the side mirror. And though she declined the offer to borrow Ferrah's clothes for the date, she did let her sister put on her makeup. After she was satisfied that it still looked exactly as it had before, she couldn't help but chuckle at herself.
She was nervous. Actually nervous.
This was the longest she'd ever been seeing someone, and yet she still felt a strange butterfly sensation in her belly. Like one day he'd come see her and finally realize being some mechanic's daughter was too boring for him. Or something along those lines, she wasn't really sure.
Workers began filing out for the day and she perked up, watching the crowd for Nacho.
Walking in tandem with his father, Nacho finally emerged from the building. They were talking as they locked up the doors, and Nacho pulled the long metal grate down over the windows.
His father looked over to her car and nudged Nacho with his elbow. He began walking over to her but Nacho pulled his arm back. They exchanged some quick words before his father waved him off, and resigned to walk the other direction.
Nacho quickly made his way across the parking lot, but when he almost reached her he stopped, making a frame with his hands as he looked up and down the length of her. "This is the best sight I've seen all week."
Shelby gave a pleased smile and closed the space between them.
Nacho gave her a tight hug, practically scooping her off the ground. He then set her down and made his way to the back of his car, popping the trunk.
"So, where is it exactly that we're going?" She walked over to the passenger door.
"It's a surprise." He said, unbuttoning his work shirt.
She couldn't help but watch as he pulled it off and tossed it in the back. Capable muscles flexed pleasingly as he pulled out a black shirt, shook out the wrinkles, and pulled it on.
Then he grabbed his leather jacket and closed the trunk with a snap.
Shelby paused for a moment, taking him in. With this quick change he instantly became darkly handsome, and briefly considered just taking him back to her place.
"Do you want to drive?"
Shelby was already walking to the driver's side when she answered. "Are you sure?" Not even slightly shy about it, she very much wanted to get behind the wheel, and giddily opened the door.
A slanted smile crossed his lips, "no please, I insist," and he plinked the keys into her hand.
Quickly hopping in, Shelby marveled at how clean and detailed the interior was. It was well cared for, which only added to how sexy the car was. She beamed as she wrapped her hands around the wide thin steering wheel.
Nacho closed the door for her and got in on the other side, tossing his leather jacket in the back. He leaned back comfortably in his seat, and gestured gasually. "Go left down this road."
"Really? Not even a hint?" She turned the key in the ignition.
The engine was brought to life with a wild roar and settled somewhere in a contented rumble.
Shelby's eyes lit up at the sound, feeling the exhilarating thrill of being in control of such a machine. Turning to him with a gleam, "I don't know how you don't get speeding tickets all the time."
Nacho shrugged a shoulder and gently put his hand to rest on the top of her thigh. "I'll let you know if we're going too fast."
It was permission. Her heart swelled with pride, and something else that she couldn't quite place, that he trusted her to take this thing that was so precious to him.
She started out slow: getting used to the transmission, the process of the drive under such a responsive car. It was like an animal all its own, teetering just on the brink of out-of-control. Sure, she had been entrusted with such a privilege, but she wanted to stay very clear of reckless.
It was easy to push just above the speed limit as they took off down the road to the freeway.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see he was watching her.
When they pulled up to a light she turned to face him.
His dark eyes locked onto her, hungry and aching.
"What?" She asked innocuously.
He waited a long moment to answer, before finally saying, "I like watching you drive."
When they began to move again, he shifted in his seat, putting his arm around her, and leaning forward.
"Where next?" She sat up straight, trying to stay focused on the road as he came nearer.
He leaned in, his lips just grazing the skin of her ear. "I'll let you know."
She couldn't help but feel the muscles of her jaw tense at the tickling sensation, unable to hide a smile. "You could just tell me where this is."
"It's a surprise. Up at the light, turn left." He then leaned back into his seat, putting his arm comfortably around her.
