Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
My brother pulled up in his truck and I nodded at him.
Tasha blushed and buried her face into my back, causing Corbyn to grin unrepentantly.
“You wanna go out for some dinner?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, let’s go to the Japanese grill just down the road.”
Corbyn nodded and gestured me on, and I nodded at him in thanks.
He probably wouldn’t have extended the same courtesy had I not had Tasha on the back of my bike.
Tasha stiffened when I started to accelerate faster than I’d ever done before and reluctantly wrapped her arms around me.
I knew she was still pissed.
Hell, I don’t know what I would’ve done if the reverse had happened to me but violence would’ve definitely been involved, I was sure.
I’d kind of fucked up our evening by not introducing her beforehand.
I should’ve.
Corbyn had refused to stand up because he hated how my mom went from man to man without a care in the world.
The entire thing was, in fact, a huge joke.
Not to my mother, of course, but to her children.
We were all fathered by different men, except for me and Corbyn.
Not that I didn’t like all of her other husbands. They were all basically great guys.
But I didn’t like how she got tired or bored and then kicked them to the curb without a backwards glance.
I slowed down to stop at the traffic light that headed to the main highway that ran through Gilmer and reached back to rest my hand on Tasha’s exposed thigh.
I felt her shiver at my back, and I had to bite down on a curse.
I wanted her.
I’d never wanted a woman so bad in my life.
Tasha’s phone vibrated in my shirt pocket, and I reached in to glance at it quickly to make sure it wasn’t anything important.
My teeth gritted as I saw the unknown number’s text message.
Unknown (10:03 PM): It was nice to see you again.
Fire burned through my veins as I realized just what had happened.
She’d been in the car with her fucking admirer. She had to have been.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and rode hard to the Japanese restaurant.
Once there, I waited on the sidewalk until Corbyn pulled his truck in next to my bike.
“Will you take her inside with you? I have a phone call to make,” I questioned Corbyn.
He nodded and held out his arm for Leslie.
She looped her arm around his and offered his other one to Tasha.
Tasha looked back at me with reluctance, and at my nod, she moved to his arm, placing a soft hand on his forearm.
I waited until they were out of sight before I called Mig.
“Yeah?” Mig answered shortly.
I could hear Vitaly bellowing with rage in the background, so I made it short and sweet.
“I need you to pull the feed from the winery. I think we got our boy.”
The conversation was short, but Mig said he would do it within ten minutes and signed off, allowing me to go into the restaurant to find my woman.
Yes, that’s right. My woman.
If she was reacting at the thought of me fucking another woman, then her heart was in it as deep as mine was, which was what I was waiting for.
A sign that she was in it with me.
My hand raised on its own accord, running along the split in my lip.
And I smiled.
She had a mean right hook.
Idly, I wondered who taught her how to hit.
But when I got to the table, she didn’t look happy to be there at all.
Corbyn was laughing about something. Leslie was flushing red. And I knew instantly that my brother was being his usual annoying self.
“Corbyn,” I growled. “Don’t be a fucking douche.”
Tasha looked up at me with a grateful expression, and Leslie snorted delicately under her breath.
I took my seat between Leslie and Tasha, scooting so close to Tasha that she would’ve scooted the opposite way had someone not been directly beside her.
This particular Japanese restaurant was a hibachi style, so we were seated around the big flat top grill, and there were other people at our table. The chef worked at the grill in front of us, putting on a show as he prepared the food for the table.
I wasn’t a fan of the theatrics that most of these chefs took, more wanting my food than the fucking volcano that the chef would make with the onions, but it seemed to be popular with the women and children.
“I was just telling your woman about that time your high school girlfriend walked in on me fucking…” Corbyn started, but I held my hand up to stop him.
“Stop. Please. You’ve already helped enough today,” I growled.
“What do you do, Tasha?” Leslie asked, changing the subject.
Tasha leaned forward so she could see Leslie, and said, “I’m a coach at the high school in Jefferson.”