Holding On (Ruthless Sinners MC #2) Read Online L. Wilder

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Ruthless Sinners MC Series by L. Wilder
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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“That she does.” He chuckled. “I remember being all torn up when I totaled my truck in high school. I thought it was the end of the world, but Madeline was all chipper about it, convincing me that my old truck wasn’t all that great, and how I had a chance to get a new ride. She even searched the classifieds and then handed me a list of trucks to take a look at … I ended up buying one of them.”

“I can totally see her doing that.” There was something about his tone that made me wonder if he was secretly interested in his childhood friend. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Madeline was an amazing girl, and any man with a good head on his shoulders would be able to see that. I didn’t want to start something with a guy who was pining for someone else, so I asked, “So, you and Madeline are pretty close, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “As close as two friends can be.”

“Is there a reason why you two never dated?”

“There was a time when I considered it”—his eyes drifted down to the table—“but we never seemed to be single at the same time.”

And there it was. The stupid red flag. Damn.

“So, you were interested in dating her?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I don’t know. From colleges to our careers, we were always on different paths.” His eyes met mine as he continued, “But regardless, I’m a firm believer that things work out the way they’re supposed to.”

While Thomas was doing his best to say the right thing, I could read between the lines. He had a thing for Madeline. As much as I might’ve liked him, I knew pursuing anything further would just end up with me regretting it. I was trying to think of the best way to let him know that the two of us dating wouldn’t be a good idea when a man walked up to our table. He had dirty blond hair, beady green eyes, and a police badge was proudly perched on his hip. A crooked, smug smile crossed his face as he said, “Well, if it ain’t the almighty, Detective Long.”

I had no idea who the man was, but it was clear from Thomas’s expression that he wasn’t pleased to see him. “Mathews. Thought you were on duty tonight.”

“I am. Just stopped in to grab myself a bite to eat.” There was something about Mathews that rubbed me the wrong way. It probably had to do with the unexplained tension that was radiating off of Thomas as he stared back at him. Or maybe it was the fact that he was wearing a polo shirt at least one size too small in hopes of making his bulging muscles look even more pronounced. Whatever it was, I had a bad feeling about him, especially when he turned his attention to me. “Got yourself a real pretty lady.”

“Isn’t it time for you to get back at it?”

“I’ve got some time.” His eyes remained focused on me as he asked, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

“Mathews,” Thomas warned. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Damn, Long. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.” Mathews reached down and picked up Thomas’s glass of sweet tea, taking a long drink before placing it back down on the table. “I’ll let you two get back to it. Have a good one.”

Mathews glanced at me, gave me an inappropriate wink, and then he walked out of the restaurant without his takeout. Once he was out of sight, I looked over at Thomas. His back was still rigid and his expression stern, but he tried to feign a smile as he said, “Sorry about the intrusion.”

“It wasn’t exactly something you could help.”

“No, unfortunately, it wasn’t.”

He called the waitress over and ordered another drink. We continued eating, but our friendly banter had turned stilted and awkward. I could only assume that it had something to do with Mathews’ rude exchange, but I didn’t bother asking. I wasn’t planning on seeing him again anyway. It didn’t mean I didn’t care that the guy was having a bad day, though. When I noticed him nervously fiddling with his watch, I looked down at his wrist and briefly studied the silver facing with the worn-out leather band. “I really like your watch.”

“Thanks.” He extended his hand, revealing the weathered band and an oversized clock face that looked to be at least fifty years old. A proud smile crossed his face when he said, “It was my dad’s. He was an officer too. Got killed in the line of duty.”

“Oh, Thomas. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“No need to be sorry. It was ages ago.” He pulled his hand back and studied the watch a moment. “He was a good man and an even better cop. I’ve always tried to follow in his footsteps, but it’s not as easy as I thought it’d be.”


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