Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
And there were bikers. Quite a few bikers. Maybe twenty, maybe slightly more. Some were mingling with the crowd. Some were dancing. Two were standing near the board table, watching the games, holding a beer in one hand. The rest were amongst themselves, taking up a large table in the corner of Rinascita, around the corner from the dancing.
Brett sighed. “It’s up to you.”
“What was the second part of our date?”
“Honestly?” He grinned at me. “Something similar. I wanted to take you to Jack’s BBQ. I talked to a friend of mine, that girl who showed up with me, and her bartender friend said we could use a back table if we ever wanted to go somewhere new. She said the back section could be roped off so we’d get some privacy. But this…” He went back to the crowd. “This is either a seriously bad idea or we’re going to have the best night ever.”
“Then we have to find out which one.”
“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced, but as if we were one being, we opened our doors, getting out at the same time.
Brett fell in step to my side, but slightly behind me, his hand to the small of my back.
“Hey ho! You made it.” The guy held his arms out, a fruity looking drink in one hand, and walked right to us, throwing both his arms around us. I twisted, catching his drink before he poured it down my back. Brett growled and shoved him back before he could completely close the distance. “No.”
The guy frowned. “Dude.” His head went to the side.
“No.” That was a firm no too.
The guy shifted to the side, taking me in, and he raised an eyebrow, his interest evident.
A creepy sensation slithered through me, and I began to step back from instinct.
Brett moved, stepping into the guy and forcing him back from me as Brett took my hand, lacing our fingers, He moved me away from the guy, turning so he was in the guy’s face, and he was looking down since he was taller. There was no growl this time. Just an edgy calm that had my blood spiking as he said, “Don’t know you. Don’t want to know you. And if I see you breathing the same air as my woman, I’ll break your dick.”
The guy turned red, sputtering.
“Touch her and die. Do not test me.”
The threats were delivered smoothly, succinctly, and Brett led me forward, leaning over to say, “He’s the kind of guy that needed to be put in his place or we’d have problems with him later on.”
I squeezed his hand, trusting him.
When we passed the first set of picnic tables, there were two empty ones on our right. The left was where all the bikers were lounging, and we got two steps before one of them shoved up to his feet. “Hey!”
Brett stopped, facing away. His hand tightened on mine, just briefly.
“Hey, man. He—”
Brett’s jaw clenched once before he swiftly faced the guy, and as he did, the biker stopped in his tracks, surprised by suddenly how in-his-face Brett was being. The biker was tall, but he still came one or two inches below Brett. Lean. Golden tan skin that glistened with a small amount of sweat. He wore a leather cut, nothing underneath showing a smooth and slightly ripped stomach with a few tattoos on his chest. His jeans looked well-worn and hung from his hips. Dark hair that was messily rumpled. A thick barbell pierced through one of his eyebrows. Dark eyes that were squinting as he held a beer up, a finger pointing toward Brett.
“That guy was a friend of yours?” Brett’s question threw him off.
The finger and beer dropped, and he raked a hand up the back of his head, bringing it toward the front through his hair. “Huh?”
Most of the bikers were watching our exchange, but I skimmed their faces. None looked disturbed. Most seemed curious.
Another biker got up from their table, an inch shorter than the first one, but thicker. He was solid.
Though, not as solid as Brett.
This one wore a white T-shirt under his cut. Baggy jeans. Chains hung down over the sides. This one had greasy blond hair and laughing brown eyes. He was white, but with a golden tan. His face was slightly too flat across the front to be considered handsome, but he had an arresting quality to him.
Also, the bad boy vibe was thick with both of these men.
Their entire table, even the women that were with them.
The guy who joined us slapped his buddy on the back, his hand staying and resting on his shoulder. “Shark, you don’t know this man.” He tipped his other hand toward Brett, the one also holding onto a beer bottle. He gave Brett the slightest bit of a nod, a coy smile tugging at his mouth. His eyes were sober, amusing.