Preacher (The Untouchables MC #5) Read online Joanna Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Untouchables MC Series by Joanna Blake
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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And I wouldn’t have stopped with one measly kiss.

I would have thrown her over my shoulder and run for the hills.

”A few of you have already met my replacement. He goes by the name of Preacher. It might surprise you that we are the same age. I feel like an old man next to my friend.”

I had been watching the crowd, but I turned to look at him. Goddamn it. He was not supposed to die first. I was. Shot by some girl’s old man after I stuck my dick where it didn’t belong. Or riding too fast. Or even in a drunken brawl. I didn’t want this for him. I hated it.

I told God for the hundredth time to take me instead of Paul. I would happily trade places. I knew it would make the world a better place.

“There is no better man. He may be a little unorthodox, but so are we. I know you will welcome him with open arms.”

I couldn’t help but drag my eyes over to Cynthia. She was looking right at me. Our gazes collided and locked. I couldn’t help the sensual smile that curved my lips at the thought of her welcoming me with open arms.

Her brows snapped together as if she knew what I was thinking.

Oh, yeah, working with her is going to be hell. But in a good getting your nuts twisted by a beautiful woman kind of way.

I smiled a little wider. I could hardly wait.

Chapter Four

Cynthia

“Come back to us soon,” I whispered as I hugged the Reverend goodbye. He patted my back.

“It’s in God’s hands now.” He pulled back at the sound of my sniffle. “Don’t worry. Preacher is tougher than he looks.”

“Tougher?” I asked incredulously. The man looked like he was made of leather and steel. He couldn’t have looked any tougher if he were wearing combat armor.

I didn’t even let myself think about how oddly appealing I found it, either.

“He’s up to the task. Just help him. He needs your guidance.” He leaned in as if he were imparting a great secret. “He was a bit disorganized when we were in the seminary together. I fear it has only gotten worse.”

“You want me to babysit him?”

Reverend Paul laughed and nodded.

“It would bring me great comfort to know you were looking after him.”

I groaned inwardly but smiled and nodded. How could I say no? And it’s not like I wanted the place to fall down around our ears. There was too much riding on the church. We’d made great strides with the community. They needed us.

“I promise.”

His whole face lit up in a smile so beatific, it almost looked as if he were well again. Then he stepped back and I saw the way his clothes hung off his body. The faint tint of yellow in his skin. I knew. Deep down, I knew that there was a chance I would never see him again.

A very good chance.

Tears filled my eyes as I watched him give his final farewells to the staff. I watched as he gripped Preacher’s arm and said something to him. Preacher’s cold blue eyes snapped to my face, then back to Reverend Paul’s. I felt that look like a knife, but it didn’t hurt.

No, it felt hot instead. Penetrating but not invasive. It was like he saw me. Every damn thing about me.

I stepped back as they embraced like brothers. I told myself a man who loved the Reverend couldn’t be that bad. The tears started flowing as Paul got into the waiting taxi. Clarice put her arm around me as the taxi pulled into the quiet street and turned the corner. I looked up at her and saw that her mascara and eye makeup were running streaks of blue, green, and black down her face.

“I look a mess but I don’t care. I love that man.”

“You look like a rainbow melted,” I said. She burst into laughter. So did I. And then we were crying and laughing and hugging each other, all at once. It was a good five minutes before either one of us pulled away.

Clarice wiped her face with a vintage hanky and laughed.

“I am a mess, girl.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Please, girl. You look like you’re in some natural beauty commercial at all times. That face could sell soap.” She gave me a once-over. “A whole lotta other things, too.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Maybe I am. But I’m right!”

She flapped her hanky at me and shook her head.

“I’m off to put this face back on. I’ll see you for evening classes?”

“You know you will.”

She tottered off in her high platform heels, cursing a blue streak when she stumbled on an uneven part of the sidewalk. I laughed at the way she deliberately pulled herself up and walked off like nothing had happened. The woman had more dignity than most, even when she was being silly.


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