Reaper’s Legacy Read Online Joanna Wylde (Reapers MC, #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Drama, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reapers MC Series by Joanna Wylde
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
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Ruger could get laid anytime—Noah only had one mom.

The kid ran in and stopped, eyes wide as he took everything in.

“Is this my room?” he asked.

“Um, yeah,” Ruger said. “Looks like it. What do you think?”

“Cool!” Noah said. “I’ve never had a room like this. Mom, you gotta see the yard!”

He tore off again. Then Horse stuck his head in, offering Ruger a shit-eating grin.

“Nice, ain’t it?”

“We should talk,” Ruger said to him, jerking his chin toward the living room. Sophie took the opportunity to dart through the door and investigate the second bedroom.

Horse nodded, and Ruger followed him out.

“What the fuck happened here?” Ruger asked, keeping his voice low.

“What do you think?” Horse said. “Marie. She and the girls came over to fix the place up. All of ’em. I asked her to.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“You want your baby mama and kid to feel good about stayin’ here, right?” he asked. “Maybe feel safe and welcome? Chicks need that. Figured it would make life easier. Not only that—made the girls happy to do it.”

“A heads-up would’ve been appreciated.”

“You were too busy pretending you don’t wanna fuck Sophie,” he replied, shrugging. “Someone needed to step in. Marie charged everything, by the way. I told her to leave the receipts for you upstairs, on the counter. You can give me a check now or I’ll catch you later.”

Ruger froze.

“Fuck, didn’t think of that,” he said, looking around again, appraising things with new eyes. How much did TVs cost, anyway? He glanced back at Horse, whose shit-eating grin had grown to full-on mockery.

Oh, crap …

“You did this on purpose,” he said. “You did it just to fuck with me, didn’t you? Like you give a flyin’ fuck about welcoming Sophie. You know I can’t take it back now. How much did Marie spend, asshole?”

“I told her to keep it under three grand,” Horse replied innocently. “And I think she got most of the furniture used. You know Marie, never spends money unless she has to. Hell, you don’t even have to pay her back, it’s not like you told her to do it. I’ll cover the bill if you won’t. Not every man provides for his family—takes all kinds. I get that …”

“You’re a cocksucking bastard,” Ruger said, advancing on him. Horse laughed.

“You’re a cocksucking bastard,” Noah repeated like a damned parrot. Ruger turned to find the kid standing in the open patio door, looking proud as hell.

“Oh my god,” he heard Sophie gasp. He spun around to find her bracing a hand against the wall at the entrance of the hallway. Fuckin’ perfect, because they really needed more to fight about, right? “Ruger, you can’t say things like that around Noah.”

“Gonna have to work on that mouth of yours, brother,” Horse told him. “Don’t wanna make Sophie mad. Like I said earlier, pretty sure she could take you in a fair fight. I’d pay to see it, too.”

“Get out,” Ruger said to him, jerking his head toward the stairs. “Just get the fuck out. Go home before I shoot you.”

Sophie opened her mouth. Ruger turned and stopped her with one look. Enough.

“This is my house,” he said. “I’ll talk however the fuck I want, and you’ll keep your goddamned mouth shut. Got me?”

She gaped as he turned and stomped back up the stairs. Behind him, he heard Noah chanting, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

He needed a beer.

Make that a shot.

SOPHIE

Noah glared at me like an angry leprechaun. He sat in time out on our couch, thanks to repeated use of his new favorite word.

I popped a beer and raised it in a silent toast to the women who’d come to clean, decorate, and fix us food. I’d been serious when I told Ruger I didn’t want to spend time with the club, but what they’d done for me was enough to make me reconsider.

At the very least, I’d need to make an appearance to say thanks. They even left me a card and a long welcome letter full of important information, everything from their cell-phone numbers to the address of Noah’s new school.

This was particularly important, because school would be starting on Monday, a full week earlier than back in Seattle. In addition to stocking the basics, they’d left me a pan of taco meat and all the fixings, ready to heat and serve. Thank God for that, because there was no way in hell I was going upstairs in search of food.

In fact, I had no intention of going upstairs at all, not without an invitation. I’d use the patio door. Safer that way. Not that I was still mad at Ruger—this was so much better than our old place that not even I could hold a grudge at this point. Nope, by then I was more scared of him, because the rules kept changing and I wasn’t sure where we stood.


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