Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Yesssss, coffee. It better be caffeinated.
With a moan, she rolled over, jerked her tank top back into place so her breasts were once again tucked safely inside—since sometime during the night they took a run for the border—and sat up. Pushing her messy hair out of her face, she inhaled that glorious scent again.
Please let it be caffeinated.
After rolling from the bed, she plucked her boxer briefs from between her ass cheeks. She must have slept restlessly last night. But then, it was a new place, a new bed and a new partner.
This morning she was glad she took the smaller room so she didn’t have to see herself in the ceiling mirror. She could only imagine she had dark circles under her eyes and looked like a zombie.
After leaving Fletch in the living room last night, she had stayed up a while to open the envelope and spread the contents over the bed to sort through them. She had tucked Sandra Douglas’s driver’s license into a small zippered wallet she had brought with her. Then read through info sheets so she knew, not only Sandra’s background, but Terry Parker aka Ghost’s.
She planned on skimming it again this morning to make sure she had their new identities down pat but not until her brain had been kick-started by coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.
The only thing she missed about being undercover with the Russos was their damn coffee. It was the best she ever drank. Once she was clear from that assignment, she tried to duplicate it but finally gave up. She doubted they’d appreciate her knocking on their door to beg for a cup.
In the bathroom, she muttered a “Jesus” when she saw her face in the mirror, quickly emptied her bladder and washed her face, then she followed the tempting scent, proving she could be lured anywhere with just a fresh cup of joe.
She was surprised to find the dining table set for two people.
Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all. To be sure, she’d reserve her final judgment once she had more concrete evidence.
When she entered the kitchen, he was doing something at the stove and as he moved, her eyes were drawn to his ass in those thin, gray nylon shorts.
Someone must do squats. And a lot of them.
Dragging her eyes away before she got caught ogling him, they landed on the coffeemaker next and the almost full pot of coffee.
Thank fuck. “Please tell me that has caffeine.”
“It does,” he answered, his voice gravelly from lack of use. He glanced over his shoulder and raked his gaze over her. “You normally sleep this late?”
Late? She spotted an old analog clock on the wall. It was eight. “What time were you up?”
“Six. Already went for a run, did fifty pull-ups and showered.”
He did what? Already? Hold up… That didn’t sound like normal activity for a biker. And the proof was how they looked in all of the videos she’d watched of various MCs. “Do bikers run?”
“From the law.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“I’m serious. Do you think it’s smart to be out,” she swung a hand toward the front door, “there jogging?”
“Probably not. I’ll take that into consideration. This club does own a gym, though. So apparently, some bikers don’t have an aversion to exercise.”
She grabbed the empty mug sitting next to the coffeemaker and filled it up almost to the brim. “The Angels own a gym?” She brought it to her lips and blew on it before risking a tiny sip to prevent it from spilling even one precious drop of the black gold over the edge.
Since coffee was her crack, that one little sip made her want to suck down the whole mug in one shot despite the fact she’d risk third degree burns down her throat. She forced herself to wait because that worker’s comp claim would be fun to explain.
He huffed out a breath. “Yeah. Surprising, right? One of their members and his ol’ lady runs it. Not everyone uses it but a lot of them do. Including Kat Callahan. Remember her?”
“No.”
“She used to be a champion MMA fighter.”
Nova knew nothing about MMA. “Used to be?”
“She retired from the cage. Now she teaches mixed martial arts classes to women and girls.”
“For self-defense?”
“That and to get them ready for competition. She’s also married to one of those Shadows.”
“Ah.” She sipped carefully at the still-steaming coffee and once that mouthful landed in her stomach, she sighed in satisfaction.
He used the spatula in his hand to point at a mug next to him on the counter. “Get me a refill?”
She nodded, but he had already turned back to the stove and began to serve food onto two plates sitting nearby.
“You know how to cook, huh?”
“I manage.”
She leaned closer to check out what he made. She was right. Crispy bacon and just as crispy hash browns along with a mountain of fluffy scrambled eggs. “Who went shopping?”