They rolled to a stop at a red light. Nacho leaned towards her, brushing the hair from her face and sweeping it behind her neck. His worn hands were an accustomed and welcome feeling on her skin.
Nacho's touch left electric sparks everywhere it went and seemed to run a power surge through her brain, rendering it useless. She leaned into the sensation of his mouth on her neck and took a deep breath in.
That wonderful smell, so distinctly him, filled her nose.
He turned up his chin and their eyes met as his face was inches from hers.
She leaned in to kiss him but the light turned green and to her surprise, he pulled back.
"Don't get distracted. Turn left on Caedar." He said, a devilish gleam in his eye.
Mouth gaping but she failed to hide her smile as she did as he instructed. "You're mean."
Her brain hadn't quite reset and she ground the gears going into second.
"Careful." Nacho let out a single chuckle and slowly leaned towards her again.
This objectively distracting game he was playing was driving her crazy. And he knew it. She couldn't figure out the reasoning for the taunt and she wondered if he let her drive just so he could do this. Or if it was something else. She couldn't make her brain slow down enough to rationalize it.
Her cheeks flushed under where Nacho was now lightly moving his lips over her skin. His smell was like leather and his lips were like suede. Soft and luxurious.
Maybe as he intended, her brain and body were sparking on overdrive.
She wanted to slam the brakes and bring her mouth to his. Pull her fingers through his hair, bring his muscled chest up against hers, bite along his strong jaw. Forget dinner, Ignacio was what she wanted to devour. The stubble on his face, his fingers dancing lightly up and down her neck, the sound of his breath in her ear.
Dizzying and enthralling, it was becoming more difficult to think, let alone focus on the road.
Every one of his moves was tantalizing and she leaned into his touch, she turned to kiss him back but he pulled away.
"Pay attention to the road." His eye brow flicked up, he looked at her with a playful scolding.
She huffed in resignation and squeezed the steering wheel in her hands. Attempting to use it as a conduit to wring out her pent up frustration.
Completely unfair. He knew exactly what game he was playing.
"Do you want me to crash your car?" She said indignantly as she pulled the car forward and began down the access road to the highway.
A little chuckle escaped him and he swooped in to kiss her again. His mouth met her bare shoulder, and his finger slipped under the strap of her tank top, dancing along the line of skin down to her collar bone, then back up again and around to her shoulder blade.
His touch sent goosebumps all over her body. And he must have noticed this as his attention turned to running the faintest tips of his fingers slowly up and down the inside of her forearm to her elbow. When she tried to pull her arm back from the ticklish sensation he scolded her again.
"Both hands on the wheel, Shelby." He tilted his chin down as he watched her, his eyes dark with mischief.
Shelby followed several more of his directions in this continued game of teasing. But thankfully, the light just before the access ramp turned red.
She wheeled around to face Nacho.
He leaned back, eyebrows raised and his palms up. Like a guilty child just caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Her flirtatious smile barely contained the quizzical look, which really undercut her tone. "What has gotten into you?"
Satisfied smirk on his face, he leaned back and rested beside her, calmly placing his arm around her. "What do you mean?" He put a relaxed hand on her shoulder and he rubbed her skin gently with his thumb. "Get on here and take exit 84."
"That's how it's gonna be?" Shelby raised her eyebrows and did as he instructed.
"Well it seemed like your dad wanted to meet me. Doesn't he?" She gave a mischievous grin, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.
Nacho's nostrils flared giving her the response without words.
"Well, forget dinner, let's go back so I can meet him." She pressed, and backed up her words by pulling the car to a stop on the side of the road.
The car behind her honked at the sudden inconvenience and whizzed past.
"Another time." He said, his words were even, but a bobbing in his throat gave him away.
Content with her victory, she asked. "So, where are we going?"
"Copper Spool. It's an old pool hall just outside the Electric District that just got a new chef. It's supposed to have the best wings in the city."
