Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 15704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
“So, you finally tap that?” Harlan asked me.
I bristled. Probably shitty of me since I used to talk about all their conquests like they were nothing, but I didn’t like making Harbor out to be anything less than extremely special.
“Not any of your business,” I retorted as I passed him a nail.
“You used to make the women you fucked around with everyone’s business,” Beau said, letting himself into our conversation. “What’s different about this one?”
I sighed, hating that he was right. Because I did. “It’s not… Fuck, it’s not like that,” I told them as Adler and Seb walked into the store, both of them looking a bit cheerful, just as I had before these fuckers started bugging me about Harbor. “Harbor is different.”
“Leave Elliot the hell alone,” Adler ordered, sensing my unease, “and get back to work.” He clapped me on the back as he passed by me. “I assume everything went well last night?”
I nodded. “Everything went fantastic.” I looked at Seb. “Was Athena offended that I didn’t eat last night?” I asked him, worried about that. She said she didn’t care, but she also put in a lot of work to be able to feed six men who basically had bottomless pits for stomachs, which meant she cooked a lot. Despite the amazing night I had with Harbor, I did feel guilty for not staying. Especially since she cooked for all of us while pregnant—past her due date at that.
Seb shook his head at me, one side of his mouth tilting up into a smile. I breathed a sigh of relief. Seb wouldn’t lie to me. He wasn’t one for caring when he hurt someone’s feelings, even if they were family. He never lied to Athena either, even if it sometimes made them fight.
Adler gently squeezed my shoulder before dropping his hand. “It’s good to see you happy and getting settled, Elliot. And I mean that. You’ve been too wild for too long.”
I snorted. “She’s good at being bossy and reining me in.”
Harlan choked on the sip of coffee he’d just started to swallow, and I barked out a laugh before pushing him out of the way so I could take over.
Harbor might have been taming me, but I was still the same Elliot everyone knew under it all. And that was never going to change.
My smart-ass remarks weren’t going anywhere.
Harbor had called in an order for food at the Mexican grill in Tennille, so after I swung by and grabbed it, I headed straight out to her place. I was sweaty and dirty from work, but I was hoping she wouldn’t mind. I could’ve gone back to the clubhouse and showered and changed so I was the best version of myself for her, but I was exhausted. I had a feeling if I walked into my apartment where my bed was, I wouldn’t leave.
We’d worked hard as hell today, and my body was feeling it. I wanted to eat, shower, and curl up with my woman in my arms before I was knocked out for the evening. And that wouldn’t take me long. To be honest, I could probably place money that I wouldn’t make it past the first thirty minutes of whatever movie she picked.
Harbor was sitting in a rocking chair on her porch when I pulled up her driveway, and she instantly smiled when I stepped out of the truck, the bag containing our food in my right hand, my small duffel containing my pajamas and my work clothes in my left.
She met me by the front door, and I leaned down to softly smooth my lips over hers. “Hey, baby,” I greeted. “Sorry I’m a mess.”
She shook her head and pushed open the front door, walking in ahead of me. I quickly followed her inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. “Don’t apologize for being a working man, El.” Fuck, I loved the way she shortened my name. No one ever had before, which made her doing it extremely special. “We’ll eat, and then you can shower. Sound good?”
“Sounds exactly like what I had in mind,” I told her honestly. I set my bag by her bedroom door and then set the bag of food on the kitchen table. She sat down, and I passed over her tray of food, handing her the plastic ware that came with the meal.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked her as I headed toward her fridge, ignoring the way my feet were throbbing and how tight my back was.
“Beer,” she answered.
My kind of woman.
I grabbed two Icehouses from the fridge before nudging the door shut with my boot. I cracked hers open when I got to the table before sliding it to her. A groan slid from my throat as I sat down in the dining room table chair near hers. She frowned at me in concern.