Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
“You new to town?” I asked her, my voice gruff.
She nodded as I eyed the application in her hand. “I heard they need help here.”
I hummed, letting my eyes meet hers. They were a startling shade of blue—somewhere between the blue of the ocean and the blue of the sky. A color all of its own. Probably wasn’t even a name for the shade.
“How good are you at cooking?” I found myself asking. I wanted her close. Wanted her somewhere I could see her every day. Something about this woman called to me.
“I’m pretty good at it,” she said, frowning at me now but answering my question despite her confusion. “I’m no chef, but no one’s ever complained.”
I nodded, drumming my fingers on the bar top. “You know how to make a drink?”
She nodded. “I was a bartender for my last two jobs. I can make most drinks in my sleep.”
I grabbed a napkin and a pen from the other side of the bar and quickly scrawled my club name, address, and phone number on the napkin. When I held it out to her, she slowly took it, eyeing me suspiciously.
“What’s this?”
“My brothers and I are looking to hire someone to cook, make drinks, and keep the clubhouse clean. Room and board are provided at no charge to you. And I’ll pay you exceptionally well. You’re free to quit whenever you want or never show up, but if you want the job, be at the clubhouse at eight in the morning.”
She eyed my cut. “So, you’re a biker?”
“Mhm,” I hummed, nodding once at the bartender who set my food and beer in front of me. I grabbed them. “What’s your name, darlin’?”
A pretty pink blush stole over her cheeks at the pet name. “Lindsey,” she told me, her voice a little quieter.
I smiled at her, and she blinked, looking just a little bit dazed. “I hope to see you at eight in the morning, Lindsey.”
With that, I walked toward the booth the guys were sitting at, my dick stiff in my jeans.
She was going to be trouble, but fuck, I couldn’t damn help myself.
2
Lindsey
Blowing out a soft breath, I stared at the fenced-in property in front of me. The chain link fence was high—about six feet—with barbed wire wrapped around the top of it. A black privacy screen was wrapped around the fence, making it a little harder to see through.
I’d heard things about motorcycle clubs and bikers. I knew enough to know that there were some good clubs out there—ones that supported their community, did charity fundraisers, and other things like that. And then there were the one-percenters who lived on the wrong side of the law.
Staring at this fence through the windshield of my car, I had a feeling Blink and his club were one-percenters. And I wasn’t all that sure how I felt about it.
With a sigh, I stepped out of my car and walked up to the gate. It was unlocked, so I lifted the latch and pushed it open enough for me to drive through. After driving through, I closed the gate back and then found a place to park that seemed out of the way.
“You drive that?” Blink asked as I slid out of the car.
I squeaked and jumped in surprise before spinning around to face the man that had crept up on me so easily. He still looked as good as he did yesterday. His medium-length, almost-black hair was pushed back off his face by a pair of shades, so his dark eyes were even clearer to me than they’d been last night. One of his long-fingered, scarred hands that I’d subtly admired the night before in the bar was wrapped around a coffee mug, and the other was shoved into the pocket of his jeans.
Blink was tall and lean, but power emanated from his pores. There was a hint of confidence in every single move he made that I deeply admired.
“What’s wrong with my car?” I demanded, a tad defensive. It’d been what I could afford. I wasn’t exactly rolling in money, and my parents were so strung out on drugs that when I’d left at eighteen, they hadn’t even seemed to notice I was leaving.
Blink grunted, running his eyes over the vehicle before looking back at me. “It doesn’t even look safe to drive, darlin’.”
I tilted my chin up the slightest bit and crossed my arms over my chest. “It may look like nothing, but I’ll have you know this car has been good to me. It’s reliable. That’s all I need it to be.”
His lips quirked at the corners in amusement. “You got your things?” he asked instead of continuing to argue with me.
I opened my back door and grabbed my two mere bags of belongings, which were just one suitcase for clothes and the other for my toiletries. He frowned down at my bags. “That’s it?”