 by KB Winters.jpg)
Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Friends with benefits is what I’m after. And I’ve had a lot of…ahem…friends.
But Willow is different. She’s fiery, sassy, and takes no prisoners. I thought a fling during lockdown would be fun, but I never expected to see beyond her tough exterior to the real woman inside.
When she gets shot and the cartel comes after us, I realize I can’t live without her.
I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, even if it means burning this place to the ground.
If she lives through this, I’ll make her mine forever.
Can this reformed gang banger win the heart of the one woman he can’t live without?
Don’t miss the next book in the Reckless Souls Motorcycle Club Series! You’ll love this exciting friends to lovers romantic suspense!
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Willow
“This is all so weird,” I say out loud to no one in particular as I work the register at For Goodness Cakes.
The Reckless Souls motorcycle club is still on lockdown, which for some reason, includes me. Everything at the club is tense as hell. Well, it’s tense for the guys and the women who love them, but for me, it’s been pretty fucking exciting. And dangerous, which is probably what makes it all so exciting.
Right now, the Reckless Souls are at war with the Iron Kings, a psychopathic motorcycle club that’s on its last leg, or tire or whatever the fuck you use for a MC metaphor.
Anyway, lockdown means that I am in absolute heaven being surrounded by hot bikers. I have so many to choose from, all of them delicious in their own way, and the options are so tempting that I’m having a hard time choosing just one.
Well, the single ones, that is.
Some of the guys who are married or otherwise coupled up are hot as hell, but I don’t touch another girl’s merch, if you get my drift.
Still, I’m stuck in a candy store and don’t I know it.
Stone and Tank are outside the bakery today, providing security, so I focus on them while Maven bakes her ass off in the back. Stone is, well, he is the kind of hot that just has to smile to send a girl’s panties on fire. He’s big and blond, and that Texas accent? Oh my fuck, he’s too hot to focus on anything as dull as cookies and pies.
Then there’s Tank. He’s not even a real biker yet, just a prospect, so he isn’t really worth pursuing. Yet. Even still, Tank is sex on a stick. A very big stick if ya ask me.
His blond hair curls just enough to soften his giant appearance, and those eyes say he’s got more going on inside that head than bikes and engines. He’s got a dirty mouth, which I like, but he’s not patched yet, so fucking him won’t make me a biker’s chick, not technically.
Nova is the club doctor, and he’s gorgeous in a sophisticated way. He’s quiet, but maybe that’s what a wild child like me needs. I don’t know. All I know is I have plenty to choose from, and I’m choosing wisely.
For once.
My phone buzzes inside my apron, interrupting my ogling of the fine man-flesh on display just outside the window, and somehow I tear my eyes away to look down at the screen. I groan at the sight of my mom’s face because I know behind her smile, she’s going to be pissed off.
“Hey, Mom, how’s it going?” I ask in my sweetest voice.
“You’d know the answer to that if you’d been home at all over the past week.”
I sigh and nod even though she can’t see me. “I know, Mom, and I’m sorry, but some stuff has gone down, and Maven needs my help.”
“I hope she’s paying you, Willow.”
“She is,” I sigh. Mom isn’t a bad person. She’s one of the best people I know, but life has been hard for us. She works two shit jobs, meaning her top priority is always money. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“Right,” she snorts. “Look, Willow, just because you haven’t been home in a while doesn’t mean that you can stop paying your part of the bills. That was the deal, remember?”
I nod again. As long as I live there, I have to work, and we split the bills. “Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Great even. Thanks for asking.”
“Willow,” she sighs in that exhausted tone she’s been using since I was about ten years old.
“Forget it, Mom. You don’t know or care what’s going on in my life. I got it. But I promise I will stop by soon to pay my part of the rent. All right?”
“Good,” she says, her tone short and distracted. “Thank you.”
I stare at the phone as the screen turns black, almost in disbelief, except that would be totally phony because I know this is Mom’s way.
She works and pays the bills, and if she has time, she finds a shitty boyfriend to entertain her for a while.
“Yep, great talk, Mom. See you soon,” I say sarcastically at the black screen.
I hate fighting with Mom, but that’s what happens when two strong-willed women share tiny living quarters. We’re a team, Mom and me, and we have been for as long as I can remember.
The morning rush is over, and the dining area is clean, so I push the swinging door that separates the kitchen from the front of the bakery and smile at Maven. “Hey there, hot stuff.”
She laughs and shoves another cake in the oven before setting the timer. “Hey, Willow. What’s up?”
“That’s what I want to know. How are things with your sexy-ass biker?”