Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Top or bottom?” she asked.
“Top.”
My phone vibrated as Faith and Harper ordered their drinks, and the bartender got to work.
Steve: He declined entry. Wouldn’t allow me to retrieve the cat. Threatened legal action for trespassing.
“Fucking. Asshat,” I snapped, resisting the urge to slam my cell on the bar.
The bartender smirked as she set a tumbler of golden liquid before me. “Fuck him,” she said and poured another finger of whiskey in the glass.
I liked her immediately.
I nodded, raising the glass to clink it against Faith and Harper’s. “Fuck him,” we all said in unison.
The bartender laughed before busying herself behind the bar.
“What now?” Faith asked after we’d drank to our toast.
“He denied the messenger I sent to retrieve Hufflepuff.” I typed a quick thank you text, sent the payment to the messenger, and then told him I’d be in touch.
“Douche,” Harper said, sipping from her green concoction.
“I just want my cat,” I said, and kind of hated how broken those words sounded.
The bartender stopped her wipe down of the other end of the bar and locked eyes with me. “Some guy is holding your cat hostage?”
I nodded.
She smacked the damp towel on the bar, kicked a small step ladder toward the middle of the shelves, and hopped on it. Her black moto-boots thumped against the metal as she reached the top step, her long, lean arms reaching toward the scythe she had hanging above the liquor bottles. She took it off its hooks, turning to face us while still on the ladder.
“Let’s go,” she said, motioning toward the door. “The owner can be a real bitch, but I know she’d support me helping you get back your cat.”
She looked equally endearing and terrifying in that moment, but I managed a soft laugh as I waved her off.
“As much as I would love to see my ex shit his pants upon seeing you wielding that thing like a boss, he’s in Seattle.”
Her shoulders deflated a bit, and she stomped a booted foot before returning the weapon. She hopped off the stool in one motion. “Damn.”
Faith raised her brows. “What’s your name?”
“Echo Hayes,” she said, extending a hand toward Faith. “You three?”
“I’m Faith,” she said, shaking her hand before pointing to us in turn. “This is Harper and Langley.”
“Nice to meet you three,” she said, tilting her head slightly as she surveyed us. “You Reapers’ wives?”
I snorted. “Is it that easy to tell?”
Echo shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in here before. So you either wandered in here on pure luck or you sought this place out because you’re connected to the team or a die-hard fan. Since the team is so new, I bet on the connection.”
“Nice deduction,” Harper said. “Though, technically, I’m not a wife. I’m engaged.”
“Congrats.” Echo resumed her cleaning but asked, “is that what you’re celebrating?” She eyed the drinks.
“No,” I answered. “Girls’ day,” I said, and something like longing flashed in her blue eyes. “I also needed the liquid courage.”
“To face down that asshole who has your cat?”
“No,” I said, though I wished he was in town just so I could take this gang of girl-bosses over to his house and get Hufflepuff back, and maybe break a few vases on our way out. “Trying to seduce my husband.”
Echo’s lips parted, confusion coloring her features.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“But a super intriguing one,” Faith said, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Oh?” Echo smirked, refilling my now empty glass. “Do tell.” When she saw my hesitation, she raised an eyebrow. “You know that being a bartender pretty much means I’m a living NDA, right? Can’t lose my best customers before the bar’s patron namesakes even take the ice.”
Fair point.
“Why not?” I let it fly.
Three hours and way too many shots later, Lukas dropped me off at my front door. Faith had had to call him to pick us up due to said shots, and since we all lived on the same damn block—Faith’s house directly next to mine—it was a win-win. Now if I could just get the damned key in the lock...
The door swung open, Axel filling out every inch of the entryway. He stepped onto the porch, carefully placing a hand on the small of my back to steady me as he peered around the corner.
He growled some words in Swedish, aimed at Lukas’ back.
Lukas waved him off, clapping back in rapid Swedish as he opened his own front door and ushered in a giggling Faith.
“Good luck!” Faith called, and a laugh ripped from my chest.
I swayed on the porch, trying desperately to lock eyes with my giant of a husband.
He smirked down at me. “Have fun, did you?”
I grinned up at him, the motion genuine, and it crackled in every hollow inch of me. “Not yet,” I said before throwing my shopping bag into the house, then jumping up, my arms locking around his neck and my ankles securing around his waist. My abs were awesome. Yay for core strength!