Whiskey Neat Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Uncertain Saint’s MC #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Uncertain Saint's MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
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He sat up, running his hand down the length of my exposed leg before he stood up and headed to the bathroom.

We’d forgone condoms since the boat, and consequently I had a mess that needed to be cleaned up.

Which was why a wet rag hit the exposed skin of my thigh, causing me to screech as the coolness clashed with my overheated skin.

“God!” I jerked up to my knees, tossing a scowl over my shoulder at the man who was currently laughing while he brushed his teeth.

I grabbed the rag and covered my pussy as I walked into the bathroom, making sure to bump into his back so his cock touched the freezing cold porcelain of the sink.

He growled and I laughed.

I was so happy I could cry.

Six months ago, I would’ve never expected my life to turn out like it had.

And while I got ready for my night at Uncertain Pleasures, and Griffin got ready for a night of surveillance on Caddo Lake, I wasn’t upset that we weren’t going to spend our entire night together.

We’d have many more days to come.

And as he wrapped his arms around me the moment I walked out of our bedroom, I once again was struck with how handsome he was.

How lucky I was for having the man in my life.

“Gotta go, Queenie,” he rumbled.

I turned in his arms, looking up at him, and studying him for a long moment before I smiled.

“Be careful.”

He shook his head. “Always am, Queenie. Love you.”

Then he was gone, and although the worry for him was there, I set it on the back burner, knowing his brothers would have his back.

***

Four weeks later

“Hey,” I said, shifting nervously from foot to foot as I watched him start undressing.

His eyes were heated, and knowing.

“It’s positive?” He asked.

I nodded.

“How’d you know?” I asked.

His eyes, those beautiful blue ones I loved so much, were shining now.

“I know your body even better than my own. I know the changes…saw you change every day for the last week. A man knows when his woman’s knocked up,” he teased to hide the emotion pouring through him.

My mouth dropped open.

“You’re terrible,” I said, shaking my head and walking towards him,

He opened his arms to me, and I walked into them willingly, burying my nose into the crook of his arm.

The leather holster that crisscrossed his back and looped around each shoulder was pressed into my cheek, but I found that I quite liked the reassuring feel of it.

It signaled him as being home.

The leather and gun oil smell represented the start of a new day for us, and I counted on smelling it every night to ensure that he was safe.

His body was wound tight as I wrapped my arms around his chest, and I leaned my head back to study his face.

He was studying the ceiling with great concentration.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

His eyes tipped down to meet mine.

“More than okay,” he replied. “For the first time in a while I’m happy. I miss Tanner every single day, but it’s gotten to the point where I can make it through the day without breaking down. And that’s because of you. Of this.”

He pressed his large palm lightly against my belly and the tears pooling in my eyes spilled over and ran down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, pressing kisses to my cheeks where the tears were streaming down my face. “This baby’s going to have one hell of a guardian angel in Tanner. Tanner always wanted a brother and sister.”

And for some reason, that only made me cry harder.

***

Six months later

I swear, sometimes I don’t even realize I’ve gotten as far away from reality as I have.

There I was, sitting on the kitchen floor, eating the cheesecake that’d just fallen off the counter onto the floor, thanks to a very rambunctious Doogan.

“Dammit,” I said, looking down at the pile on the floor. “I really, really wanted that.”

Luckily, I’d just swept and mopped the floor, otherwise I would’ve really been crying instead of doing what I was doing.

It was shameful, sure, but it was a cheesecake!

One doesn’t simply pick a cheesecake up off the floor and throw it away.

If you’re a true lover of all things sweet, like I was this pregnancy, then you didn’t waste one single bit of the good stuff.

You did what you had to do.

Which was why as I was sitting on the floor, and heard the loud pipes of Griffin’s motorcycle pulling into the drive, I didn’t bother to get up.

Doogan was in the corner, looking at the pile of cheesecake with longing eyes, but I kept tossing him glares to ensure he didn’t think he was out of the proverbial doghouse.

The front door opened, then closed, and I took another scoop of cheesecake with my fork before looking up.

The moment Griffin made it into the kitchen, he stopped and stared.

I’d admit, this was even weird for me.

But again, it was cheesecake!

“I guess I don’t really ever have any idea what to expect from you,” Griffin said, walking up to me.

He dropped down onto his haunches next to me, gave me a quick peck on the lips, then walked to the counter where he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

Neat as always.

He was so predictable.

“One day you’re going to have to drink something other than whiskey neat. Maybe you should branch out. Have a beer first,” I teased, licking the fork I was using, then pointing it at him.

He grinned unrepentantly.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” he said by way of answer.

The front door to our place opened, and I looked up just as I’d scooped up another bite to see Mig enter with a thunderous scowl on his face.

It disappeared the moment he laid eyes on me, though.

His eyes went from my fork filled with a scoop of cheesecake, to the floor where the cheesecake splattered, to me, and then he smiled.

“I can always count on your weird wife getting me out of my funk,” Mig said, walking around me to Griffin.


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