Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“She’s a grocery store aficionado,” Hugger answered for me.
“Yes,” I also answered for me.
Big Petey was aiming a massive grin at Hugger. He stopped doing that as he made his way to the kitchen.
“Come keep me company, darlin’, while I make you some breakfast,” he invited Suzette.
She tentatively edged her way to the kitchen island even as she said, “I’m really not hungry.”
Pete turned to her, and he did not level Biker Grandpa! eyes on her.
He leveled Concerned Dad So You Better Listen to Me! eyes on her and replied, “You really gotta eat.”
Suzette tentatively moved even closer.
I was seeing this might just work on one level, that being Pete being pushier than I was comfortable with and doing it in a way Suzette apparently responded to.
I still had concerns about his age and his ultimate reason for being here.
Suzette’s protection.
Though, as she watched him familiarize himself with my kitchen, it was clear Suzette didn’t have those same concerns.
“Babe,” Hugger called.
Don’t ask me how I knew he was referring to me with that word, except for the fact he was likely not calling to Suzette, and definitely not Big Petey, but I turned my attention to him to see he was indeed referring to me.
“We goin’ or what?” he asked.
“Right. We’re going,” I answered. I looked between Big Petey and Suzette. “You guys good?”
“We’re golden. Go. See you later for tacos,” Pete replied.
Suzette just nodded to me.
I smiled at them both, went to the dining room, grabbed my tote and headed out with Hugger at my heels.
When we were at the elevator, I reached and tugged at his tee at the side of his abs.
Slowly, his head dropped to look at my fingers on his tee.
I let it go.
Equally slowly, he lifted his head and looked at me.
“Um…”
I didn’t know how to begin.
I plowed forward anyway.
“I’m not sure about Big Petey.”
“What aren’t you sure about?”
“Um…” I repeated but said no more.
“Spit it out, Diana,” he ordered.
“He’s not young.”
“Impressed with your powers of perception.”
I squinted irritably at him.
Hugger spoke. “Stop worrying. He can take care of business. Ink and Driver are out there with Muzzle keepin’ an eye on shit. And we hacked into the complex cameras last night.”
I stopped squinting so I could stare.
The elevator doors opened.
Hugger walked in and automatically, I followed.
He hit the button for the lobby level.
“You hacked the complex cameras?” I inquired.
“Resurrection has an ally who can do that kind of shit. This ally’s also got facial recognition software and their hands on pictures of all known associations of Imran Babić. Any one of his boys, or just anyone they don’t got a good feeling for, strolls anywhere near an elevator lobby, we’ll get a call.”
I was feeling a whole lot better about the scope of biker security services as the doors opened and we walked out.
“Ink and Driver?” I asked.
“More Aces.”
“How many of you are there?”
“A lot.”
Definitely feeling a whole lot better.
It was then I realized he was shoving out the door to the main entrance of the complex, and we weren’t on my parking level, as of course we wouldn’t be, because neither of us used a fob.
I stopped. “My car is down two levels.”
He turned to me, half in and half out of the door. “We’re taking my bike.”
Oh hell to the no, we were not.
“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle in my life.”
Something heated flared in his eyes, but he just said, “Today’s your day.”
“It’ll mess up my hair.”
His gaze went in that direction and his voice had a rough edge to it when he replied, “It absolutely will not.”
“Wind does that.”
He locked his eyes with mine. “Trust me.”
My voice was getting shrill because, really, I wasn’t sure about riding on his bike with him on the same bike.
And that wasn’t all about my hair.
“I’m wearing pumps!”
Yes, nude, patent leather pumps, along with pale pink crop pants and a silky baby-blue crewneck blouse. I was top to toe business casual, not biker babe.
“I’m gettin’ it,” he declared.
“Getting what?”
“Tyra, Lanie. Millie.”
“What?”
“Never got it before, definitely getting it now.”
“What?”
He came in so he wasn’t half out anymore, the door closed behind him, and he didn’t do this in order to explain his words.
He said, “One, I don’t think I’ll fit in your car.”
I hadn’t thought about this, but now that I was, I saw it was a concern.
“Two, your car is ridiculous and a deathtrap.”
I hadn’t thought about this either, but now that I was, it pissed me off.
“It is not!” I snapped.
His brows shot up. “You against an SUV or a dually, which is mostly what they got in this town, a town where I’ve noticed people pretty much go their own way no matter the widely accepted laws of the road, which are actual laws of the fuckin’ road, you’re toast.”
I’d never thought about this either, and I couldn’t say he was wrong.