Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Yeah. But that was before my future held me being some biker’s old lady.”
Jagger chuckled.
Archie smiled through her sip of coffee.
Jagger quit chuckling.
“They got the only pass they’re gonna get, Archie,” he warned. “You need to call the cops on them if they show and start trouble like they did yesterday.”
She looked massively unhappy when she said, “I know.”
“Or, you call me, and either I’ll come, or if one of my brothers is closer, they can come and share with those boys that they had their time and now’s the time to get their heads out of their asses because that time is up. They fuck with you or Mal again, there’ll be consequences.”
“How about I share that info with them, and only if things get out of hand or I get the vibe they’re not receiving the message, I call badass biker backup?”
He would prefer to be on the way to her the second shit kicked up.
But he said, “That works.”
“How hard was that?” she asked.
“Sorry?” he asked in return.
“To let the old lady claim her own shit.”
He studied her through swallowing some coffee, wondering if he was that easily readable or if she was just that tuned to him.
Then he answered, “Hard.”
She pushed up to a hand, leaned in and touched her mouth to his.
She didn’t pull back very far when she asked, “What’s for dinner, boyfriend?”
“Smashburgers.”
Her brows went up.
It was then he realized Dutch and Georgie’s baked ravioli that night was veggie. Inadvertently veggie, they were both meat eaters, but it was veggie.
“You eat meat?” he asked.
“Yep,” she answered.
“So, smashburgers. And don’t get excited. I cook, but I cook simple. My mom’s a biker babe, but she’s a mom. A mom with three sons. She took and continues to take care of her boys. We did not have at-home home economics time at Casa de Keely.”
“Keely is your mom’s name?”
“Yup.”
“Pretty,” she murmured.
“Hound cooks too, mostly breakfast.”
“Hound?”
“My dad.”
Something moved over her face.
She didn’t comment on it.
Jag didn’t push it.
He didn’t want to ask his next, but he had to ask his next.
“What time is it?”
“It was closing in on seven-thirty when I brought you your coffee.”
“Shit, I gotta get going, sweetheart.”
She didn’t look like she liked that, but she nodded.
He didn’t like it either.
What he did do was take their coffee mugs and set them aside, then pull her in his arms, roll over her and make out with her hot and heavy.
Because they had to get on with their days.
But there was always time to make out.
Chapter Eight
Original Gangster
Jagger
Early that afternoon, Jagger was on his ass on the floor of bay two at the garage at Ride, his wrists to his cocked knees, and Joker was sitting beside him in the same position.
Both of them were staring at the vehicle that was right then currently kicking their ass.
It wasn’t a build.
It was a restoration.
An old Ford Bronco that was totally worth the effort, seeing as it was a Bronco, and Joker’s vision for it was epic.
But everywhere they turned, they found rust.
Which was a pain in the ass and it was making the budget skyrocket.
“Remind me not to do this again,” Joker said.
“Dude,” Jagger replied, because Joker said that a lot, but when he got something in his head, he didn’t listen to anyone. So a long time ago, Jag had quit trying.
“Every time we take on a restoration, we get kicked in the ass,” Joker told him something he knew.
“But, brother, it’s a Bronco.”
Joker sighed, knowing like Jagger did, at least this time, that made it worth it, just as a child called out, “Daddy!”
Both Joke and Jag looked to the mouth of the bay where they saw a little girl with black hair racing their way.
Joker and his wife Carissa’s first.
Though, if you counted Carissa’s boy from her previous marriage, which Joker did, their girl was their second.
She was called Clementine.
Coming up behind Clementine was Wyatt, Joker’s first blooded boy, and trailing was Carissa, with their last, a baby girl, Raven, on her hip.
Since he wasn’t there, Travis (their first) was probably with his father.
But even with this parade, Clementine was determined to take all her dad’s attention, considering she little-girl tackled him.
Joker pretended it was a major hit, groaning and rocking deeper with the blow than was necessary.
Wyatt ignored both men, seeing as he was his father’s son, and way more interested in the Bronco, so he went right to that.
Raven was all about her dad too, reaching out to him, and Carissa was all about her husband, heading straight to him.
But the shout that Jag would put money on all of them hearing even before they heard it came from the door to the office.
“Get that baby up here!” Tyra yelled.
Tyra, their former president Tack’s wife, also the garage’s office manager, was a baby monster. It was hilarious. And luckily, with all the brothers busy procreating, she got her fix regularly.