Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Tracker?”
He blinked. Shit. Alicia still stood next to him with half her tits on display and an expectant expression. “Sorry, hon, like I said. Not tonight.”
She flounced away with another pout, walking straight to the bar and into Lock’s arm. No harm, no foul.
“You sick or something?” Jinx asked as he joined Tracker where he stood with his back resting against the far wall of the clubhouse.
Usually, he was the life of the party, but tonight he wasn’t feeling it. He sipped his beer, then said, “I just asked myself the same question.”
“Lock said Alicia is a literal porn star. Makes big bucks on some webcam site. Dude, you turned down something epic.”
Shit, it sounded like it would have been. Still, now that he knew, nothing. “Everybody has an off night, brother.”
Jinx stared at him like he’d started speaking Dothraki. “Sure, man, but you still have a dick on an off night. Maybe if you gave him a little love, your night would turn around.”
Laughing, Tracker’s gaze shifted to Spec and Olivia dancing to the heavy thrum of the music. Growing up, he’d been taught to keep room for the Holy Spirit between him and his dance partners. There wasn’t room for the air to flow between those two, let alone a deity.
“You might have a point,” he said to Jinx as he watched Spec wrap his hand around his ol’ lady’s nape and pull her in for a hot-as-fuck kiss.
Olivia was the newest addition to their little family. At first, no one who met her would have ever imagined her fitting in with the rough, crude group they were, but they’d be wrong. Liv was Spec’s missing puzzle piece. Her love grounded him in a way none of them had thought possible, and in return, he worshiped her.
As he should. She was a damn awesome woman.
“Think I might grab my girl and head home.”
He’d never seen a six-foot-six guy’s eyes bug out cartoon-style until that precise moment, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Jinx’s did just that.
“Choosing a dog over pussy? Okay, now I’m worried,” Jinx said. He dropped the playful tone. “Seriously, you good, man?”
Was he? Yeah, just in a weird funk for some unknown reason. “Yeah, I’m good. Swear it. Think I just need a quiet night for once.”
Jinx snickered. “You do like to keep busy,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows.
Tracker mustered up a playfulness he didn’t feel. “That I do, my man. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in action tomorrow.
“All right.” Jinx slapped him on the back. “But you know if you ever need anything, I…”
“Of course.” They didn’t need to do the whole mushy bromance thing. Tracker knew Jinx and the rest of them always had his back. That’s why he’d patched with the MC. He didn’t have contact with his own puritanical family. Black sheep didn’t begin to describe how they saw him. Most likely, they legitimately viewed him as a satanic entity only prayer and distance could save them from. After two lonely decades without a family, the MC had been too good to resist. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He snuck out the back door into the steamy summer Florida night. Their clubhouse was on a multi-acre plot of farmland, and Tracker loved the peace and privacy of their compound. Curly had renovated the main farmhouse into an epic clubhouse to serve as their home base. The ramshackle barn was remodeled into a four-apartment structure for future members. Spec and his ol’ lady lived there, but not for much longer. And as of last week, the property had a new structure, a free-standing building to house the dogs when they brought them around.
Curly’s ol’ lady was a dog trainer and often had rescues living with her and Curly’s two pups, Ray and Harley. Tracker had his baby, Betty, and he loved being able to bring her to the farm. On nights like tonight, she could be close but safe and sound in the doggie daycare as Brooke called it.
His phone vibrated as he made his way to pick up his favorite lady. Usually, he didn’t answer numbers he didn’t recognize, especially so late at night, but something had him lifting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Fin?”
He frowned. Who the hell called him Fin anymore?
“Holy shit,” he muttered as the voice registered. In an instant, his odd mood faded, and a hum of anticipation zinged through his blood.
She called.
She’d fucking called.
His grin grew. “Is this my favorite lady cop?”
She snorted. “Guess that depends on how many lady cops you know.”
“Oh, I love a good snarky retort.”
Jo chuckled. “Am I interrupting, uh, anything?”
His lips twitched. Anything like him fucking someone? “Nope. I was just leaving the cl…” He switched thoughts. “A party at a friend’s place.”
She fell silent.
“There a reason you’re calling so late at night, darlin’? Or did you just want to hear me breathing over the phone?”