Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Like what?” Her hands had idly moved up the center of my back and were currently brushing lightly against the hair at my nape. I didn’t even think she realized she was doing it.
“Tell ’em your man’s mother died.”
She looked at me blankly for a moment before her mouth dropped open, and she laughed. A real laugh. “That’s so fucked up.”
“Not a lie.”
“You’re not my man.”
“All right, stretchin’ the truth a bit.”
“It’s crazy. The whole idea is crazy,” she mumbled. I could tell she was considering it, though.
“We’ll leave tonight,” I said, running my thumb back and forth gently along the side of her thigh. “Send ’em an email.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
I just grinned. It wasn’t a true question. She knew exactly how the garage worked—which is where she assumed I spent most of my time. There wasn’t a single person who would blink at me taking off on my bike for a week or two.
“I—yeah,” she breathed, closing her eyes for a moment as her shoulders slumped. She opened them again. “If you’re sure?”
“Fuck yeah,” I said immediately. “Let’s do it.”
“I need to pack.”
“Pack light.”
“I’ll try,” she hedged.
“No tryin’,” I replied with a chuckle. “We’re on the bike. You need to fit your shit in a backpack.”
“You have saddlebags.”
“Woman, where the hell do you think I’m supposed to put my shit if the saddlebags are full of your shit?”
“Good point,” Frankie said.
“You already look a little better,” I muttered, reaching up to run a finger under her jaw. “Tension along here is gone.”
“I’m going to get a complex if you keep talking about how horrible I look.”
“No, you won’t,” I scoffed. “You know you’re gorgeous—just need to get some sleep and eat a fucking meal.”
“Why do you even care?” she asked, her voice small.
“I care about you.”
“Since when?”
“Probably since that night you wiped out and hit your head on the corner of the pool table, and it knocked you out for a couple seconds.”
“That was like two years ago.”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never given any indication—” she stopped and swallowed hard. “Right.”
“We weren’t in the right place then.”
“Are we in the right place now?”
“No, but we’ll get there.”
Someone knocked and tried to open the door.
“What?” I barked, irritated that they were interrupting us. Frankie shook with a silent laugh.
“Food’s out,” my dad called through the door. “Tell Frankie to put her pants back on, that girl needs to eat somethin’.”
“Fuck me,” Frankie groaned, dropping her head to my shoulder.
“Might be a while,” I called out jokingly.
“Yeah, in your dreams, kid,” my dad replied with a laugh.
“I cannot believe you just said that,” Frankie said, jerking to her feet.
The skin on her neck and jaw was bright red.
“He was jokin’,” I assured her as I stood. “And he knew I was.”
She took a deep breath and set her shoulders before letting it out, her chin tipped up. “Okay, let’s go eat.”
“And then you’ll head home to pack?”
“I rode with Lou, but I’ll see if she can run me home really quick.”
“That works.” I walked over and unlocked the door, swinging it open. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“We could just leave tomorrow,” she hedged as she walked into the hallway.
“We plan for tomorrow, and you won’t sleep tonight,” I said, already knowing exactly how it would go. “And by mornin’, you’ll be full of reasons we shouldn’t go.”
“I would not,” she replied stubbornly.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I don’t have a helmet,” she said as we reached the main room of the clubhouse. It was packed with people getting food.
“I’ll grab Harp’s from my parents’ house.” Reaching out, I wrapped my hand gently around the back of her neck and pulled her toward me. Her hands hit my chest at the same moment that my lips touched her forehead. “Go eat. It’ll be hours before dinner.”
“I will.”
“Can’t have you passin’ out while we’re on the road.”
She glared at me. “I’m not going to pass out.”
“Eat, baby,” I ordered, pointing at the bar covered in food.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she retorted as she strode toward the end of the line.
I grinned and headed across the room, my expression falling.
“Grandson,” my Grandpa Dragon greeted, leaning back in his chair. I could’ve gone to anyone about the time off, but for the rest of it, I needed to speak to the President.
“I’m gonna be out for a week or two.”
“That right?”
“I’m takin’ Frankie out on the bike.”
“Looks like she needs it.”
“Asshole at work won’t leave her alone,” I said, keeping my voice low as I sat down across from him. “It’s gonna need to be handled while we’re gone.”
“Done. Set it up.” He watched me intently. “You don’t want to be here for it?”
“I’d kill him.”
Grandpa nodded in understanding.
“I’m not gonna wear my cut,” I said, holding his eyes. “Not sure where we’re goin’ or whose territory we’ll hit. Don’t wanna put her in the middle of anything that coulda been avoided.”