"Yum." She perked up in her seat. Putting the car back in gear she said, "I'm going to warn you. I've played pool twice in my life, so try not to be too impressed."
Nacho shrugged, a little smile crossed his face, "don't worry, it doesn't matter."
"And don't think you're going to get away with that little stunt, Ignacio."
"No. I was getting you back for teasing me. Now we're even." Nacho said with a breezy tone.
"We are far from even." Shelby's stomach growled and she hoped it wouldn't be much further.
He guided them across town and sure enough on the border of the Electric District, where the endless rows of factories and warehouses budded up with the rest of West Side, was a string of shacks that sat in the center of a gravel parking area.
More popular than it should have been for an old pool hall, the parking lot was swamped with various work trucks and other cars belonging to the blue collar variety.
They found a non-delineated parking space at the rear corner of the gravel lot and got out.
A breeze rolled over them and Shelby kicked herself for wearing just her tank top and jeans. The sun would be setting soon and she hadn't really anticipated it like she should have.
Broken glass was sprinkled throughout the gravel leading up to the buildings and crunched under Nacho's boots.
They weaved through the remainder of the parked cars and walked up towards the building at the end of the row.
The Copper Spool was a building made entirely of repurposed sheet metal, corrugated or rusted, didn't matter. Although it looked as though any second a stiff breeze would knock it over, people were congregated all around it, and music and delicious smells wafted through the cracks.
They passed clusters of people including some less than happy working folks. Obvious regulars who didn't like the influx of strangers to their place. And they made their disdain known to each of the people who walked by them into the building. Hurling bottles and insults at anyone in their range.
Perhaps in an attempt to make their usual bar less appealing, or because they were obviously several drinks deep, but they were as belligerent as their vulgar was creative.
Sitting on the tailgate of a work truck, below them a pile of broken glass. Heckles and shouts were discouraging many from walking inside.
After successfully scaring off some city business types, the group next turned their sights to Nacho and Shelby, slinging anything they could think of at them.
One particular phrase directed at Nacho was so obscene it actually made her take pause.
But Nacho straightened and put his arm around her, holding her close, and physically putting himself between her and the hecklers. He was cold confidence, like these were nothing but trivial school children.
Shelby felt safe nestled under the crook of his arm, and enjoyed the secondary assurance that came from being so dearly protected by him.
As the group spat at their feet, Nacho confidently strode past them and into the building.
Inside The Copper Spool was marginally more put together than the outside. The floors were made from a patchwork of plywood if there was even a flooring over the same gravel and sand that made up the rest of the ground in the area.
The bar must have experienced massive growth from their new cook overnight. Tables and seats seemed to be crammed into whatever space was available.
And each one was full.
At one side of the warehouse building was the bar and a wall of barrels for tap. Beside it, the small kitchen suffered the same problem as the seating where new appliances and countertops were crammed into a space that was never intended to house such a high volume.
Along almost every surface of the walls were a smattering of reclaimed neon signs. Most of them didn't light up fully and the collection of each of their words' only partial illumination made it look like the bar had its own made up language on display.
Where there weren't benches or stools or spools for sitting, there were at least twenty pool tables. Obviously recycled and rescued from the dump. Most didn't have all four matching legs, and various repairs of duct tape streaked across the felt tables like lightning bolts. Pool cues were of varying lengths and colors, and it looked like the balls had been sloppily repainted or drawn on in order to make each table have a full set.
Upon seeing the overcrowded nature of the room, Shelby's heart fell a little bit. "It's so busy in here. We're never going to get a beer, let alone get a table to eat."
Nacho seemed unperturbed and tightened his grip around her shoulder and strode forward. His eyes were locked onto something near the back corner and he weaved them through the pool tables towards it.
He stopped at a table where two guys were about to start playing.
The balls were still racked in the triangle shape and one of the players was about to break.
Nacho stood there wordlessly until the one doing his shot was tapped on the shoulder by the other.
