Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Excitement zinged through her as she gazed around the large, empty salon. She had big plans for the place, including setting up a small shop featuring locally sourced items. Last Saturday, she visited a farmers’ market where she met a vendor who made pet-safe shampoo and another who designed collars and harnesses. After exchanging contact information, they planned to meet to discuss her salon hosting their items.
“Okay,” she said over the sound of Olivia Rodrigo belting out from her phone. “That’s enough for today.” She’d spent the past six hours cleaning on her hands and knees, and every part of her body ached. She needed a bath, a glass of wine, and Saint’s magic hands rubbing her, well, anywhere.
As she peeled off her purple rubber gloves, she scanned the street through the front window. The location couldn’t be better. In the center of town, near many other shops, and only ten minutes from Saint’s house. She’d been shocked to find the place available. Every so often, someone would walk by and peer through the window. Screw helped her hang a coming-soon sign with the name and slogan they’d decided on.
Hell’s Hounds Clubhouse
Handling your best friend with the best care.
It was never too early to advertise. She hoped to have a full house at their grand opening in a few months, once they had all the proper permits and renovations completed.
As she was about to turn and grab the bucket of sudsy water to dispose of it, she caught sight of a couple strolling up the sidewalk. They were arm in arm, deep in conversation. A pang of longing speared through her chest. What she’d give to cling to Saint that way in public, to show the world he belonged to her and how proud she was of that fact.
“Someday,” she muttered. They just had to figure out how.
She took a few steps back from the window so she could watch them walk by without making her snooping so obvious. As soon as they walked in front of her window, she froze.
The woman stood closest to her shop, but her head was turned toward the man, so Beth could see only the back of her hair. Still, Beth would know those curls.
“Melody,” she whispered, taking another step back. The last thing she needed was to be accused of spying on the woman who already hated her. She shifted her gaze to Melody’s partner.
They locked eyes.
Beth gasped.
Demo appeared to be engaged in conversation with Melody, but he stared straight at her, his fiendish smirk sending a chill down her spine.
He was back in town.
Or maybe he’d never left.
What the fuck was he doing with Melody?
Did he know who she was? Was she a friend of the club? That she had a huge thing for Saint? Could that be why he’d sought her out, or was it all a huge coincidence? Melody probably had no idea the danger she was in, being caught in the middle between the MC and the dealers.
Demo pushed Melody’s back against the front window of the salon and kissed her.
Beth stood frozen, unable to move, as though doing so would make everything worse. He kept making out with Melody, but his eyes stayed open and on Beth the entire time. Her stomach swooped as a cold sweat broke out along her forehead.
This was bad.
Really-fucking-bad.
After a few moments, Demo ended the kiss. They spoke for a second, then separated. Demo walked back the way they’d come, while Melody continued up the street, though a little less steady than before, like a woman who’d been kissed well and good.
“Shit,” Beth muttered. “What do I do? What do I do?”
She crept toward the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible. As she poked her head out an inch, she caught sight of Demo turning down the nearest side street, out of sight. She whipped her head around the other way, where Melody continued walking, maybe floating, up the sidewalk.
Without giving herself time to think, Beth rushed out the door and jogged up the street. “Mel,” she called as she got closer. “Melody, wait up! Oh fuck.” She tripped over an uneven crack in the road and stumbled. She windmilled her arms as she kept moving forward, trying not to hit the ground.
She plowed into Melody, catching her to stabilize herself.
“What the fuck, Beth?” Melody shook her off and stepped away with an expression of disbelief.
“Sorry.” Beth panted and raised her hands. “I tripped.” Her chest heaved, and her heart galloped like a greyhound as she tried to catch her breath. “I need to work out more.”
“What do you want?” Melody stepped back, putting distance between them as she crossed her arms. She looked beautiful as usual in a short, fitted athletic dress that clung to her every curve.
“Um…” Maybe she should have thought this through.