Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Rev turned in slow-motion toward her.
She glanced up, blinking quickly, then her eyes—one watery and irritated, one normal—dropped to the twenty-dollar bill on the floor at his bare feet. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Where’s the pizza? Don’t tell me they screwed up the order!”
She jumped when a pounding on the door loudly filled her tiny apartment.
“Open this fuckin’ door right fuckin’ now!”
Rev didn’t realize her eyes could get that big until that very moment. Her mouth formed an O and her gaze slid to the door. All color fled from her face.
He was pretty damn sure he wore a similar ass-puckering look.
The knob turned freely back and forth, but the deadbolt kept the door secure. Thank fuck.
“Open the goddamn door, Rev!” Deacon shouted through it, still pounding.
“Reilly!” Reese called.
Her eyes slid back to him. “Oh shit,” she breathed. “Oh shit. Oh shit.”
Three “oh shits” weren’t apparently enough since she continued to chant those words. He agreed.
He winced at the flashback of how Cage looked after his “blanket party.” Wait. Maybe that was actually his life flashing before his eyes.
Was touching one of the women on the “do not fuck” list even worse than knocking up an Amish chick? No, it couldn’t be as bad. Trip had been more pissed about Cage almost destroying the club’s relationship with the Amish. That was the reason, right? Not because he accidentally knocked up one of their virgins.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. Yeah, right.
For fuck’s sake, at least Reilly wasn’t pregnant. So, there was that silver fucking lining.
“We ain’t leavin’ ’til you open the damn door,” Deacon warned loudly.
Reilly turned her ghost-white face from the door to him. “Do we open it?”
“Do you want me to die?”
“Open the goddamn door!” Deacon bellowed.
“Someone’s going to call the cops if we don’t open the door,” she warned. “I can’t have him out there bellowing like an annoyed bull moose. And I doubt they’re just going to go away.”
“No, we’re not leaving,” Reese confirmed through the door. “So, you might as well open it.”
“Shit,” Reilly whispered then chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to die.”
“You ain’t the only one. But it ain’t the dyin’ part I’m worried about. It’s the part that happens before that.”
Reilly grimaced. “Open it.”
Rev sucked in a deep breath, then held it as he flipped the deadbolt and stepped back.
A split second later the door banged open and Deacon came into the apartment with Reese on his heels.
Once they were inside and the door slammed shut behind them, everyone stood frozen for what to Rev seemed like forever. The only thing that moved were their eyes as they took each other in.
Both Deacon and Reese focused on Rev’s bare chest and he knew exactly what they were noticing. It wasn’t his tattoos.
When Reese turned toward her sister, her brow suddenly dropped low and she rushed over to Reilly, grabbing her chin and turning her face toward the light. “Why are you crying? Did he hurt you?”
“What? No!” Reilly jerked her chin free and stepped back. “He… uh… I was chopping onions.”
Reese’s gaze swept the counters, which were onion-free.
“Earlier,” Reilly added weakly. “Why are you here?”
“One, you’re my sister and I wanted to see you. Two, we wanted to invite you to Dino’s with us for dinner. Three, to see if you needed our help unpacking the storage boxes.”
“Looks like Rev unpacked her box already,” Deacon mumbled.
“No! He just came over to… uh… fix… my plumbing. His clothes got wet from the leak. I threw them in the dryer.”
Reese shot Reilly a look that said yeah, sure, Jan loud and clear. “Let me point out a few holes in your story. One, you have a landlord who takes care of your repairs. Two, you don’t have a dryer. Three, you’re wearing his shirt and, I’m going to assume, nothing else.” Reese pushed past her sister and pointed toward her bed. “Four, you always make your bed and your sheets are…” Her words faded away and she grimaced as she spotted the damp circle in the middle of the bed.
Deacon wandered closer to the bed and sniffed. “Sure smells like someone was laying pipe. Just not under the sink. And that leak must be comin’ from the roof,” he glanced toward the ceiling and scratched the back of his neck, a feigned dumb-founded look on his face. “Better get that checked.”
Reese whacked him in the gut with the back of her hand and Deke laughed.
Rev wasn’t finding any of it funny.
First of all, his woman was only wearing his tee and nothing else, just like Reese said. Second, if they didn’t quickly do damage control, Rev might die before his time. Third, and most importantly… Reilly was only wearing his fucking T-shirt without anything else in front of Deacon.