Surprised recognition crossed both their faces. One looked like the older brother of the other. But neither could have been older than twenty five.
"Sir, did you just get here? There's no reason you should wait. Here." The older one immediately held the pool cue out for Nacho to take. "You can take our table if you like."
Nacho took it and held it at his side, his gaze flicked to the younger brother and he raised his eyebrows expectantly.
The younger one looked at his feet. "Aww man. We waited an hour for this." He reluctantly handed the stick to Nacho and immediately slumped away.
The older one still looked at Nacho, beaming. His wide smile taking up a majority of his skinny face. "It's my pleasure, Sir. Can I get you anything else? It's on me."
"Gracias, Guillermo." Nacho palmed the stick thoughtfully. "Wings, beer– nothing watered down, and anything else on the menu that you think looks good." He turned to Shelby, "anything else?"
Shelby rocked back on her heels, unsure what to make of the interaction. She shrugged and added playfully. "As long as the wings are spicy, I'm good."
The man turned on his heel and hustled through the crowd towards the bar.
Nacho held out the stick to her. "You want to break?" He asked so casually, like he didn't just muscle two people from a table.
Shelby hesitantly took it. "I would have been okay waiting."
"Guillermo and Miggy owe me more than a few favors." Nacho shrugged, his voice flat.
The place was so crowded, and even though it was pretty sweet to get set up so quick, she did feel a little bad it came at the expense of someone else's fun. She leaned on the pool stick, lips pursed. "He's not actually going to pay for our food right?"
Nacho tilted his head as he examined her. Studying her face for a long moment as he thought. "Does it really bother you that much?"
Shelby raised her shoulders up while still gripping the cue. "Kindof yeah. Unless you want to invite them to play with us?" She didn't really want a pair of strangers in on their date, but she also didn't want to be rude.
He breathed out sharply through his nose. "Okay. I'll make it right."
Shelby perked up with a smile and strode over to him. She pulled up to her tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."
Nacho looked at the floor in thought for a long moment before turning his attention to her.
Shelby leaned over the table, held the cue in her hands the only way she'd ever seen it done, and gave the triangle of balls a whack as hard as she could.
Hitting more of the top of the cue ball, her efforts were largely in vain. The pack of balls shifted but mostly stayed clumped together.
A little embarrassed she turned to Nacho with a playful grimace. "I told you I've only played a few times. Maybe you should start us off."
To Nacho's credit he didn't laugh at her, nor did he go into 'let me tell you how it's done' mode. He silently got the table ready for play.
Just like at the mechanics yard before, she loved watching his hands. Strong and assured, he re-racked the balls, organizing them in some semblance of order, and positioned them just so on the table.
She took a step towards him, watching the way he held the cue, and it against the table as he prepared his shot. Taking mental notes to try and replicate it the best she could.
He snapped the cue like the strike of a snake and the balls made a responding clap and clatter as they scattered over the table.
Two of the striped balls went into the pockets and he stood, a hint of a satisfied smile on his lips.
"Okay then." She stepped forward to look at the table morse closely. "I'll stop going so easy on you. Prepare to lose, Ignacio."
At this, Nacho let out a little smile and stood the cue next to him, resting his hand around it. "I'm prepared to lose a lot more to you."
Shelby bit her lip as she examined the table. No idea how to proceed.
Nacho was eying the bar area, scanning his eyes back and forth slowly.
She moved towards him and stood right in front of him, facing the table and nudging him back. "Excuse me, you're in my shot."
He politely took a few steps to the side. But his attention was still on the bar.
Shelby stood in front of him again, nudging him back again. "Excuse me, Sir."
Nacho furrowed his brow slightly and looked down at her.
She gave a playful smirk and looked back up at him. "I'm just trying to find my shot."
Nacho took several steps away, but she was creeping behind him, right on his heels. He turned around and she was ready to slide in front of him again.
She moved in at the right time and pressed her back up against him. Leaning forward pretending to line up a shot. "I said, excuse me."
