Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
He almost looked…hopeful.
“Remy’s going back to Oklahoma tomorrow,” I said sadly.
He grimaced. “Then you’ll let one of the prospects watch your store,” he said, not taking no for an answer.
“We’ll see. But tell me, what’s a prospect?” I asked.
He grinned. “You don’t know what a prospect is?”
I shook my head. “No, should I?”
“You’ve never watched Sons of Anarchy or anything?”
I shook my head.
I’d heard there was cheating in the show, and I wasn’t a big fan of that.
I read and watched TV for pleasure. So knowing that the main male lead character cheats on his wife just didn’t do it for me.
Which was why there was never any cheating and always a happily ever after in the books that I read.
“A prospect is someone who’s trying to get into the club. Usually, they serve about a year as our bitches before they’re taken into the fold. Sometimes, if they prove their worth earlier, like I had, then you’re in much faster than that,” he explained.
I tilted my head in curiosity. “Why did you get in so fast?”
He grinned. “You really want to know?”
I nodded, unsure if I really wanted to know or not.
At least if I didn’t know, I could claim deniability.
“I was beating the shit out of a man for information on a case I was investigating. They were after the same man. Liked the way I handled the situation, and offered me a position as a member of the club. We were still pretty new then, though. They didn’t start with prospects until a few months after I came on,” he answered.
My eyes widened. “Is that the way you solve things? With your fists?”
That didn’t sound like a good person to me, but who was I to judge?
I’d gotten in a fight with Jenna and Diane when I was in high school because Jenna and Diane had pantsed me in gym class.
I’d gotten two good hits in, all the while my pants were around my ankles, before the fight was broken up by the coaches.
So I couldn’t say I didn’t understand his motivation. I just thought that it might get him into trouble one day.
“Yeah, if that’s what needs to happen,” he answered.
I pursed my lips. “You need to be careful.”
He knew what I meant.
He was a cop.
He shouldn’t be doing stuff like fighting with people.
He was supposed to uphold the law, not break it.
“I know. And I don’t do it unless it needs to be done.”
He offered no apology. Not that I expected it.
Griffin wasn’t the type of man to apologize for anything. Everything he did had a purpose, and it didn’t matter if it hurt or pissed someone off in the process. It needed to be done, or he wouldn’t have done it.
And I needed to decide if I could be with a man that might one day have everything backfire on him.
Could I stand by his side?
Surprisingly, I found that I could.
I may not think that the way he was going about it was the right course of action, but I wasn’t the type of person to stop anyone from doing what they thought needed to be done.
“So, do you need to do it often?” I asked, my eyes scanning over his right pectoral.
The vest declared him as ‘Griff,’ on a red patch with white lettering. The patch directly underneath that declared him as the ‘enforcer.’
I wasn’t stupid.
I knew what enforcers did.
I read!
“Griffin,” I hesitated. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to know that I don’t like you running away every time something personal is asked about your life that you don’t want to answer. If you don’t want to answer, just say so. Don’t leave on me.” I continued, “And if you’re going to do this,” I indicated his shirt, specifically the enforcer patch. “You need to know that I don’t like visiting people in jail. The place is gross. And I hear that police officers aren’t treated well in there.”
He laughed. “I’ll take that into consideration.” His eyes shone. “As for the leaving bit…I’ll try. I’m not used to having to explain myself, and sometimes it’s easier to leave than to blow up at innocent people who were only enjoying their cobbler.”
I smiled sadly at him. “Noted.”
“You want me to go check that bathroom?” He asked, eyes moving to where I’d said the man had disappeared to earlier.
I shook my head. “No. I’m used to it. I have gloves that I use, and a bottle of bleach I spray generously. I’m not sure my smalls will fit onto your hands, and I’d hate for you to stain your clothes.” I said, picking up his hand.
It was big. Way bigger than mine.
Scarred, too.
And strong.
“You look like you got into another fight tonight,” I said, my fingers brushing lightly over the scraped knuckles.
He grunted in reply.
Well, that wasn’t a denial, at least.
“You wanna…come home with me?” I asked, looking up at him.
He grinned. “Actually, I was hoping you’d come home with me.”
I smiled. “You think I’m gonna say no to you?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t think you’d say no.”
“So you think I’m easy?” I shot back.
He shook his head. “Not easy, no. Just unable to resist me.”
I laughed. “You think I can’t resist you?”
He nodded.
“Prove it. I’ve got a will of iron.”
He snorted. “Iron isn’t as solid as say, steel. But it doesn’t matter. If I wanted to take you right here, you’d do it. I have no doubt in my mind, and I don’t need your challenge. You stand no chance.”
“Talk’s cheap, big boy. Time to put your money where your mouth is,” I said, wadding up a piece of paper from an order I’d filled online earlier, and tossed it at him.
It bounced off his chest, and his eyes followed it as it fell to the ground.
“So you want to play, do you?” He asked. “You want to get fucked in your store, where anyone can see you?”
I blinked.
I hadn’t really thought out the logistics of it all, but I could tell that he’d done so.