Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“God, you’re a real asshole.”
“I did what I had to do, and it’s working… So, did he tell you something or what?”
“Tell me something about what?”
“Anything,” he hissed. “The club’s money. A safe. A pay day?”
“No,” I huffed with irritation. “Why would he?”
“To brag.” His eyes skirted over me. “He knows girls like you are impressed by shit like that.”
“He wasn’t trying to impress me. I already told you.” Anger started to boil inside of me as I repeated, “He was just being nice.”
“You can’t be that stupid.”
“You know what. I’m done with this.” I threw my hands up. “I want no part of whatever you’re doing.”
I turned and started walking away from him, but he quickly grabbed me and yanked me back. “You’re not going anywhere. You need me. Your sister needs me.”
“No. We’ll figure something else out.” I jerked free from his hold. “I don’t know what, but not this. I won’t do this. Not anymore.”
I bolted past him and down the hall.
My heart was racing a mile a minute.
I had no idea what I was thinking. He was our only hope of getting our hands on that money, and I just basically told him to fuck off.
Damn. I really know how to make a mess of things.
I was literally shaking as I made my way out the side door and out to the parking lot. I dug my key fob from my back pocket, and once I’d unlocked the doors, I got inside. I was about to start the engine when Luke came up and tapped on my window. “What?”
“Open the door.” As soon as I complied, he ordered, “Slide over.”
“What?”
“You’ve been drinking. No way I’m gonna let you drive home.”
“You’ve been drinking, too.”
“I’ve had two beers. I’m fine.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, slide over, so I can drive you home.”
Oh, this wasn’t good.
This wasn’t good at all.
9
GOOSE
Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit two feet away from a beautiful woman who smelled like vanilla and honey and bad decisions and not put the moves on her? Because let me tell you, it’s a special kind of torture.
I couldn’t flirt with her.
I couldn’t touch her.
I couldn’t even look at her too long without feeling like I was betraying Davis, the clubhouse, and possibly the damn Constitution.
And before you say it, I know.
They broke up, or it looked like they broke up. It was hard to tell what was going on with them, but it was clearly heated. And Presley seemed pretty annoyed with my brother.
But it didn’t matter.
I wasn’t crossing that line. Period.
So, I kept my eyes on the road, my hands on the wheel, and my mouth shut—even when every fiber of my being was screaming for me to say something. And more than likely, it would be flirty and completely inappropriate, but it would make her smile instead of staring out that window like a wounded pup.
We were almost to her place when I finally risked a glance. It was quick, but it was clear from her expression that she was going through it. I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask, “Are you okay?”
She didn’t look at me right away. She just exhaled and gave the base of her scalp a slight scratch. “I’m fine. Just annoyed with myself.”
“For what?”
“For getting involved with Davis. I knew better.”
“You two really done or is this one of those ‘we’re just mad and will work through it’ kind of done?”
“Oh, no. We are done-done.”
Hearing her say that shouldn’t have made my chest tighten, but it did. I nodded, slow and easy, like I was being supportive and understanding. But in reality, I was sighing with relief. “Sounds like a final answer.”
“It shouldn’t have gone as far as it did.”
“Understood.”
I turned my attention back to the road, and while I had a hundred things I could’ve said, I remained silent. In fact, I didn’t say another word until we pulled up to her place and were standing at her front door.
The porch light illuminated her beautiful face, and when she looked up at me with those big, soulful eyes, it nearly knocked me off my feet.
She studied me for a moment.
And I mean studied, like she was trying to find the right words to say, weighing the consequences, and testing the air to see if it’s safe to say whatever’s on her mind. For a half second, I thought she was actually going to say it.
But then, she sighed and said, “Thanks for driving me home.”
“No problem.” I handed her the keys to her car, and as she took them from my hand, I told her, “If you ever need anything, you know where to reach me.”
“Thanks.” She hesitated, then asked, “Wait? How are you getting home?”
I motioned my head toward the street, and her worried expression softened when she spotted the black truck idling at the end of the drive. “I got a ride.”