Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Lack of sleep plus constant obsessing over the bizarre situation she found herself in had her hands fumbling and her mind a chaotic mess of runaway thoughts.
“Dammit,” she muttered as she pulled her car too far forward in the parking spot, scraping the curb. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed a smirk on the face of the biker who had the unlucky job of babysitting her all day.
A prospect, they’d called him—some barely-old-enough-to-drink kid on a mission to join the MC. He was nice enough and had stayed out of her hair throughout the day but never far from sight, watching her like a hawk.
Had he been reporting back to Lock or Spec all morning? Maybe he skipped them and went straight to the top of the food chain, giving Curly a rundown on her clumsy morning. With a sigh, Brenna backed her car up a few inches and then killed the engine. In about thirty minutes, she had a meeting scheduled with a new client at her favorite coffee shop. She’d arrived early, planning to spend her time wisely and get her head in the game.
Maybe if she gave herself a dedicated chunk of time to think about her problems, she could shove them aside when it came time to perform her job like the professional she claimed to be.
As she exited the car, her gaze went to her warden. Should she offer to buy the guy a drink? A snack? How did this work? She’d never had an MC prospect tailing her all day.
The thought had her snorting out a laugh, which earned her a head tilt and a curious eyebrow raise from her babysitter. “You should wear a helmet,” she called out on impulse. Seriously, why wouldn’t he wear a helmet? The kid was way too young to splatter his brains across the highway.
He laughed. “I’m good, darlin’,” he said as though they were flirty friends instead of people who’d met that morning. And what was he, nine years younger than her?
She rolled her eyes. “It’s your funeral. Maybe literally,” she muttered the last part.
This time, her comment earned her a wink and a smirk.
Brenna huffed and turned her back on him as she walked toward the entrance. He could get his own damn coffee.
“Sit by the front window,” he called out. “So I can keep an eye on you.”
“Whatever,” she mumbled but lifted a hand to acknowledge his command.
One extra-large iced brown sugar oat milk latte later, Brenna sat at a café table adjacent to the front window as instructed. As she sipped her beverage, her mind wandered to the same place it’d been stuck since last night.
She cringed, recalling how she’d practically sprinted to the guest room after Curly, Spec, and Liv left. She’d pled exhaustion but hadn’t fallen asleep until long past midnight. In the span of a few hours, her life had gone from dull and slightly sad to wholly fucked.
How could she have spent the past two years with a man without knowing who he really was? They went to sleep together, woke up together, and ate together. They shared a home, friends, and a life. She hadn’t broken up with Oliver because he had a gambling addiction and owed an MC a shocking sum of money. She hadn’t ended their relationship because he was a monster who’d hurt her to save his ass. No, she’d cut things off because their connection had gone stale. They lacked passion. There wasn’t any rip-your-clothes-off desire or intense need to have each other no matter where they were. They’d drifted to a place where they acted like roommates or buddies. After she’d ended it, a mutual friend confessed to sleeping with him while he and Brenna had been engaged. She’d also found out about a few others, and by that point, she felt relief at being out of the broken relationship.
Staid, predictable, boring. Those were the words that came to mind when she thought of their sex life toward the end. Hell, they’d never had the kind of hot-as-Hades connection she yearned for, but it’d at least been on the hotter side of warm.
She couldn’t take it anymore after months of lukewarm, bordering on chilly nights. Maybe consuming hunger for another person only happened in books and movies, but she was still too young to throw in the towel and commit to a passionless relationship.
Right?
What the hell did she know about anything? It turned out she was too dumb to realize she’d agreed to marry a man who’d rather she get assaulted by bikers than pay his debts.
Crap.
And now she was living with one of those bikers as they enacted a revenge plot on Oliver. And said biker happened to be one of the sexiest men she’d ever laid eyes on. Plus, he had a cute baby.