Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Pres blinks in surprise. No doubt I've caught him off guard by talking back. I don't think I've ever done that before. Hell, I know I haven't.
Pres stares back at me. "Quit going to the bakery."
Damn, here we go. "This is one order that I can't follow. Respectfully, Pres, I have to say no."
"No?" He rages, "You little fucker. Are you telling me no?" Under normal circumstances, I would probably laugh that Pres is calling me little. I may be quite a bit younger than him, but I am bigger. Truth is, I could probably take him if I had to, not that I ever would.
"Sir, the club is going because of the pastries. I'm going for a different reason."
He stares at me with his brows furrowed. "A woman," he huffs. I only nod. I know Pres' attitude toward women right now is not the best. It hasn't been for a while since he caught his old lady with another man. Pres puts his hands on his hips. "Are you telling me you're going there for pussy?"
My jaw cracks as I try to refrain from saying what I want to say to him. I spit the words at him. "Don't call her that. This one is different."
Pres laughs a big belly laugh. "Right. I bet she is."
I stand up from my seat and fist my hands at my sides. "Pres, I have done everything you've ever asked of me. You told me to pick up, leave my life in Texas, and come to Tennessee, I did it. I followed you here, and I will do whatever needs to be done. But this is one thing that is for me, and there's nothing I'm going to let come between me and her."
He shakes his head in disbelief. "We've only been here a few weeks."
I nod and interrupt him. "I know that, but I'm telling you what I know. She is the one for me."
He moves around the desk and comes toward me, only stopping inches away. "Are you telling me that she comes before the club?"
I shrug my shoulders. "Don't ask me to make that choice, Pres. You won't like my decision."
His eyes widen. I know he's pissed. His nostrils are flaring as he's breathing down over me. "It's like that, is it?"
I nod, staring at him, wanting him to know how serious I am. "It's exactly like that."
"Fuck," Pres curses and turns around to go back behind his desk. "Fine. You go into town, don't take everyone with you. We don't need a swarm of bikers every day in downtown Whiskey Run with all the locals gawking at us. You want to go see your woman? You go on your own, or take one other person with you. I don't want the whole crew going anymore."
"You got it, Pres. Anything else?"
He just shakes his head, and I get out of his office while the getting is good. It's not until I'm out and Grayson is standing around the corner that I let out a deep breath like the weight of the world was just taken off my shoulders.
Grayson hits me in the back. "You just stood up to the Pres and lived to talk about it."
I take my hand and rub at the base of my neck. "Trust me. I'm well aware."
Chapter 2
Tara
“Hey, Jason.” I hear Emery's voice over the loudness of the restaurant. I'm cleaning off a table that was just vacated, and I look up at the door to the bakery. Jason is walking in, and I can feel butterflies in my stomach just looking at him. He's tall and lean. It's obvious that he works out. He spots me almost instantly, and even from across the room, I can feel his brown eyes as if they're piercing me. He has on that same sleeveless vest that has a patch on the front with his name, and without him even turning, I know exactly what it says on the back—Guardians MC.
No one is as shocked as I am that a motorcycle club has decided to take up residence in Whiskey Run. It doesn't make sense to me, just like I'm sure it doesn't make sense to the rest of the community. "Hey, Emery," Jason says back to my boss as he walks past her.
I resist rolling my eyes. I'm not jealous. I mean, I know I shouldn't be. Emery is happily married to Nash. I grab up the tray of dirty dishes and walk to the back of the bakery and set them in the sink. I try to pull myself together when I come back out front.
Jason is standing at the counter. He looks me up and down, and when his eyes go back to mine, he smiles at me with a smirk. "How're you doing today, Mama?"