Mad Jack (Men of Action #3) Read Online Ahren Sanders

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Action Series by Ahren Sanders
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
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“Fine? Getting shot is not fine! Just like getting stabbed is not fine!” Rowan’s on the verge of hysterics, and the room takes on a lethal vibe.

“Baby, come here.” I step forward and she retreats.

“Nope, you neglected to share that your best friend was shot! With a gun.”

Not smart to point out that all GSWs are from guns. So, I try another approach.

“We were out of town for four days, and as you can see, he’s good.”

If possible, her eyes bead, blazing even hotter.

“They were off sexing it up. What’s your excuse?” Jewls yells at Major.

“You’re thirty-four weeks pregnant and we were moving.”

“You let him lift heavy objects! What kind of friend does that?”

“He’s good,” Major repeats my words.

“Achilles Kingston, you better have something better to say.” Harley props her hands on her hips, tapping her toe.

Ace doesn’t reply, holding her stare. The anger dies out of her eyes and they pool with tears.

“That’s not fair. I can handle it.”

“Not putting you through that again,” he replies gently.

My mind goes back to the day she stormed into the hospital in South America, full of flare and sass. The instant she saw him in the bed, she lost it.

“He’s good, babe,” Ace says solemnly.

A maniacal laugh cuts through the room, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

“Oh yes, he’s good. Because I’m taking care of him from this moment on.” Rowan dumps her bag out on the table, and tubes go skittering. “Take off your shirt.”

Talon does a doubletake at her and us.

“Don’t gawk at them for permission. Take off your shirt or I’ll rip it off.”

“Oh shit.” Talon raises his shirt over his head, revealing the bandage.

The instant her fingers pull at the tape, a low rumble echoes from my throat.

“Get over it. I’m nursing him.”

She exposes the wound and stops briefly, drawing in a deep breath, then goes about cleaning it. It’s been almost a week and it’s healing. But the skin is still swollen and bruised.

“These are coconut-infused wipes. And this is a salve with coconut oil. Use it three times a day to help with scarring.” She applies the ointment, and it’s all I can do to remain in place.

“I created these after Ford was stabbed.”

Talon’s smug grin falters, and he glances at me before saying, “Appreciate it, Hollywood.”

“And tonight, dinner is your choice. Whatever you want, any and all your favorites.”

“Your potatoes, the rest—surprise me.”

“Text me your ETA and I’ll have it ready.”

At this, I’m done. “Rowan?”

“Hmmm?” She continues to baby his wound.

“Babe, I’ll text you our ETA.”

“You need to get take-out. I’m not feeding you. This is Talon’s night.”

There’s a collective groan from the men and a chuckle from Robbie.

Irritation and jealousy stir in my gut. “I need the room.”

Jewls and Harley want to argue but trudge past us. Talon puts on his shirt and kisses Rowan’s cheek, whispering something behind her hair so I can’t read his lips.

Shithead.

When we’re alone, she packs up her things, ignoring me, not stopping when I wrap my hands around her waist. “Baby, your snit is unwarranted.”

“He’s hurt, and you didn’t tell me. We had to hear it through the dads.”

“He’s been through worse, and we didn’t want to worry you.”

She whips around, her face now a mask of fear. “Do you think I can’t handle it? Your job comes with danger and risks.”

I cup her cheek, lacing my fingers through her hair, and hold her stare. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, Rowan. Never doubt that.”

The fear clears, and she grips my wrist.

“Don’t withhold things. Talon is a groomsman in our wedding and uncle to our future children. I want to take care of him.”

She drones on, but only one thing sticks in my head.

“You saying you’ll marry me?”

She jerks back, realizing her mistake.

That day in Miami, she fully evaded the question, telling me we needed more time. I gave her that, knowing I’d won my position on the house.

We spent the last of our days in Miami wrapped up in each other, only leaving the room once more to make reservations I’d secured at a restaurant Shayla recommended.

I held back mentioning it again, deciding to come clean about our work with Robbie and Finn. She deserves to know all she’s getting into, and I needed to feel out her response.

Like with everything, Rowan was supportive and accepting. But it didn’t escape me how she clung to me throughout the night and her concerned glances all morning.

“Slip of the tongue,” she offers curtly.

Now that she’s opened the subject, I’m ready.

“Best kind of slip.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Not me who shifted the conversation.”

“We are not talking about this here while I’m pissed.”

“No better place to talk about it.”

“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes in exasperation. “A conference room with a hall of people outside?”

“Last time didn’t produce the results I wanted. Time to change things up.”


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