Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“Church?” she asks over her shoulder as she returns to the kitchen.
Why didn’t I just use an easier to understand civilian word? “Not what you’re thinking.” I follow her into the kitchen and set my mug on the counter. “It’s our mandatory meeting where we all sit down and touch base about club business, discuss problems, see if anyone needs anything, plan future road trips, stuff like that.”
A slight smirk plays at the corners of her kissable lips. “How very corporate of you.”
She pushes through the door that leads to the hallway. My gaze strays to her pink shoes neatly lined up on the bottom step, then higher.
No. I’m not walking her upstairs or asking to see her place. No matter how sober she seems now, it’s not the right time. I’ve never slept with a woman who wasn’t one hundred percent with it and I’m not starting now. No matter how much I want her.
Nothing I “teach” her would probably stick, anyway.
Keep telling yourself it’s all about the lessons, buddy.
The hint of amusement on her face fades. She puts her back to the door leading outside and stares up at me. “You won’t discuss…this…you know, what I asked you to teach me with your club, right?”
“What? No. What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“Well, you pointed out that your deal with my father is a business relationship and you said church is for discussing business…” She shrugs.
“Gotcha.” I nod quickly. “No, I won’t say anything.” Unless it becomes a problem. Z doesn’t tell anyone else where to stick their dicks. In fact, he was fuckin’ Stella, our most valuable porn star, before he married Lilly. So it’d be real hypocritical of him to say something about me “educating” Margot. Hell, even Rooster has only suggested I not fuck his mother-in-law to be.
No, wait. Those threats probably weren’t suggestions.
This deal is Upstate’s action. But there’s no fuckin’ way I’m asking Teller for his, what, permission? Fuck that. Besides, Rock told me to keep Margot occupied, so I’m following orders. The daughter of our business partner has a problem and I’m going to help her solve it. Simple as that.
That’s the excuse I’ll use if the club finds out and questions me. I can say it with a straight face—probably.
“I won’t say anything about us unless I have to,” I promise.
“Why would you have to?”
I open my mouth but the answer I’m about to give negates everything else I told her tonight.
If our relationship becomes more than a few fuck lessons.
If it turns into something real.
If I want to introduce you to the club as my ol’ lady and give you my patch.
Which absolutely isn’t going to happen.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jigsaw
I was right about Z and Rock calling everyone for church the next morning. Good thing I stayed at the main Upstate clubhouse instead of going to the new one down in Empire. All I had to do was get dressed and walk downstairs. I don’t even have to bother with my boots.
The clubhouse is quiet as I jog down the hardwood stairs. In the living room, the large flat-screen TV on the wall is on at a low volume. Cartoons play across the screen, but it’s not some of the club’s kids busy watching. Sparky’s giddy, childlike giggles and Stash’s harsh guffaws break the silence. They’re sprawled on the couches in the same exact spots they were last night when I came in. Their dedication to laziness could make a sloth jealous.
I eyeball the twin two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew on the floor with suspicion.
Sparky flips his gaze to me and sits up. “You stay here last night?” He yawns and stretches his arms high, lifting his shirt to show off his pasty white belly. He slowly eases himself off the couch and yawns again.
“I literally talked to you two clowns when I came in,” I remind them, amusement and a hint of exasperation coloring my tone. “Remember I asked if Murphy’s room was free and you said, ‘nothing in life is free’ then fell off the couch giggling?”
Sparky glances at Stash who shrugs and rolls off the couch, landing on his feet.
“Why are you walking around barefoot?” Sparky approaches while staring at my feet like he finds them personally offensive.
I wiggle my toes. “What? I have nice feet. After church I’m going to go outside and touch some grass.” I glance down at his big, woolly socks. “You should give it a try sometime.”
He giggles like a five-year-old. “I touch grass all the time. I’m one with the grass.”
“You’re one with something, all right,” I growl.
“Great comeback,” Stash sneers.
“Give me time. I just got up.” I reach out and smack the ends of his unruly hair. “You ever bother to brush that shit? Looks like a squirrel-tail hat my pappy had when I was a kid.”