Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Hey, pretty mama. Heard a lot about you.”
“Give Eddie your keys.”
“What? No.”
York shot me a smile. “He’s going to take your car to the shop. Your brakes need work.” He mumbled something else under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out. “This is the perfect time to get them worked on.”
“You’re a mechanic?” I asked Eddie.
“Work at a repair and parts shop and everything,” Eddie said.
“I promise he will bring it back,” York said. “Better than he left with it, too.”
I was being overprotective about it. But it was my literal means to escape in case life went sideways again. That being said, things were stable. I could let it go for a few hours.
“Well, thank you, Eddie,” I said, passing him my keys. “And you,” I said to York, who shrugged that right off.
“You sure you got everything you need out of the car?” Eddie asked. “No stray stuffed animal under the seat?”
“Nope. We’re all set.”
With that, Eddie was off with our car, and we were following York around the back of the house where not only was there a built-in pool, but also a giant inflatable TV. It was too bright to see anything on it, but music played from a speaker somewhere.
“What’s that?” Denny asked, pointing toward a rock-enclosed area.
“That is where the tortoise lives. Tortoises are menaces. He broke out of every other enclosure until we used those big rocks.”
“Can I see him?”
“You can feed him. He loves eating those flowers out front.”
“I’ll get some!” Denny said, excited.
“Be quick,” I demanded, trying not to helicopter her, but hating when she was out of sight for more than a minute.
“I should have asked about the car instead of demanded,” York said when we were alone.
“It’s fine. I appreciate it. I noticed the brakes being a little less touchy. And I want Denny in a safe car.”
“Me too.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you married?”
“Married?” He barked out a laugh. “No.”
“Why do you have swimmies then?”
“They’re for the club kids.”
“The club kids,” I repeated.
“Did you somehow miss the motorcycles out front?”
I’d noticed them, but until right that second, it hadn’t clicked.
He was a biker. As in, he belonged to a biker club. And this house…
“This is your clubhouse?” I asked, turning to look at the two-story home. “Every biker club I’ve ever seen has been a bar or something like that.”
“The president wanted members to be able to live here before they move out when they settle down.”
That explained it.
“You live here.”
“Yep. It’s just me, Velle, and Dixon now.”
“Dixon. Was that the one weeding the flowerbed all… unnecessarily sexily?”
He chuckled at that, and the sound had desire curling through me once again.
“That’s Dixon. He puts on a show for the old lady book club across the street.”
“That makes more sense than weeding while standing upright. So, what kind of club is this? I’ve never seen you with your cut on.” So I had no idea what kind of patches might be on it.
“When we met, I had a gun and knives on me,” he reminded me.
“Yeah.” So he was a one-percenter. “I don’t want my daughter around drugs.”
“We don’t deal drugs. We deal in weapons. And all of them are safely hidden. There are a lot of club kids around here.”
I nodded at that. “How dangerous is your job?”
“I’m not going to lie and say it’s as safe as if I were an accountant. But to be honest, most of the danger that the club faces these days comes from the women who blow into our lives.”
“I got all the colors!” Denali declared, saving me from a very awkward moment.
So then she and her father fed the tortoise before making their way to the pool. I sat back and watched him blow up the swimmies, then wet them so he could push them up her little arms.
Then… then he pulled off his damn shirt.
I was glad to be sitting on the chaise where I could cross my legs to ease the immediate ache I felt as my gaze drifted over the muscles I knew better than I knew him as a person. How they tensed when I ran my fingers over them, how he let out a little growl when I traced the lines that disappeared into the waistband of his pants. How he’d pulled me up by my hair when I’d slid my tongue between those same muscles.
Unfortunately, it was in the middle of that memory that York’s gaze flicked over, staring at me, no doubt reading the desire on my face.
For a moment, he froze, and all we could do was look, remember, and, yes, want.
“Daddy, come on,” Denny demanded, holding out her hand.
The spell broken, he moved down the pool steps with Denali. I got a few moments on the chaise to reason with my body before Denny called me and asked me to come in too.