He stifled a laugh. "Porque?"
Shelby straightened back up and pointed to her temple with a bob of her eyebrows. "I'm gonna get inside your head."
Nacho leaned his pool cue on the table, and gently clasped his hands around her waist.
She let him steer her around to the corner of the table and set her in place.
He leaned up behind her, putting his face right beside hers to make their eye line even and pointed to the table. "Four, corner pocket, that's your shot."
He took a step back and gestured to the table for her to proceed.
"Obviously." She jested and leaned forward, attempting to put her hands how she'd seen him do it, and despite lining up her shot for what felt like way too long, still dinked it off the top and the cue ball rolled lazily into the side pocket.
Her pride stung for a moment and she didn't think she'd actually be this terrible.
"Would you like to try again?" Nacho offered lightly.
"No no, that's okay. I'm just letting you win the first round." She walked over and plucked out the white ball from the pocket and held it out to him. "Once we put money down… that's when the shark comes out."
"Obviously." He said, mirroring her aloof tone. He placed the cue and sank another striped ball easily.
"All part of the plan." Shelby sighed through her nose and looked at the table indecisively.
Nacho walked to the other side and gently placed his hand on the edge. His finger briefly pointed to a yellow ball sitting close to a pocket, then retracted.
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too." She confidently strode over to it and lined up her shot. Thankfully the ball rolled in, even if it took its time doing so. She beamed up at him, and he returned a soft proud smile.
Nacho eyed the table thoughtfully and lined up a shot. But didn't go. He stopped, considered the move for a moment before walking to a different position. He lined up and hit one of hers and one of his in.
"You playing my game for me is worse." She looked at him flatly.
Nacho nodded, looking at the floor. "Okay, fair enough. Sorry."
The music overhead was in between songs and the noise of the bar around them was really apparent now. There was a shouting match around the table by the entrance and more than a few crashes of broken bottles came from outside.
Nacho pulled his head up, he reflexively stepped towards her. Placing a protective hand on her shoulder, his eyes swept over the room.
After a minute he seemed satisfied in what he saw, or didn't see, and turned his attention back to her.
Shelby took a step forward, closing the distance between them. She looked up and raised a shoulder casually. "So, let's say I could use some tips. What should I do?"
He squared up his shoulders to her and said sarcastically. "I'm not sure I want to lose."
"Pshh," Shelby smirked back at him. "You're right. You couldn't handle it." She turned back to the table and bent over to line up a shot for whatever ball seemed easiest.
Hands moved over hers and she felt Nacho's presence shift up behind her. And she enjoyed the feeling of budding right up against his sturdy frame.
Arms around her, he gently corrected her left hand. "Most beginners hold it too tightly, you want it to be relaxed, but controlled."
Warm athletic hands cupped around hers but delicately moved her fingers into position.
She turned her head just enough to get a glimpse of his face.
Deep concentration shown in his dark eyes.
"Pay attention." He said, his voice hushed yet commanding.
Shelby turned back to watching his other hand. His face was right behind her, she could feel his breath on her ear.
"Now hold your other hand like this, and you want to move more fluidly." He demonstrated the motion with her.
"And what about my hips?" She said in a sultry voice and waggled them playfully against him.
He stiffened, taking in a quick sharp breath through his nose. His grip tightened over her hands around the cue. Not in an aggressive way, but like he was keeping himself in check.
She turned just her head to look back at him through batted eyelashes.
Nacho was clenching his jaw. He licked his lips and it was obvious he was biting back a smile.
"I knew it. It's the most important part." She teased and leaned back, pressing her body back against his.
Squeezing her hands again as he leaned into her, there was something thrilling about feeling all of him pressed up behind her.
As if he could sense her change in energy, his left hand squeezed around hers, but his right one left its position. Moving to her waist, his grip slowly dragged down to her hip, before gently squeezing and pulling her back into himself.
