Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
The smell of orange and coconut assaults my senses and I inhale deep.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“You smell tropical.”
“It’s called sun-kissed. Mom added to my collection.”
“At this rate, we’ll need to build you more shelves to hold all your shit.”
“It’s not shit; it’s a part of my beauty routine.”
“Pretty useless to fuck with perfection.”
“It’s amazing how you can go from total asshat to sweetheart in zero-point-two seconds.”
“I’ll be even sweeter when you put on another shirt.”
Her eyes narrow, and she purses her lips. “I’m not changing, Major. Get over it.”
The resolve in her tone tells me we could go round and round, and I’d lose.
“You get your play tonight, babe. But when we get back to your place, I’m burning this fucking shirt.”
“That may hurt Mom’s feelings.”
“You have the next four hours to get her used to the idea.”
She throws her head back, jiggling with laughter.
I walk us back to the bar. Before setting her down, I plant a hard kiss on her mouth. “Behave.”
She pushes off, rushing to help Harley, who’s in the weeds.
“You and Ace are losing your touch,” Tom complains, handing me a beer.
“You won’t see that shirt again after tonight.”
On my way to our reserved area, I take in the servers on the floor. Each female server wears the normal Tom’s uniform shirt, but all are styled to show a lot of skin. Considering Tom has a soft spot for Jewls and Harley, it’s understandable he disapproves of their skimpy attire.
Ace appears about as happy as me when I get to his side. “Burning that fucking shirt when we get home.”
Oh yeah, we’re definitely on the same page. “Surprised she’s still in it.”
He side-eyes me with a look that would terrify most men. “She’s also wearing my ring.”
“Touché.” I take a large gulp.
“Okay, I can see you’re not happy, but the shirts are a hit.” Margo turns in her stool to us. “I wish I had the body to pull that off.”
Ace growls, and Amanda squeaks, dropping her head to hide her giggle.
“I prefer my girlfriend in clothes that cover her body when we’re in public.” The response comes out harsher than I intended.
“Don’t be an old fuddy-duddy. Get over it. We have more important things to discuss.”
“Like what?”
“Rowan.”
Ford straightens. “Is she okay?”
“She is doing well. She’s coming tonight.”
“Is that smart?”
“It’s healthy to be around people that love and care for you, which is what she needs.”
Margo’s extended visit has been busy. She wasted no time inserting herself into Rowan’s life. While Jewls was at work, Margo became a fixture at the salon. From the stories she’s shared, it sounds like it was more of a social scene than a healing ear. But whatever her tactic, it worked. Rowan opened up and agreed to see a therapist to help with the anxiety she’s experienced since the attack. Jewls had a list of recommendations ready to go.
Her wrist will be in a cast a little longer, but her face has healed. Going back to work was a good first step. During her time away, she taught herself how to work with her injured wrist, and called in a friend to help with all the services she can’t do yet. Her clientele is loyal and her business didn’t take a hit.
The last two nights on patrol, I’ve ridden by her building, texting to check in. She always responds with a grateful message and a picture of her armed alarm panel.
“We’ll make sure she gets home safe,” I assure Margo.
“That’s what I want to talk about. First, though, any word on her case?”
“Nothing we can share.”
“Rowan is embarrassed that her tip was nothing.”
“No reason to be embarrassed. Her ex has an air-tight alibi. We spoke to the woman he was with that night, and she confirmed explicitly what they were doing.”
“Fucking skank,” Ace rumbles.
He’s not lying. Craig definitely downgraded in the woman department when he lost Rowan. His newest conquest is trashy and had no problem giving us blow-by-blow details of her night with him. Literally. I wouldn’t want to put that woman in the back of a squad car, much less stick my dick in her.
“Time for another round?” Jewls fills the women’s glasses with some red concoction. Harley replaces all our bottles.
“What’d we miss?”
“I was about to tell the boys to lay off the overprotective act,” Margo tells Jewls.
“Mom, you’re wasting your breath. They came out of the womb as protectors. Look at them.”
“Yes, but maybe they could treat her like the beautiful young woman she is instead of a victim.”
“She has a point.” Jewls looks at each of us.
“She thinks we pity her?” Ford questions.
“She thinks you’re nice to her because of her position in the girls’ lives. And now she thinks you’re big brothering her.”
“So, when she arrives tonight, act normal,” Harley advises.
“Incoming.” Amanda waves her hands at us.