Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
"Like that she called ya on yer shit," Adler added, smiling.
"I'm not asking that you give her access to the gun safe, Reign. Just let her stay here when she's in town."
Reign's lips twitched a bit. "If I said I didn't want that..."
"Then I guess I would have to get an apartment," I told him, lifting my chin a little, knowing I was playing with fire, that I was toeing the line with my loyalty. But I certainly wasn't the first - and I was sure I wouldn't be the last - who did so for a woman.
"Figured as much," he agreed, nodding. "It's fine. But if shit gets serious, we're going to need to address this again," he warned.
"I figured," I agreed, knowing there were too many loose ends in that possible future with the probability of her moving into town, what that would mean for both businesses, what it would mean for Cam and Astrid and all that.
I wasn't worried about Astrid per se. I'd gotten a text from her early in the morning telling me I better not hurt her girl or she'd go all Rambo on my ass. No matter what the future held, she would adjust, and be happy to do so if it meant Liv was happy. Cam was more of a loose end.
But that was something to think about later, when we were all together, when we could all discuss that kind of thing. However one went about having a discussion like that with someone who didn't, well, discuss anything.
We'd figure that out.
"Yo, it's you," Virgin called after a phone had vibrated on the bar. "Tell Ma thanks for the leftovers," he added, tossing my phone toward me.
"Hey Ma," I said, smile falling almost immediately.
"You'll never guess what I just weaseled out of your sister this morning."
Oh, shit.
"I expect to see her at my table on New Years, mijo."
And, well, there was no arguing with my mother.
TWELVE
Livianna
It was a big deal.
I didn't care how many times Roderick tried to feed me that bullshit about it not being a big deal; it was a big deal.
Meeting the family always was, right?
It was the basis of a ton of rom-coms.
There was always the jittery heroine being comforted by the hero who assured her that his family was going to love her, all the while the lying bastard knew damn well his parents wanted him to marry the girl next door with the twinkling laugh and not the uptight career-focused chick he actually fell for.
It was supposed to be hilarity that ensued, but it always made me feel squirmy and uncomfortable.
Now, that was fiction.
This was real life.
So that feeling was amplified by like a million, making me feel jittery and sweaty even though the compound was kept at a temperature Cam would approve of.
"Relax, mami. I promise my family isn't going to put you in the hot seat or anything. They know better."
"Because I am a criminal," I shot back, big-eyeing my reflection in the bathroom mirror while he sat off the edge of the bed like this dinner was not some giant test to our budding relationship.
"So?"
"So," I said, popping my head out into the bedroom. "I really doubt that your mother dreamed about you settling down with a woman who breaks the law for a living."
"Livvy, I break the law for a living," he reminded me unnecessarily.
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because they already love you," I told him, sighing as I decided that this outfit - my third one - wasn't going to work either. It was too casual. You didn't go to meet your boyfriend's mother wearing jeans and a plain long-sleeve tee. That was for when you knew them and they knew you and no one gave a shit anymore. I didn't want to go there looking like I didn't give a shit. That was not the right vibe to bring to this dinner.
"You're overthinking this."
"Am I? How do you know? How many women have you brought home to meet your mother?" I asked, nodding when he shook his head. "Exactly."
"My sisters have brought men home to meet her."
"Guys are different," I insisted, only realizing I was pacing when Roderick's hands shot out to grab me, pull me down on his lap.
"Yeah, because they don't give themselves ulcers over shit like this. My mom is going to like you. My sisters will too."
All five of them.
I had six people to try to impress.
That was a lot of pressure, the kind I wasn't used to. I never needed to try to impress anyone before.
"The club loves you," he reminded me as his hand started to rub reassuringly up and down my spine.
He had a point.
Over the past few days it seemed the word of me had made it through the grapevine, making all the members pop in to meet me.