Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Her almost-black hair was pulled back in a neat French braid, giving him a good view of her profile as she worked.
When she finally got a lull in the action, she paused to drink from a bottle of water she pulled from under the bar and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. As she tipped the bottle to her lips again, her eyes scanned the customers and slid right past him.
On the return trip, she finally spotted him, causing her head to jerk and her eyes widen before she schooled her reaction.
He was probably the last person she expected to see in Hawg Wild tonight.
Or any night.
But then, he never thought he’d be sitting in the middle of enemy territory, either, getting ready to have a beer instead of hauling subjects off in handcuffs.
She tucked her water bottle back under the bar, skirted a Demon in the middle of pouring a draft beer into a pint glass and came to a stop directly in front of him.
“Hi, honey,” he greeted her.
Her mouth gaped open. Well look at that, he finally left her speechless.
She leaned over the bar so no one else would hear her and hissed, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer any of my texts…” He frowned when he forgot what name was she using.
“Rose,” she whispered, then increased the volume to say, “As you see, I’ve been busy…”
He leaned in until he was only an inch from her ear. “Well, Rose, nice to meet you, I’m your ol’ man, Throttle.”
She straightened and bugged her eyes out at him. For some reason, she didn’t look amused at all.
“I don’t need you checking up on me.” Her expression was full of a whole bunch of unhappy.
Too bad.
Before he could answer her, a deep, thundering voice came out of nowhere. “Problem here?”
Fuck, where did that big dude come from? He needed to pay the fuck attention.
The massive guy came to a stop behind Cabrera and placed his big paws on her shoulders.
She kept her eyes locked on Crew when she answered, “Not at all, Bulldog. Just my ol’ man coming in for a cold beer.”
Crew scanned his front patches. Bulldog. Sgt at Arms. Deadly Demons. Uniontown.
His cut also had the diamond 1% patch. Along with a few others.
“And to check on my woman,” he added.
“You gotta be Throttle, then.”
“In the flesh.” Crew’s eyes dropped to his hands still gripping Cabrera’s shoulders, waiting for the man to remove them.
He didn’t.
“Your ol’ lady kicks ass,” Bulldog announced.
“Nothin’ I don’t know.”
“She also said you got a sled.”
At least she was making it known that she had an ol’ man. “I do.”
“Lookin’ to join a club?”
“Not really. Don’t plan on bein’ someone else’s bitch for a year. Why you ask?”
“Our prez is lookin’ to expand our territory and grow our brotherhood. Wants us to be a force to be reckoned with.”
No shit. “Against who?”
That got the man pursing his lips for a few seconds—and maybe even regretting letting that little bit of info fly—before answering, “Nobody specific.”
Right.
That made him believe that, not only did they want to cut out the Russos, but they planned on expanding their territory into another MC’s.
Like the Dirty Angels. Maybe dare to march even more north into the Dark Knights’.
If they were going to make that move—one that would be a mistake—it made sense to patch “Ghost” over from the Angels and continue to actively recruit more members.
None of it was a surprise and what they had expected to happen.
Bulldog gave Cabrera’s shoulders a squeeze. “Table over in the far corner needs fresh beers. Go get ‘em some.”
Cabrera’s eyes briefly met his and he gave the slightest chin lift. Luckily, she caught it. She pulled away from Bulldog and nodded. “I see that. I’ll get right on it, boss.”
Boss.
And here he thought she reserved that title strictly for him.
Once she was gone, the Demons’ sergeant at arms turned back to him. “That one’s a damn hard worker. Even better that we don’t gotta pay her. You must got her trained well to get her bustin’ her ass for your habit.” His head tilted as he ran his gaze over what he could see of Crew sitting on the opposite side of the bar. “Though, don’t look like you’re drinkin’ too many of those specialty drinks she’s takin’ home with her.”
Ah shit. “Ain’t for me.”
“She said it was.”
For fuck’s sake, she never told him she used that cover story. Or if she did, he had missed or forgotten it. Unfortunately, he just stepped in some shit. It wasn’t her fault, it was his for coming into Hawg Wild with no warning.
Even so, he needed to be careful with his story since he didn’t want to blow her cover.
Or his.
He needed to come up with a valid story and fast. “It’s actually for my brother. He lives with us and he’s a miserable bastard when his sweet tooth is achin’. Those specialty drinks you all make here helps keep him on an even keel.”