Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Ol’ lady?” she asked, cocking her head.
His entire face softened when he said, “Sorry. Biker speak for girlfriend. Her name’s Brooke, and she’s dying to meet you. I imagine she’s home staring at her phone as she waits for me to call.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I work from my laptop so I can be anywhere, and to be honest, I came out with a one-way ticket hoping to spend some time getting to know you. I’m just not sure if, um… after last night…”
Her face heated.
The words wouldn’t come.
How did she tell this man she just met that she was uneasy around him and downright terrified of some of the men he hung out with?
“Hey,” he squeezed her hands gently. “Tomorrow night we’re having a club dinner, then helping the ladies decorate the Christmas tree in the clubhouse. It’ll be fun and much more low-key than last night. You should come.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” All those men in one place?
Curly—her brother stared at her as though he could read the apprehension plain on her face. “I’m going to make you a promise, Rach. You don’t know me well yet, so I understand if you can’t take my word for it, but you are now under my club’s protection. That means you have nothing, nothing to fear from me or my men. It also means we have your back at all times. No one will touch you.”
God, she wanted those words to be true. Even if they were, could she do it? Could she set aside the fear and allow herself to become comfortable around Curly and his club? Allow herself to become his family?
She wasn’t sure, but she had to try. He was her only living blood relative, and if she didn’t try, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. “Okay,” she said, sounding stronger than she felt. “Thank you. I just want to warn you—”
He squeezed her hand again interrupting her. “Something you need to know about us. Me, my men, our ol’ ladies, we are all here because we have something, some of us many somethings, that have damaged us in our pasts. We haven’t broken, but we are pretty damn bent. There won’t be any judgment from any of us, ever.”
The words sounded so genuine, and his expression matched their sincerity. She wanted them to be true so badly it was a physical ache inside her. But past experiences taught her to be wary. To avoid potential traps and embarrassing situations.
Back in college, a football player invited her to a party. He was cool, fun, popular and she’d decided to step outside her comfort zone and take a chance. The party was loaded with big, hulking athletes, and not five minutes in, the guy who invited her put his arm around her shoulder, and she lost it. Full-blown panic attack.
Instead of helping her out, he and his teammates laughed. She’d ended up running and nearly passing out in the bushes outside the football house as she’d tried to regain her composure.
They’d never spoken again, but every time she ran across any of the football players, they snickered. It’d be a hard and humiliating lesson but an important one. She learned to protect herself by avoiding potential disasters.
But as Jen told her, that was years ago, and she was stronger now. Better able to handle her panic attacks.
Sometimes.
But worse than embarrassing herself was the possibility of being stuck in one place for the rest of her life. So she swallowed the fear and smiled at her brother. “Thank you. I’d love to come. It sounds fun.”
He released her hands as Frost came walking back over to the table.
“All good, Prez. No problems.”
He winked at her as he slid back into the booth.
Her heart did some stupid skip, and her stomach joined in the madness by fluttering.
She was in so far over her head.
But for once, she had hoped things would work out well.
CHAPTER FIVE
“JESUS CHRIST,” FROST muttered as he gawked at the disastrous state of the clubhouse.
“He is the birthday boy.” Jinx strode past, carrying a gigantic box on his shoulder as though it was a shoebox.
“Huh?”
“Jesus. Christmas. Birthday boy. Catch up, Frost.”
He grunted and rolled his eyes. Jinx was ridiculous for a change.
Christmas crap littered every inch of the floor. Even the tables were covered in boxes of shiny junk. It looked as though Santa waltzed in and projectile vomited tinsel, snowflakes, and lights everywhere.
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Brooke asked as she sidled up next to him.
“No, it isn’t!” Olivia called from the other side of the room. “Frost, tell her it’s not too much.”
Brooke’s eyebrow arched.
“It’s not too much?” he said.
Brooke laughed. “Very convincing. Don’t worry, we have a plan for most of it. It won’t look like this for long.”
“I’ll be the asshole stuck taking it down,” he grumbled.