Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 143728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Getting in her car, she buckled her seatbelt, then turned the music on. Rolling down the window, she cranked the radio even louder.
She pulled out of the parking lot and saw Knox about to get in his squad car, giving her a frown at the loud music. She didn’t bother turning it down. Knox might be the sheriff, but she’d heard his music cranked as high as hers when he drove around on that badass bike of his.
Going around a curve, she passed Rosie’s bar and started to sing and bop her head along to another song that came on. She pressed down on her horn when she saw Rider, Train, and Shade coming out of the bar, giving them a jaunty wave.
Cracking up at their expressions, she started singing a song that she began writing last night.
* * *
Reaper was squatting beside his motorcycle, replacing the belt, when he heard a car pull into the parking lot. He didn’t even bother to see who it was, aggravated the belt needed to be changed when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of town.
“Hi!”
Raising his head, he saw the woman who The Last Riders were protecting, determined to find her stalker, and the reason he was getting the fuck out of dodge, looking down at him with a million-watt smile.
That he didn’t respond to her didn’t dim her smile as she walked around his motorcycle to stare down at his bike as if she knew what was wrong with it.
“Need any help?”
“No,” he snapped.
Squatting down next to him, she rested her wrists on her thighs. “I can hand you a wrench if you need it,” she offered, picking up a pressure gauge.
When he didn’t make a move to take it from her, she laid it down and picked up the motorcycle chain. “I can hand you this when you’re ready for it.”
“I just took it off,” he said coldly.
“Oh ….” Still smiling, she laid it back down, then wiped her hands on her clean, white pant leg. Then she stuck her hand out. “I’m Ginny.”
He didn’t take her hand, but he did turn his face toward hers.
“Reaper.”
Ginny’s face went soft.
He froze when she lifted the hand that he hadn’t shaken to touch his face, sliding her soft fingertips down his cheek, skimming the skin above his beard, then curving downward to stop before she reached the fullness of his beard.
“You look more like a Gavin to me,” she whispered, her eyes memorizing his. “I’ve been searching for you for such a long time,” she said achingly.
Reaper felt his mouth drop open at her words.
Removing her hand from his face, she turned her fingers to show him the oil stains on her fingertips.
His eyes were still glued to hers when hers lifted, looking over his shoulder.
“You have my phone charger, Rider?”
“Yes. I left it in the office at the factory. We can go get it.”
Ginny nodded at Rider, then looked back at him. “It’s been nice meeting you, Gavin.”
She stood, then left with Rider. Unconsciously, Reaper stood to watch her go.
“That’s Ginny,” Train said, sitting down on his bike.
“I fucking know who she is,” he snapped.
“Just wanted you to know whose ass you’re watching.”
“Get off my bike.” Surly, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to pull himself out of the stupor that she just placed him in. He hadn’t been aware the brothers had pulled into the lot, having come back from returning the kegs from T.A.’s wedding.
Train grinned, getting off, then turning to go up the steps to the clubhouse. “You coming, Shade?”
Shade didn’t move. “I’ll be there in a few.”
Train curiously cocked his head to the side. “What are you waiting for?”
Reaper felt Shade give him a look of anticipation.
“I’m waiting for her to come back out.”