Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“We’re finishing our drinks,” Rosie said when Cade continued to stare at his sister.
His jaw twitched ever so slightly, everything else on his face remained blank, empty, which made the jaw twitch all the more terrifying.
Rosie put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes, then took a slow drink of her margarita. It was a power move I recognized, and I’d done such a thing in boardrooms with executives who thought I was their toy. It was simple but effective.
“You can glare at me all you want, Cade. I’m still going to finish my drink, catch up with my girl, and we’ll come in in our own good time. Five minutes isn’t going to kill anyone.”
“It just might,” Lucky muttered.
I grinned then sipped my drink to hide it.
Cade gave Rosie one more measured stare, as if he was figuring out if he could win this. In my eyes, this man would win most things, if not by the air of danger about him then by the straight-up hotness.
But even the badass hot president of a motorcycle club was no match for Rosie. “Longer than five minutes, I’m fuckin’ draggin’ you in there,” he grumbled.
“You can try,” Rosie offered.
Cade turned on his motorcycle boot and made his way into the room labeled “Church.” I knew what that was thanks to Sons of Anarchy. I also knew that civilians sitting at the table was not something that was done. Biker church was a sacred thing, where they discussed gun-running, murder, and how to perfect smoldering glares.
The surfer guy laid a hot kiss on Amy without any concern that such a kiss was usually reserved for a time when there wasn’t an audience.
My heart clenched with a memory of a certain macho-man who engaged in similar PDA, someone who I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
“Stay here. No running after murderers. You’re a mother now, remember?”
Amy frowned at her husband. “Who says I can’t run after murderers just because I’m a mother? I can have it all.”
“Amen, sista,” Rosie muttered.
The man sighed and looked to Lucky, who held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me, bro. I’ve got a pregnant wife who I’m still not stupid enough to say that shit to.”
Brock glared at the man and then kissed his wife again. “Just stay here, Sparky,” he growled then walked off.
Lucky gave me a wink and followed him.
I watched men trickle into the room, each of them wearing the Sons of Templar cuts. A couple of younger looking men wore “Prospect” on the bottom without the patch. Most of them were covered in tattoos. Not all of them looked like they could grace the covers of GQ, as there were some more stereotypical older bikers with beer guts, but very few.
“Rethinking your choice?” Rosie asked with a glint in her eye.
“My choice?”
“Duke,” she said. “Sure, he’s a hot piece of ass in an All-American, polished type of way—which I totally get—but the bad-boy thing is hard to turn away.”
“Try impossible,” Amy offered.
“It wasn’t a choice,” I said without thinking. “Duke. He wasn’t a choice. And even if he was, it’d still be him. Always.”
Both women stared at me, something serious moving in their eyes. Not for long, of course. They both grinned after a beat.
“Oh shit,” Amy said, draining her drink. “I’m going to have to make more margaritas for this.” She turned on her heel to walk toward what looked like a fully equipped wet bar.
“And shots,” Rosie called after her. She drained her drink too. “Ready for this?”
“Not at all,” I told her honestly.
She grinned wider, not perturbed. “Perfect.”
“Okay, as you can see, we’ve got somewhat of a situation,” Cade addressed the table.
We had finished our drinks, did a tequila shot each, and only then did we walk into “church.”
The table was full by then, and I had to admit, it was damn intimidating. Well, that was until Lucky caught my eye with a grin, pointing to the empty chair beside him hopefully.
Yeah, that helped.
Rosie exchanged greetings with most of the men at the table, which showed the admiration and respect these men had for her.
Cade watched her do this with that same blank gaze. He no longer had the pissed-jaw twitch. I figured he was resigned to such behavior from his sister and she was definitely not a woman who would ever change.
“As you can see, we have a guest.” Cade nodded toward me and I held my breath as every eye at the table focused on me.
Lucky fucking applauded.
Then everyone looked to him. He gaped at his brothers. “Come on, guys, this is a three-time Oscar winner.”
Cade ignored this. “For those of you who don’t know, Anastasia is the key witness in the case against Coleson Kitsch. He’s a fucking piece of shit that has been thus far untouchable.” Cade paused for effect, and it totally worked. I was following every move, mostly because of his charisma, and also because I had no fucking clue what the plan was here.