Her mind briefly flashed to grabbing his hand and running back to his car. He could take her right there in the darkened parking lot. Hot and carnal and a little derelict, like if they were teenagers again.
But the fantasy was interrupted by the fast motion of his arm, going back to the cue, shooting the shot for her, and knocking the ball in with an aggressive clatter.
He abruptly pulled back and cleared his throat. "Just like that." His attention whipped to the side.
"Here ya go!" Guillermo stood before them, he placed a small metal bucket full of ice and beers at Nacho's feet. "The food is going to take a while."
Shelby stood up straight and smiled at him. "Thanks so much!"
Nacho reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill fold. After counting what was way over the amount due, he handed Guillermo the bills.
"Oh, no. It was my pleasure." Guillermo smiled back uncomfortably, not taking the money.
"It's from her. So don't thank me." Nacho said coolly and placed the bills in Guillermo's chest pocket.
The man looked over at Shelby with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks." Then he turned on his heel and hustled away towards the kitchen again.
Nacho held out a beer to her, then took one for himself. "Cheers." He clinked it lightly against hers.
"Cheers." She took a sip. It was cold and refreshing, as an evening beer should be.
Nacho took a second sip from the bottle before placing it back in the bucket to take his turn.
He examined the board, yet didn't take the shot that was the most obvious to her. He leaned over the table and though he didn't sink a ball, seemed to be satisfied at the turn.
"Please don't lose on purpose." Shelby eyed him over the rim of her bottle.
He looked at her, his sharp brown eyes lingered on her for a long moment. "I'm not."
Shelby rolled her shoulders back as she walked up to the table. "Well, good." She said curtly and took another sip. Then another one, determined to delay her turn as much as possible.
Not necessarily eager to lose, or to give up the table once the game was done.
She had an idea as part of getting Nacho back for his stunt in the car. To be as tantalizing as possible, she waited until she was sure he was looking at her to bend over, more straight legged than necessary, to put the beer back in the ice.
Then standing back up she dropped a hip, leaning against the pool cue and did an exaggerated, "Hmm, hmm, hmm." Tapping her finger to her lips in thought.
"You can't stall forever." He hadn't moved and his gaze was transfixed. His eyes dragged up the length of her, examining her thoughtfully. Though whatever thoughts were in his mind, his face was contemplative and stoic.
"Can't I?" Shelby said over her shoulder, then added as coyly as she could. "Perhaps I just need another lesson."
Slowly he strode over to her, eyeing the table tactfully. As his steps closed in behind her, she could feel his presence. He stopped once he was right up behind her.
He rested a hand on her waist and she could feel the heat radiating off him.
Leaning forward he brought his head down beside hers, talking low just behind her ear. "What shot is next, but what's the shot after that one? You're setting up the next play just as much as you are playing this one."
Suddenly a crash came from the kitchen, and many workers surged to salvage what they could.
Nacho stood up straight, his gaze moving over the crowd again, then settled on Guillermo walking towards them, a large tray of wings, lots of fried variety, and a paper cup of celery and carrots.
He put the tray down on the corner of the table and looked at Nacho with a smile. "Is that all I can get for you?" The way he asked it was less about taking another order, and more about the hope of being dismissed.
Wordlessly Nacho waved him away and turned to the food.
Just beyond the chaos of the kitchen mess, Shelby could see Guillermo meet up with his brother, they exchanged what looked like heated words, then they promptly left together.
Shelby examined the food tray and took a small fried something. It was strangely shaped and there were only two on the tray. Hoping for the best, she popped it in her mouth. Crunchy and spicy on the outside, and juicy and fluffy on the inside; she leaned backwards in delightful surprise. "That's amazing!" She picked up the other one and held it out to Nacho. "You have to try it. And then we need to order about ten more."
Nacho pursed his mouth closed leaning his head back to get a better look. "What is it?"
"Your abs won't go away if you have one cheat day. Come on!" She held it up to his mouth.
