Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
He’s the reason I can’t seem to stay away.
He’s been on my mind constantly for months.
I track a small group of leather vests as I edge closer to the park, but none of them are Boomer. He’s the only reason I’m here.
I only speak to people who speak to me. There’s a certain silent oath taken by bartenders. We hear so many secrets once folks are plied with alcohol. We witness sins and infidelities. We hear confessions. We’re privileged to secrets.
Many men drop their eyes when they see me before escorting their life partners in another direction, guilt, and fear of being exposed, making them hasten their steps.
Women who dress a certain way for the bar are a little more proper at this family event.
“Think they prayed over the sauce?”
I grin at Ugly as I step up to the ladies selling BBQ plates.
The woman handing out plates frowns, and I do my best to hide my smile, but even rolling my lips between my teeth doesn’t seem to be enough.
“I wouldn’t think Cerberus would get tangled up with any religious faction,” I say, once I have better control of my facial features.
“We’re in no way linked to the motorcycle gang,” the woman says, her hands trembling as she passes me a plate with a pulled pork sandwich on it. “We’re raising money for a new swing set at Believer’s Baptist Church.”
“We’re not a gang, ma’am,” Ugly says, his voice showing no irritation, but I can see in his eyes he’s getting tired of having to make the distinction.
“The event was open to all vendors,” she says to me as if Ugly didn’t just speak to her. “We don’t condone what that gang stands for, but the children need new playground equipment.”
I have no doubt this woman doesn’t have a clue just how much she’d avoid speaking to me if she thinks the club is bad. I’m certain who I am to my core would make her have a stroke.
“Do you have any idea—”
My words snap to an end when Ugly places his hand over mine.
“For the children,” he says, holding a fifty-dollar bill in her direction.
“I don’t have change,” she says, looking down at the money as if she’s surprised he’s offering to pay rather than throwing the food back at her after what she said.
“Keep it,” he says, giving her a small smile.
“For the children,” I repeat before walking away, my hands trembling to the point I’m afraid the food on my plate will end up at my feet.
“That’s wasteful,” Ugly says as I inch toward one of the many trash cans spread out around the park.
“You’re actually going to eat it?”
He shrugs. “I’m hungry and it smells great. Plus, I’m going to eat it out of spite, and smile the entire time.”
“I thought religious people were supposed to be accepting. Those without sin cast the first stone and all that shit.”
Ugly chuckles, and I follow him to a table, the plate of food still in hand because he’s right. It does smell amazing, and I’m incredibly hungry too.
“People pick and choose which sins they will allow. That woman would never consider that her judgment of Cerberus would be considered just as sinful as whatever she thinks the club does.”
“It’s stupid.”
“It’s life,” Ugly says around a huge bite of his pulled pork sandwich. He chews and swallows before speaking again. “I think they must’ve blessed the sauce. It’s amazing.”
“It’s probably poisoned,” I mutter, but lift my sandwich to my mouth.
Motion to my left catches my eye, and I nearly choke on my food when I see Boomer walking up. He has a huge smile on his face as Alyssa holds most of his attention. His steps falter when he notices me sitting across from Ugly.
I watch his sexy-as-hell throat work on a swallow as he quickly decides that walking away will cause more of a scene than taking a seat.
I take another bite as he settles beside Ugly.
“Did you get preached at to get that sandwich?” I ask Alyssa as she places her plate on the picnic table.
“Right?” she says with a light chuckle. “I thought I was going to have to repent in order to get a fork for the potato salad.”
“Making fun of people because of their beliefs is just as bad as them judging you for not having any,” Boomer says, his voice flat and unimpressed.
“We weren’t making fun of—”
“I was,” Alyssa interrupts with a chuckle as she looks at her friend. “That woman is hateful. I’m not much of a religious person, but I don’t think being hateful is approved of in any religion.”
Boomer tilts his head to the side as if considering her words.
I haven’t seen him since the kiss. My texts since he sent the picture of him flipping me the middle finger have gone unanswered. I haven’t sent many because there’s a fine line between trying to entice him and harassing him. After a handful, I stopped sending them altogether.