Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Slapping him on the back, Jinx gave her an innocent grin. “Putting the hurt on Curly for letting Harley have table scraps. You should see all the pizza he keeps sneaking her.”
“What the fuck, man?” Curly threw his hands in the air as the rest of them laughed. “That’s not true. It wasn’t me.” He gave Brooke a pleading look as she shook her head and rolled her eyes. Ugh, how was it possible a simple ribbed tank top and denim cutoffs could make a woman look so seductive?
Jinx winked at Brooke.
She stood in the open sliding glass doorway leading to his patio with a scrunched forehead. “Why do I feel like I’m the butt of some joke?”
Crickets. All of a sudden, this chatty bunch of bastards had nothing to say. But they all stared at him as though any of this was his fault. “Assholes,” he said, pointing around the table. “All of you.”
Scott, God love him, leaped to his feet. “I don’t know about the rest of these fuckers,” he said, flashing Brooke a charming smile. “But my momma taught me to stand when a beautiful woman walked in the room.” He came around the table, hand extended. “I’m Scott, though apparently these guys are gonna be calling me Spec. Nice to meet you.”
The rest of the guys grumbled and jumped up, each accusing the others of being rude and boorish.
Curly rolled his eyes. For Christ’s sake.
Brooke burst out laughing as she took Scott’s hand. “Brooke,” she said. “Curly’s been looking forward to having you here.” She glanced at the rest of the guys now standing around the table in an awkward stare-off. “Can you idiots sit down?” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“Oh, thank God.” Jinx plopped down in his chair. “Felt like we were greeting the queen or some shit.”
With a snort, Brooke set a Tupperware container in the center of the table. “Had some time this afternoon so I made some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Dig in.”
“Fuck yes!” Pulse ripped into the container as Brooke came around the table to the only empty seat, which of course, they’d left next to Curly.
As she approached, he nudged the chair out with his foot so she could sit easily.
Brooke ran her hand across the back of his shoulders as she passed behind him. That was all it took to have his dick filling with blood. One touch and a quick hit of the fresh citrusy scent he’d come to associate with her, and he was ready to kick the guys out and drag her to bed like a caveman.
“Hey,” she said, slightly breathless as though she felt the same intense pull.
“Hey.” He winked, trying to tamper his reaction. The guys would never let him live it down if they saw him slobbering over her worse than Harley with the pizza. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, inclining his head toward the table where the guys were chowing down on the cookies as though they hadn’t just eaten ninety pizzas. “You’ll spoil them.”
Damn, it got him right in the feels to know she thought of his guys and took steps to do something sweet for them.
She blushed as he’d come to expect while waving away his thanks. “It was no big deal. They’re fun.”
With a grunt, he said. “That’s one word for ’em.”
“Hey, Brooke, I’m grabbing another round of beers. Want one?” Tyler asked. He stood and snatched a cookie out of Tracker’s hands before the man could take a bite.
“The fuck, man?”
Grinning, Brooke nodded. “I’d love one, thanks.”
She looked good sitting there around the table with his men. Comfortable, as though she fit with them. Hell, she did fit with them. Her strong personality had the guys respect the first time they met her, and her quick wit made them love bantering with her. He had a feeling they all appreciated the way she gave them shit right back when they were ribbing her. No one had to tiptoe around or worry about offending her with their crass language or vulgar jokes.
Brooke could handle these guys with ease.
She’d make a damn good ol’ lady.
For someone looking, of course. And that disturbing thought had him studying the faces of all his men. They better keep their dirty fucking hands to themselves when it came to Brooke. He had no plans to claim her or any woman, but fuck if he’d let one of these jokers at her.
“Hey,” she whispered in his ear. “You okay?”
Curly blinked. Shit, he’d totally zoned out. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.”
Thankfully everyone else was still fighting over Brooke’s cookies. They laughed and stuffed their faces. Damn, he had a good group here. They meshed well already. Copper would like this crew, and they’d like the Tennessee Handlers as well. Finally, shit was coming together as he’d hoped. All they needed to do was get rid of one prickly thorn in their side.