He tentatively opened his mouth and allowed her to place the food inside.
She watched in giddy anticipation as he bit down and chewed.
Nacho's eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise and he looked at her with a nod. "You're right. I don't know what it is either. But pretty good."
She picked up a buffalo wing and said before taking a bite. "Are you a drumstick or wing guy?"
"Doesn't matter." Nacho picked up a drum stick and was about to take a bite when something caught his attention behind her.
"Hey. If you're going to eat, get the fuck off the table." A man with a gruff arrogant voice called out.
Shelby turned to face him, wing still in her mouth. It burned in the best way and even this guy's crummy attitude couldn't dampen her spirits.
He was a biker type, wearing a leather vest with a few patches, and the three guys standing behind him wore similar matching regalia. They were holding a beer or a woman in each hand, and looked like they were ready and eager to start a fight.
"Good thing there's other tables for you." Nacho said cooly, and casually took another bite of the wing.
The biker chortled and called Nacho a terrible slur for anyone South of the border.
Nacho's nose flared briefly, but his face resolved into the stoic concrete wall he had perfected. He deliberately placed the wing back on the tray, then squared up his shoulders as he licked the sauce from his thumb, sizing the group up as he did.
The biker stroked his graying beard with a meaty hand, meeting Nacho's intimidation head on. "Nothing to say, Amigo? Good thing you're leaving."
Nacho tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck. Then clasping his hands gently behind himself as he rolled his shoulders back.
Shelby swallowed hard. The good time buzz was thoroughly wiped away.
Onlookers from the surrounding tables had stopped their own games in order to watch.
Nacho narrowed his eyes as he looked at the gruff stranger with a tilted head, his voice was cold steel. "What happens if I don't?"
Two of the men in the biker gang let out a haughty laugh. One handed his beer to the adjacent girl to hold.
She rolled her eyes as she took it, then walked away with the other women. Making their disdain for the interaction louder than necessary.
"It's fine, let's just go." Shelby quickly picked up the bucket and tray. Thoroughly unimpressed by this blatant brandishing of testosterone. "We got our food, which is the reason we came. We can find somewhere else."
"What happens? Well, since your brain got cooked in the sun from your long walk over the border, let me make it simple for you." The biker folded his arms, a smug sneer spread across his face. "We're taking your table. And you can leave here with or without the stick up your ass."
The muscle in Nacho's jaw tensed and he strode forward, his boots clunking with each slow step on the plywood floor. He stopped when he had put himself between Shelby and the group of intruders.
Shelby's mouth started to go dry and she swallowed several times before she was able to articulate. "Please. This really isn't worth it."
"Yeah, listen to your bitch." The biker taunted.
Nacho remained unmoved, but at that moment something about him invisibly shifted. "You have one chance to apologize."
The biker leaned forward, laughing open mouthed in Nacho's face.
Sensing what was about to go down, Shelby stepped forward, her voice was calm and coaxing. "Please. Can we just go?"
Nacho took a sharp breath in his nose. Without taking his eyes off the men he said in a low voice. "Okay. Let's go."
Shelby breathed a sigh of relief and walked away from the table. "Great. Cause I want to eat these wings while they're still hot." But after looking around the bar, there really wasn't anywhere decent to post up or even a flat surface to put down the tray. "What about we just go back and eat in the car?"
Nacho's eyes were dark daggers, boring into the man who had uprooted them.
"Alright. Game time decision, let's just go eat in the car." She started walking towards the door.
But Nacho didn't break his gaze from the man as he took the heavy bucket from Shelby's hand, or on their entire walk out of the bar.
Once they were in the parking lot it was noticeable how stagnant and greasy the air had been inside. A cool breeze passed over them and it seemed to clear the air as much as their minds.
Nacho rolled his shoulders back and with his free hand, put it around her as they walked out over the gravel.
Once they reached the car, he set the bucket of beers down. He took the tray from her and set it down on one side of the trunk.
