Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I carried her into the kitchen and found Brayden standing at the counter, making himself a bite to eat. I put Anslee in her highchair, and I’d just placed a handful of Cheerios on her tray when Brayden announced, “I made coffee.”
“Thank goodness. I’m gonna need all the caffeine this morning.”
“I figured,” he chuckled under his breath.
I started making my coffee, and Brayden used the opportunity to pull a chair in front of Anslee and said, “Whatcha got there, kiddo?”
She grabbed a handful of cereal and offered it to him, and without even thinking, he leaned forward and opened his mouth, letting her shove several pieces inside. He started chomping down and smiled, “Not too bad.”
He tore off a bite from his peanut butter and banana sandwich and offered it to her, “Wanna try mine?”
Anslee grabbed it from his hand and stuffed it in her mouth. Brayden laughed and took another bite for himself, never once looking in my direction. Somewhere between Anslee's giggles and the quiet smile that spread across his face it hit me. He wasn’t putting on a show. He wasn’t trying to prove something. He was simply being Brayden.
Always patient and gentle, even at times like these when he was eager to get to the clubhouse and figure out what was going on with those photographs. But that was Brayden.
He loved without restraint, and it was impossible not to love him right back.
I started putting Anslee’s day bag together, and before I had a chance to catch my breath, we were on our way to the daycare. I barely remember walking through the front door. I passed Anslee over to Janey before kissing her on the forehead and saying, “Have a great day, peanut. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Sensing something was wrong, her brows furrowed, and she reached her arms out to me, begging me to take her back. “Mama.”
“It’s okay. Mama will be back before you know it.”
I kissed her once more, then rushed for the door. My stomach was in knots, once again. I tried to keep my tears at bay as I opened the door and got back into the SUV. Concerned, Brayden looked over to me and asked, “You good?”
“I’m trying to be.”
“It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
Neither of us spoke much on the way to the clubhouse. I spent most of the drive twisting my fingers together, trying my best not to imagine the worst. I was managing, right up until we pulled up to a large, metal gate and two men in leather motioned us through.
When I looked up and saw the clubhouse, my nerves went into overdrive. It wasn’t just some little place where these guys hung out. An enormous building sat behind a ten-foot metal fence that lined the entire property, making it look more like something meant to keep people out than welcome them in.
Motorcycles lined the parking lot, and men wearing Fury cuts moved with quiet purpose. Suddenly, this whole biker world didn't seem nearly as small as I'd imagined. Brayden climbed out of the SUV and walked around to open my door.
He extended his hand to me as he asked, “You ready?”
“Not even a little.”
“I’m right here. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“You actually hang out in this place?”
“It’s not as intimidating as you might think.”
“Oh, no. I think it’s exactly as intimidating as it’s meant to be.”
I laughed nervously as I slipped my hand in his, feeling grateful I had something solid to hold onto as we started for the door. We stepped inside the bar, and all conversations stopped, heads turned, and all eyes landed on me. I immediately recognized several of the men from the pictures.
Preacher. Shepard. Ghost. Goose.
Their names had stuck with me after seeing them on the back of the photographs. They seemed intense in the images, but not nearly as intense as they seemed in person.
They didn’t look angry or suspicious.
Just serious.
I tightened my grip around Brayden’s hand, and he leaned in and whispered, “I’ve got you.”
We walked up to the group, and the older man with gray hair smiled and said, “You must be Brooke.”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“I’m Preacher. It’s good to meet you.”
“Good to meet you, too.”
“Smit sent Shep some images last night, and from my understanding, you were the one who discovered them?”
“Yes.”
It was strange to hear him refer to Brayden as Smit. He’d told me about them each having a road name and how they were chosen by the brothers. He’d laughed when he told me Goose had come up with it because he was one of their best mechanics, and while he wasn’t sure it fit, the brothers were and continued to call him by the name.
Another man stepped forward and extended his hand. He had dark hair, a lean build, and looked to be in his late thirties. He gave me a warm smile as he announced, “Hey, Brooke… I’m Shep.”