Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I swallowed roughly, glancing around the room. “Stop, Luke,” I whispered. “Because you keep talking like that, I might let you. And I don’t want you to get shot.”
His hand brushed over my ass. “Later,” he murmured, just as Lucky sauntered up, grinning, his arm around Bex.
“Well fucking well,” he said as greeting. “The white sheep of the family returns, and she brought a friend.” His eyes went to Luke. “More than friend. So it’s good I didn’t shoot you, isn’t it, buddy?” He was grinning, none of his previous distaste for Luke showing. It was as if he hadn’t been in this very clubhouse a year ago, about to be shot and arrested by Luke.
Lucky didn’t hold grudges.
I grinned, and so did Luke. “Yeah, I’d have to say I’m fuckin’ glad too,” Luke replied easily.
Seemed he didn’t hold grudges either.
The conversation was interrupted by Brock and Amy—or, more accurately, Amy.
“You little fucking bitch!” she yelled, yanking me out of Luke’s arm with a wink and into her cloud of Chanel No.5. She squeezed hard, then let me go. “I fucking knew this was going to happen,” she said confidently. “But I’m kind of disappointed. You didn’t blow anything up or get shot or anything during the courtship.” She frowned. “I expected more from you.”
I laughed. “The night’s still young.”
Brock yanked his wife back into his embrace. “For fuck’s sake, Sparky, don’t jinx shit like that,” he growled, kissing her head with a tenderness that didn’t match his gruff tone. “Perhaps we’ve had enough of that drama, thought of that?”
He squeezed her tight, as if he was scared her drama involving the father of the man I shot last year was going to rise from the grave and almost kill Amy a second time.
Though even flesh-eating zombies would have a hard—try impossible—time snatching Amy away again.
She rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as too much drama, right, Bex?”
Bex grinned, toying with Lucky’s wedding ring. “Oh, I don’t know. I’d say car bombs and shootings are quite enough drama.” Her eyes went faraway for a second, the year anniversary of that drama fast approaching. The day I shot someone. The day we lost Scott. It hit her hard, that loss. Cracked the pieces she’d only just put back together.
Lucky sensed it, as the men seemed to do, understanding their women’s distress. He tilted her head up and kissed her on the nose. “Love you, baby,” he murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear and not giving a fuck about it either.
She smiled. “Love you.”
“Can you not engage in full-on s-e-x right now? I have an impressionable young child approaching,” Mia yelled, Rocko grinning beside her. His little hand was grasping his father’s large, tattooed pinky. His father was a giant compared to him.
Bull was holding his wife’s other hand.
Bex grinned wickedly. “As if we’d start having sex right here.”
Mia grinned back. “You did it last week.”
Lucky shrugged. “I put a sock on the door.”
Mia laughed. “No you didn’t.” Then her eyes went to me, glowing. She snatched me from Amy, yanking me into her arms. “I’m so glad about this.” She gestured between Luke and me, then looked at her beautiful brute of a husband. “Zane is too, but it mucks with his street cred to squeal about the love fluttering in the air. He did it at home though.” She winked.
Bull merely shook his head, grinning.
Such a facial expression was commonplace for most people, but for Bull, it was pivotal. Because not so long ago, he didn’t smile, didn’t laugh, didn’t live. His body was walking around in this world, but his soul was somewhere else. Somewhere horrible where the day of Laurie’s death was on repeat.
But Mia brought him back.
Even if she wasn’t completely awesome, and completely insane with a hugely famous rock-star daughter, I’d love her for that alone.
I caught Lily’s eye from where she was sitting on the sofa. She was cradling her tiny newborn, Emily, in her arms. Asher had his arms around her, his other hand cradling his daughter’s head.
I blew her a kiss.
Luke claimed me, back to his front.
And I fit. Perfectly.
Funnily enough, so did he.
“Cade is talking to Luke and not shooting him. I’m impressed,” Lizzie said, sitting down after giving up on chasing her children around to try and stop them getting into trouble.
They were with Rocko, so trouble was inevitable.
I sipped my beer, watching Cade’s mouth move, saying something to Luke that didn’t resemble a death threat.
“Yeah, I’m as surprised as you,” I told her. I looked around at all the people who made me who I was, then to Luke. “Do you think they hate me?” I whispered, letting out my last insecurity to one of my oldest friends, one of the club’s first old ladies, apart from Evie.
Lizzie’s beautiful face screwed up. “You’ve been fighting for all of these people your entire life,” she said, gaze going around the bustling outdoor area, touching fondly on her husband and her daughter for a moment. “Fighting tooth and nail.” She focused her attention back on me. “Taking every inch of pain away whenever you could, absorbing it yourself. You’re the central nervous system of this club, babe.” She looked around again, finding Gwen, squealing with laughter as her husband yanked her backward into his embrace. “You were there for Gwen when she arrived in this town, despite her catching the eye of the man you loved.”