Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Son of a Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #3) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Lani Lynn Vale |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B01N15EKRY |
| Book Information: | |
Truth Alan Reacher was a biker. He was a bladesmith. What he was not, was a fool. The moment he walked in on his girl screwing his cousin on his bike, he does the only thing he can do. He ditches the bike seat—and the girl—riding right out of her life without a backwards glance. That is until he’s forced to attend the marriage of his cousin to his cheating ex-girlfriend. The only bright spot of the entire thing was watching some chick go off on the groom—the groom’s ex-fiancé—right in the middle of the bouquet toss. *** Verity Ruthann Cassidy was supposed to be here today attending this wedding as the bride, not watching the festivities as a guest from the chairs she’d painstakingly purchased covers for while her fiancé—now her ex-fiancé—screwed around on her with another woman. The icing on the wedding cake that she refuses to eat? She’s forced to attend the wedding due to her mother being the wedding planner. However, the night doesn’t turn out quite the way she expects it due to the hot-as-hell biker sitting in the chair directly beside her. The man gave one hell of a speech during the reception that sounded like something that could have come straight out of her own mouth, and she enjoyed every single second of it. *** Thrown together under similarly lousy circumstances, the two newly single jilted former lovers of the happy couple decide to go to Vegas on what was to be Verity’s honeymoon trip. One thing leads to another, and the next thing they know, their night has gone from a celebration of being single to a marriage—to each other. Verity and Truth now have to figure out if everything that happens in Vegas should stay in Vegas. | |
| Books in Series: | The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale |
| Books by Author: | Lani Lynn Vale Books |
Prologue
I don’t understand your specific brand of crazy, but I do commend your devotion to it.
-Truth to his ex
Truth
“Anybody home?” I called loudly as I came out of my workshop.
Destiny didn’t answer and I frowned.
I could’ve sworn I heard something.
“Destiny?” I rumbled, peaking my head around the corner of the bedroom of the single bedroom shotgun house I shared with her.
Empty. As was the bathroom that I could see due to the door being wide open, and all the lights being on.
I could see Destiny’s makeup, clothes, and shoes strewn all over the floor of not just the bathroom, but the bedroom as well.
She’d gotten dressed in a hurry.
Normally, she didn’t leave the expensive dresses I’d bought her lying in a heap like that unless it was because I’d thrown it there after ripping it from her body.
And boy did she have a sexy body.
That was the only thing keeping us together at this point. The sex—or the sex we used to have. We hadn’t had it in a while, and at this point, there wasn't much keeping us together.
It was always good, which made it hard to kick her to the curb because she was convenient.
If I didn’t have her to come home to, I wouldn’t have the nightly sex I craved.
And I wasn’t the type to spread my dick around to the women that I knew I could land. They always had expectations.
Destiny, however, did not. She didn’t expect me to marry her. Hell, a lot of nights she didn’t even expect me to come home at all.
Which was good seeing as I was a member of The Dixie Wardens MC, Mooresville, Alabama chapter.
Sometimes I spend the night at the clubhouse after a club party—which she most certainly did not go to—and she doesn’t complain.
Growling when I saw the empty bracelet box that was supposed to contain the bracelet I’d bought her for Christmas, one she wasn’t supposed to wear unless it was a special occasion due to the fact that it cost several thousand dollars, was laying haphazardly on the night stand. I turned off the light and headed to the front door.
The kitchen was empty, as was the living room as I passed through it on my way.
So what had I heard?
Something caught my attention before I could get there, though.
Some motion.
I could see something moving outside through the sheer white curtains that Destiny insisted we had to have, and I stopped, my eyes narrowed as I focused.
That was where I parked my bike.
On the side of the house, hugged right up against the window so I could see it as we passed in and out of the living room.
That bike was my baby.
The absolute best thing that’d ever happened to me in my entire life.
And someone was sitting on it.
Was it Destiny?
I hated when she did that.
She’d lean on it when she went outside to talk on her phone, because I’ll be the first to admit that she was obnoxiously loud when she was on the phone, and I would complain if she didn’t go outside.
I’d tell her not to lean on it, because her weight could offset the balance of the kickstand and cause it to smash into the side of the house, and then I’d have to fix a dent or a scratch, and I most assuredly didn’t want to do that, but she’d do it anyway.
Just to piss me off, I was sure.
So that was what I expected as I flicked open the curtains to peer outside.
I’d been about to raise my finger to tap on the glass when what I was seeing through the window finally registered in my brain.
Destiny was on my bike all right, but some man was on it, too.
Some man with his balls laying unbound against the leather of my seat.
The leather that I’d fucking stitched by goddamned hand.
The leather that I’d searched high and low for and specifically chosen after finding it in a motherfucking magazine.
The leather that’d seen no one’s ass but mine—and not even that was bare.
Anger welled up inside of me, and I finally took my eyes off the man’s balls sticking to my seat going up to the man’s face, and that’s about when everything exploded.
Because it wasn’t bad enough that they were fucking on my bike.
No, the man that Destiny was fucking on my bike was my cousin.
The same cousin who made my younger years a living hell with his teasing about my pretty boy looks and my “girlie” hands.
Hands that were now rough and strong from years of doing what I loved—being a swordsmith.
Somehow, I found my Colt .45 in my hand, and somehow, I pointed it at the man’s head.
And before you get all bent out of shape, the safety was on.
He, however, did not know that.
Tapping on the glass with the gun, I made sure that the laser in the grips was activated and pointed right at about eye level.