Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Who wears leather?
Nobody, that’s who.
“Are you going to a fancy dress party?” I ask, still lying on the ground, still throwing sass around like I’m actually in the position to.
The sidewalk is starting to burn my back.
You won’t see me complaining, though.
No, sir, not today.
He tilts his head again, to the other side this time. As if he’s studying some sort of wild animal he’s never seen before. “I’m thinkin’ you need to get up because the fall has clearly given you some sort of brain injury.”
He extends a hand.
I huff.
“No, thank you,” I say, rolling with zero grace to my side. I grunt and squirm but, finally, I get to my feet.
Not without looking like a complete fool.
Now that I’m standing, I can see him better. His jacket has some sort of patches on it, but one that stands out to me is ‘PRESIDENT’ in big, bold letters.
President of what?
A BDSM club?
They’re the only people I know who wear leather in this heat.
“You never seen a biker before, lady?” he asks, and my head snaps up.
“You’re a biker?”
He doesn’t look impressed.
“I mean, my mind was going somewhere completely different, but okay. I’ll take it.”
“You always this smart-mouthed or is it just my lucky day?”
I cross my arms. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“If I like you or not. So far, I don’t. I mean, who wears leather in the blistering sun?”
“I do.”
“Have you got some sort of skin condition?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Fuck. No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I’m a fuckin’ biker.”
I give him a sarcastic eye roll and mock him, repeating the same sentence. “Because I’m a fuckin’ biker.”
He growls. “You’re somethin’ else. What’s your name?”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Fuck me. You’re insane.”
I grin. “Says the man wearing leather in the middle of summer.”
He leans in closer, so close I can see the speckles of green in his blue eyes. “You’ll get yourself into trouble with that mouth one day.”
God.
He smells incredible.
Yum.
“Can you move back a little?” I ask. “Your breath is quite offensive.”
His eyes harden.
He doesn’t move.
I go on. “Can I get you something for it? Mouthwash? A mint? Dental floss? A better personality?”
He steps back with a scowl that makes him look even more handsome. God, he’s good looking. Ridiculously so. Are all bikers this attractive? I might need to get on that scene.
“This your place?”
He nods to my café, the one I just fell over in front of, the one where none of my staff bothered to come out and help me. They know I can’t run, what sort of friends are they?
“Yes, actually, it is my place.”
He grins.
“Well then, it’s your lucky day.”
“I fail to see how ...”
“We’ll be runnin’ into each other a lot more.”
I shake my head, confused.
He turns and points to the large, empty, garage-style space beside mine. We share the same parking lot, but it has been empty for as long as I’ve owned my place. I’m happy to have it that way—I don’t want anything getting in the way of my business, and someone owning that place would certainly disrupt what I’ve got going on.
I mean, it would have to be some sort of garage and that means noise, and people I don’t want around.
Still grinning, he gives me a look that makes me a little nervous. “You better get used to me and my breath, lady, because I’m your new neighbor.”
Wait.
What?
Oh, god.
No.
He’s my neighbor? A biker? What in the ever-loving hell would he want with a garage? Don’t they ride bikes? This has to be some sort of accident.
“Is this a joke? Am I being pranked?”
I glance around.
“No joke. I bought the place last week, opening a custom motorbike shop with my clubhouse out the back.”
Clubhouse.
What does he mean ... clubhouse.
Isn’t that illegal?
“There is no house there,” I squeak, though I’m sure behind the garage, there is, indeed, a house. I haven’t really paid a great deal of attention.
“There is a house, a rather large house, one that I’ll be running my business out of.”
“Illegal business. I’ll call the cops and have that shut down right away,” I throw back, crossing my arms.
“I don’t do anythin’ illegal, lady. Not sure what you’re talkin’ about. I’m just bringin’ my guys in to run my club and business, just like anyone else.”
I throw my hands up. “You can’t do that.”
He grins and, when he does, he looks like the devil himself. “I can, and I will.”
“I’ll not stand for this,” I threaten. “I’ll make some calls and ...”
“And what?”
“Argh!” I shake my head and turn, storming toward my café. “This isn’t over!”
“I’ll be seein’ you, sweet cheeks.”
I swear to god, I’m going to punch him in the mouth.
In his perfectly attractive, masculine mouth.
It’s on.
2
“MOVE, RAMONA,” I HISS, shoving her to the side so I can peer out the window.
“Let me see, woman,” she shoves me back, taking her spot once more.