Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Nothing anyone said helped.
Nothing brought Deanna back.
Nothing made the pain go away.
And nothing erased the mountain of significant mistakes he’d made since Deanna died.
He turned his back on Brenna and strode toward the door.
Who cared if she thought he was an asshole? Who cared what she thought of him at all? She didn’t know him, and he didn’t know her. Brenna was a means to an end. A job he had to perform to regain the club’s trust and help get their money back from Oliver.
That she happened to be hot and just his type made no difference whatsoever.
Neither did the compassion in her gaze.
“Mind taking Caleb into the kitchen?”
“Oh, uh, sure. I can do that.” She stared at the baby as though he was a bomb waiting to explode, which made Lock chuckle. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one who had no idea what to do with a kiddo. Well, he supposed he knew now.
“Hey, Prez,” he said as he yanked the door open with too much force.
As usual, Curly did a head-to-toe visual scan before returning the greeting. It had become his little ritual every time Lock had seen him since leaving rehab. The prez probably wasn’t even aware of performing the assessment. Apparently, he needed a few seconds to clock whether Lock was wasted before choosing how to interact with him.
It hurt like hell, but he deserved it and wasn’t stupid enough to challenge his president.
Curly must have liked what he saw because he stepped into the house and clapped Lock on the back. “Hey, brother. Looking good.”
Spec followed the president into the house with a muttered, “Sorry, man,” two seconds before his ol’ lady, Olivia, appeared.
“Lock!” she said, with a sunny grin revealing her perfect teeth. She wrapped her slender arms around him and squeezed tight. “You look so great. I hear you have a special guest.”
For fuck’s sake.
As he returned Olivia’s hug, he scowled at Spec, who shrugged. “I said sorry. She promised we could try this thing I saw online the other day if I let her tag along. It’s—”
“Ugh.” Lock lifted a hand. “Keep it in your pants, fucker. I don’t need to hear that shit.”
Spec snickered and followed Olivia, who made herself right at home searching out his special guest. It took her all of three seconds to spot her in the kitchen.
“You must be Brenna. I’m Olivia, but call me Liv,” Lock heard her saying as he walked back toward the kitchen.
“Oh, uh, hi,” Brenna responded.
“I am so sorry for this mess you found yourself in. I can only imagine how these brutes handled everything and what you must be thinking.”
Spec snorted as Lock entered the kitchen to find Liv sitting at the table with Brenna. A beaming Caleb sat perched on Liv’s lap, playing with her long, sparkly necklace. As was typical for Liv, she looked like she had just walked off a runway in Paris instead of off her ol’ man’s motorcycle.
“I’m a little… overwhelmed,” Brenna said. She sat wide-eyed, taking in Olivia.
Lock couldn’t help but snicker. Considering her preconceived thoughts on the club, Olivia had to be making her head spin. Liv was the opposite of everything Brenna thought she knew about MC life, at least their MC life. Liv would crush Spec’s balls beneath the spiky heel of her thousand-dollar sandals if he so much as tried to treat her like his property.
“I’m sure you are. Spec filled me in a little.” Liv bounced her knee and smiled at Caleb as she spoke to the dazed Brenna.
Now that he’d found sobriety and could think clearly, Lock recognized how goddamn lucky he was to have so many incredible women in his life, showering his son with love each day.
“Sorry your ex turned out to be such a douche. If there’s anyone who knows about evil exes, it’s me. Isn’t that right, you cutie pie?” Her voice rose about six octaves as she shifted her attention to Caleb. “Yes, it is. Your Auntie Liv was engaged to a real piece of work.”
Spec grunted, making Liv roll her eyes. “Sorry. Spec gets all squirrely when I talk about my ex.”
Lock cleared his throat loudly.
Brenna jumped and focused on him.
“Can we get on with it? Uh, I’m sure Brenna would like some time to herself to catch her breath.” Not to mention he needed to start Caleb’s bedtime routine or he’d never get the little guy down, and the ripple effect would fuck up the entire night and the following day.
Liv winced. “Sorry, you’re right. I’ll shut up now.”
“Brenna, you met Spec and now Liv, and this is Curly,” he said, pointing toward his prez. “He’s the president of our MC.”
Curly pushed away from the refrigerator where he’d been leaning. “Hello, Brenna. Nice to meet you, even under the circumstances.”