Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
"You handled that well," he murmured, his face inches from mine. "Most women would've buckled under that kind of pressure."
I swallowed hard, acutely aware of how close he was, how that scent of leather, soap, and something uniquely Jack wrapped around me. "I grew up on a farm with a sickly mother and a workaholic father. When Mom couldn’t, I cooked for everyone, including the work hands. Takes more than a few hungry men to scare me."
His lips curved into a genuine smile, transforming his harsh features into something that made my heart stutter. "You're full of surprises, Honey."
The way he said my name, like it was something precious to be savored, sent heat pooling low in my belly. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and he leaned in closer, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face.
"Jack," I whispered, not sure if I was asking him to stop or begging him to continue.
His lips hovered just above mine, his breath warm against my skin. I closed my eyes, surrendering to this magnetic pull between us…
The crack of gunshots shattered the moment. Jack jerked back, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant from desire to deadly focus. "Fucking Copperheads," he snarled, already moving away. "Stay inside. Find Wren if you need anything." With those barked orders, he was gone, leaving me pressed against the wall with my heart pounding and my lips still tingling from a kiss that never happened.
* * *
"You know, mac and cheese is sacred in this clubhouse. Fuck it up and they'll vote you out faster than if you were a rat." Wren’s purple hair was pulled up in a messy bun, tendrils escaping to frame her face as she demonstrated the proper stirring technique with exaggerated movements. After yesterday's gunfire — which turned out to be warning shots from the Copperheads testing our defenses — the kitchen felt like the safest place in the compound since the windows were high up and the outside walls were framed in concrete blocks.
"I've been making mac and cheese since I was tall enough to reach the stove," I protested. “Besides, this is my mother’s recipe. Guaranteed to please.”
"OK. But you’re competing against Ghost’s grandma. And that’s a pretty fuckin’ high bar, girl." Wren grinned, as I added another handful of freshly shredded cheese to the bubbling mixture. "Also, keep in mind, the secret weapon for keeping these assholes in line is Ghost’s grandma’s mac and cheese. They'll do anything for a second helping, including shanking Jack with a shiv. True story."
I wiped my hands on the apron Wren had found for me. The black material had the club's emblem stitched across the front. Now it sported no small amount of flour on the sides where I’d brushed my off my hands several times. The kitchen around us was organized chaos, every surface covered with ingredients or cooking vessels. We'd been at it for hours, preparing what Wren called a "proper club feast."
"Brisket's almost done," I said, checking the smoker just outside the kitchen for easy access. "Beans, too."
"Perfect." Wren clapped her hands in excitement, her smile going practically from ear to ear. These guys might act tough, but they want their comfort food made with love, just like everyone else."
The cheese sauce thickened to the perfect consistency and I added the noodles before mixing everything together, adding the last of the cheese, then putting the whole thing in the oven. “How long have you lived here?” It wasn’t my business but I really liked the other woman and wanted to get to know her better.
Wren hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs as she sipped from a beer. "Ghost took me in as his ward when I was thirteen. Back then, I couldn't boil water without burning it.” She shrugged. “Necessity is the mother of invention and the Internet provides all the instruction you need. Always thought knowing how to feed people was as important as knowing how to shoot."
"Can you? Shoot, I mean."
Wren's laugh was sharp and bright. "Better than most of the prospects. Ghost made sure of it." She tilted her head, studying me. "Jack will teach you too, once things settle down."
The thought of Jack teaching me to handle a gun sent an unexpected thrill through me. Same as the thought I’d be leaving once things “settled down” made me unexpectedly sad, anxious even. He hadn't returned to the room last night, and I'd only glimpsed him briefly this morning, deep in conversation with several patched members.
"Tell me about him," I said, trying to sound casual as I stirred. "About Jack."
Wren's eyes gleamed with interest. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything? Everything?" I shrugged, embarrassed by my eagerness. "I mean, I'm supposed to be his old lady, but I barely know him. No matter if it’s only a short time, I’m still sharing this guy’s space. The least I can do is try to make an effort to make him more comfortable since he’s putting his club in front of me when I should never have been here in the first place.”