Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I know the answer before she says anything because her smile is so wide it has to hurt.
“Things are great, Willow. Really great. We’re in love, and that’s wonderful, but he’s so much younger than me.”
I roll my eyes. “And? He doesn’t seem to mind, so why do you?”
She stops in the middle of the kitchen and stares at me. “Tell me honestly. Do we look weird together?”
Her brows dip in concern as if she’s really concerned about my answer, so I give it careful thought.
“Maven, no one is thinking about you and Wilder except you.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s not an answer.” Maven folds her arms over her chest and gives me the look. “Your refusal to answer is an answer, Willow.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Maven. No, I don’t think you look weird together. But I’m not who you’re worried about, am I? Bitches will admire you for landing a hottie like Wilder. Are some gonna hate on you? Yeah, and we both know it’s because they’re jealous. That man is hot with a capital H, and bitches want you to doubt yourself, to doubt your relationship, so they can slide right in and take what’s yours.”
I go to her and rest my hands on her shoulders to make sure she’s looking at me. “If you want to fuck it up and leave room for those bitches to take him, go right ahead because the club whores? All they want is to be made someone’s Ol’ lady. And you, Miss Maven Yates, are Wild Man’s ol’ lady.”
“Old Lady? Apparently, in more ways than one,” she jokes, but I can see the worry burning deep in her hazel eyes.
“Is this just about you and Wilder and the age thing? Or are you worried about the danger of being with a biker?”
Unlike me, Maven never wanted a biker, so the danger might not be worth loving Wilder.
Maven looks at me and half-nods, half-shakes her head, but the sigh that rushes out of her tells the truth.
“Yes and no. Wilder will help fix up my place so I can sell it, and then I’ll move in with him. As long as lockdown is in effect, I know I’ll be safe. But,” she sighs and looks over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “I bought a gun after the whole Cyrus thing, so I’m less worried now.”
My eyes widen. “Holy shit, for real? Watch out, Maven, you just might be the baddest biker bitch of all!”
Maven smiles, and an adorable blush blooms on her cheeks. Before she can insist she’s not a badass, the door swings open, and Letty saunters into the kitchen.
“Letty? What are you doing here?”
Still looking uncomfortable in jeans and boots, Letty rubs her palms down her legs with a nervous smile. “I came to pick up the breakfast order for the club. But I came back here because two cops came inside with me, asking if I know Maven.”
“For me?” The question comes out as a squeak, and I don’t blame her. Cops are always bad fucking news around here, even more so when you’re hooked up with a motorcycle club. “Okay, I’ll see what they need,” she says evenly, but I can tell she’s secretly freaking the fuck out.
I follow Maven and Letty back to the front of the bakery. Stone has come inside and stands casually at the counter with a blank expression that gives the impression he’s not paying attention, but I can tell that his eyes are taking in every detail, ears listening to every word. His gaze lingers on the two detectives pretending to look at the desserts while they case the place.
“Hello, gentleman,” Maven says in her most professional tone, the one she uses on difficult customers. “How can I help you?”
“I’m Detective Scott,” says the taller man with slicked-back brown hair, a frown on his face. “This is Detective Powell, and we need to ask you some questions about a Cyrus Palacio. You know him?”
“Cyrus?” She frowns and nods. “I don’t know what I could tell you. The last I saw him, some of your colleagues were hauling him out of here for putting his hands on me after I told him our relationship was over.”
I can tell immediately they don’t believe her.
Powell leans in and scrapes a hand over his beard. “When did you last see Cyrus?”
Maven blinks. “I just told you. I don’t know what date it was, but I’m sure it’s on record since he was arrested by Angel Harbor PD. I presume someone bailed him out, probably his brother. Nogales, I think, but I don’t know if that’s his first or last name.”
They ignore her tip about Nogales and lean in closer. “Have you spoken to him since his arrest?”
“No. I broke up with him, and then he hit me. That’s the last I saw or heard of him. What is this about?” Maven folds her arms, giving her best impression of a woman unafraid of these legal bullies.