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)
It was a good lesson on not making judgments based on outward appearances. The more she thought about it, everyone she’d met affiliated with the club fell into that don’t-judge-a-book-by-its-cover category.
“Thanks,” Brenna said, accepting a tight hug from Liv. “I’m honored to be given this opportunity.”
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with. Did Brooke give you the tour?” Liv asked.
“We were just getting to that,” Brooke said. “But now we can do it together, and then we can head over for a drink at the clubhouse while we chat. Sound good?” She focused on Brenna, whose stomach flipped at the thought of entering the MC’s lair.
As uncomfortable as the idea made her, she wasn’t about to piss off her new clients on the first day. “Sure. That sounds perfect.” Hopefully, she did an adequate job swallowing her nerves, and her voice didn’t sound as uncertain as her head felt.
Liv chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s not nearly as scary as your face thinks it is.” She winked.
So much for my acting skills.
Brooke looped her arm through Brenna’s and began to lead her down the hallway. “Promise you don’t have anything to worry about. You’re one of us now.”
One of them.
The statement had her mind drifting to the previous night, where she’d embarrassed herself beyond reason in front of Lock. What the hell was she thinking talking about her unfulfilled desires and pitiful sex life? Then, to go and choose the sexiest movie on earth?
Humiliation to the max. Maybe she could have withstood her own stupidity if Lock didn’t tempt her on every level, but every time the man came near, her stomach fluttered, her heart tap-danced, and other parts of her body went haywire—parts she tried not to think about too hard due to that pitiful sex life.
The biggest problem resulting from last night was the realization that she liked Lock. Really liked the man. The physical attraction was one thing, and something she could handle since there was no way he’d feel the same about her, but to like him? Enjoy spending time with him, listening to him talk, sharing laughs and stories? That had disaster written all over it.
For God’s sake, she’d had so much fun with the man she’d been reluctant for the night to end.
Disaster.
Fun led to wanting to be around him more, which led to connecting with him, which led to vulnerability, emotions, and eventual pain.
“Okay, here’s the kitchen…” Brooke interrupted her downward spiral of severe negative thinking.
“Oh, wow, it’s huge.” The cabinets were in, but not the countertops, and the kitchen space was more than large enough to hold a dozen women without feeling overcrowded.
“Yeah.” Liv chuckled and gave a sheepish grin. “We may have gone a bit overboard on a few things.”
“No. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.” Brenna swiveled her head to take it all in. “It’s a fantastic room for a bunch of people. You could hold cooking or baking classes for your clients. I imagine that would be valuable for some of the women transitioning to living independently, maybe for the first time.”
“Dayum,” Liv said, laughing. “Look at you with the incredible ideas. We should mention that to Harp,” she added, speaking to Brooke.
Brooke nodded. “Harper is our social worker. I bet she’d loved the idea of incorporating that into her educational plans.”
Brenna beamed. How good did it feel to have her input appreciated?
“I bet a lot of the women you’ll serve would benefit from… oh, excuse me,” Brenna said as her text notifications chimed three times in a row. “Let me just check that real fast.”
“Please, take your time,” Brooke said, releasing Brenna’s arm to take a step back. “I’m actually going to text Harper your idea right now.” She pulled her phone from the pocket of her denim shorts.
“Thanks.” Brenna walked three steps away as she dug her phone out of her bag. A barrage of texts always made her nervous. Her parents weren’t living, but she had a few cousins around her age. They stayed in relatively close touch despite living in different states. One of her cousins had serious health issues and occasionally needed assistance. Brenna always tried to be available in case of a medical emergency. With quick fingers, she swiped the screen and read the awaiting texts.
Her blood ran cold. She’d been right to be nervous, but not for the reasons she’d assumed.
Oliver: I’m sorry.
Oliver: I had no choice.
Oliver: I can pay the rest now.
Oliver had the money. What the hell did that mean? Was he going to try to trade for her or some shit? Like she was a piece of property to be partnered over. Did he expect the club would let him repurchase her like she was a returnable product?
“What the fuck?” she whispered. Her brain stalled, unable to process the insanity that had become her life.