Then he put his hands around her waist and hoisted her up to sit beside the food.
He stood close beside her, keeping a watchful eye on the door.
The food was amazing, far better than such a crappy bar deserved, and if it wasn't so far out of the way to get here, she'd consider coming once a week.
The sun was just about set over the city and large swaths of orange and red clouds streaked over the deep blue sky.
They enjoyed the meal in relative silence and by the time the food was done, Nacho seemed in better spirits.
A stiff breeze tore through the parking lot and didn't relent.
The buildings all rattled, and their pieces of metal thrummed against the wind sounding like a hundred horses galloping by.
Without skipping a beat, Nacho took off his jacket and offered it to her.
"Aren't you going to take your gun out?" She jested before putting it on.
"My gun isn't in my jacket." He said flatly.
The comment made her briefly take pause, once again never sure if he was joking or not. "Is that because you envisioned your jacket getting tossed on the floor of my bedroom later?" The comment slipped out, more brash than she'd usually say, but not because she hadn't meant it.
The tiniest hint of a smile crossed his lips briefly. "Maybe. Among other things." He added nonchalantly and downed the final swig of his beer.
She cozied up in his coat, the leather was worn and soft, and smelled distinctly of his cologne. Closing her eyes a moment as she breathed it in and cuddled up under his outstretched arm.
He leaned towards her, burying his face in her hair and holding himself there for an extended moment.
He squeezed her close as the final sunlight faded.
Even as comfortable as this moment was, Shelby couldn't help but shiver. Without the sun, the night was chilling fast. "I have some more firewood if you want to come over?" She offered.
"I got my hot tub fixed if you want to come over." Nacho added and leaned down to look at her.
"Mmm, yours wins." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before hopping down.
Nacho picked up the bucket, dumping the melted ice water on the practically shriveled remains of a nearby plant. He turned back to the bar and his eyes narrowed. "I'll go take it back."
"I can just drive you." She opened the door, but when she turned back he was already striding back to the building.
Shelby got in, started the car quickly and began pulling out of the spot.
In the rear view mirror she could see Nacho, making his way towards the building, taking a longer route than necessary to the door, walking just past the cluster of bikers.
"You've got to be kidding me." She turned the car around quickly. But with no delineated spots, there weren't clearly defined rows of parking and the way over to him was a long serpentine route.
Nacho walked up to the door of the bar, tossed the bucket and tray into a haphazard stack of other buckets and trays and began walking back towards where the car had been.
Once he walked past the biker crew again, they took notice.
Shelby anxiously watched as she pulled the car closer.
They got up from their seated positions on their bikes. Obviously about to leave, but they decided staying to talk to Nacho was more appealing.
Nacho straightened, and said something she couldn't hear.
At this, the gang fully dismounted and swaggered towards him.
One reaching his hand behind him.
Shelby rolled closer until she was right beside where they were parked.
The head lights shone over the chrome of their bikes and illuminated the ground in front of them with harsh long shadows.
She rolled down her window and called out. "Seriously?" But her attention was caught by the headlights gleaming off something new.
The biker closest to her was sneering at Nacho, and reached behind him. A gleaming silver barrel of a gun flashed from under his shirt and he wrapped his hand around the grip.
Pulling out the gun he moved with cold intentionality and pointed it at Nacho.
Without time to think, Shelby slammed her foot on the gas. Barreling into the man with the gun.
The Javelin smashed into him with vigorous force and he was launched up the hood and into the windshield.
Two small cracks formed upon impact. One from where the gun smacked the glass, the other, from his head.
A panicked little scream escaped her as she came to. The reality of what she'd done slammed into her like the car she'd just run over someone with, and her white knuckle grip on the steering wheel refused to give way.
Stunned, the gang whipped around to see what had just happened, shock and bewilderment on their faces.
Her gaze went to Nacho, who couldn't have looked more proud.