Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Stepping closer to him, I stood within inches of this sexy yet infuriating man. Masculinity overpowered my senses, and a crisp smell of pure testosterone had my pulse quickening. Okay, maybe I could understand her choice of boyfriend, but that didn’t keep me from standing up for women everywhere. I also tried not to focus on the fact there were two other men just as sexy in appearance, but also just as infuriating.
“If I remember correctly, Kit is a grown woman who has the right to make her own decisions even though I find her choice of you for a boyfriend questionable. Regardless, I will do and say whatever I choose.” I couldn’t help but give a contemptuous sneer at each of the three in turn.
If looks could kill, I’d be nothing but a crumpled ball on the floor. It was amazing how ice could survive the fire in his eyes, but it did as the glare he gave was so cold it sent shivers down my spine. He leaned closer, pinning me to the floor with nothing more than his gaze.
“Kit is our kid sister. She’s easily taken advantage of, and we’ll not allow someone like you to hurt her.”
Sister. I hate to admit I felt a teensy bit of guilt about the relief of hearing Kit was his sister and not his lover, but then felt a wave of pity for the girl I’d come to know. She had three brothers like these?
I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, hoping to God I wasn’t revealing how uneasy these men were making me feel. “Like I said, Kit is an adult and, I might add, you all could stand to learn common courtesy from her.”
One of the other brothers grabbed my arm and forced me to look at him. His jaw clenched. “I don’t give a shit about manners. What I care about is my sister. This is the only time we are going to tell you. Leave Kit alone, or we’ll make damn sure you do. The Barrett Brothers are not people to fuck with. Kit is our family, and the one thing we pride ourselves on is protecting that. Don’t mess with her if you know what’s good for you.”
Had he just threatened me? The Barrett Brothers? Who did he think they were? Did he think saying their name like it was some famous outlaw gang would have me shaking in my boots? Was he kidding me with his action movie warnings? I no longer noticed or cared about the patrons who were staring in awkward silence. Any hope of rebounding from this day was futile. Good looking or not, the ability to make my blood race and my nipples harden notwithstanding, I was not going to let these men disparage my granny’s shop, and I sure as shit was not going to let them bully me.
I was not someone to fuck with.
“And how do you plan on doing that? Do you think I’m afraid? I’m done with all of you. It’s a waste of my time trying to talk to you. You aren’t interested in having a conversation; you only want to give ultimatums. So, if you don’t mind, I would like all of you to leave my store. Now,” I demanded.
For the first time since meeting, one of the brothers’ face softened. There was a twinkle in his eye as he took a step closer. He reached out and slowly ran his hand down the length of my arm. As much as I knew I should jerk away, I couldn’t. Neither could I deny that his touch caused my long-denied body to shudder.
What was it about these men?
“Sweetheart, we don’t take demands from anyone.” He leaned in and softly whispered in my ear, “You don’t want to poke the bear, Goldie Guinevere Winters. You may think you’re strong. But we will always be stronger.”
With one last glance around the store, he joined his brothers and they strolled out the door, leaving nothing behind other than having every sense in my body on alert and wondering how in the hell he knew my full name.
3
Banks Barrett
I knew my sister believed anything anyone said. Sheltered, gentle, and fragile, Kit was my brothers’ and my responsibility. She’d never truly recovered after the boating accident that killed our parents. A shipment from Ireland needed for our poppy crop had kept me and my brothers from joining our family at the lake the weekend after Kit graduated from high school. My father wanted to stay back and help us with the product, but we had assured him we had it under control, and Kit deserved a normal weekend to celebrate. Plus, we had joked with him that our mother would have killed him if he didn’t go along.
Witnesses who’d been interviewed stated my family had been on the lake for several hours, laughing and waving at passing boats, having a wonderful day. When the explosion happened, everyone had been stunned and yet as horrific as it had been to lose my parents, I’d been grateful Kit had been spared.