Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
With the way Trip was, Stella was sure he’d be giving his brothers a constant reminder of that. Especially if they were being stupid. That man was working too hard to have everything come crashing down around him.
But the club wasn’t the only thing he was working hard on, he was working hard on her.
And he was winning.
They just needed to get some things settled between them. If they did, they’d be good.
After the last month or so, she was reminded time and time again of why she had been drawn to him in the first place when they were younger. It had been not only his confidence but the way he carried himself.
And it didn’t hurt he had always been hot as fuck. Even a young Stella had recognized it and had become totally enamored with Trip as a boy.
He was no longer a boy, though. He was definitely all man. And that confidence had only grown and matured.
Though, he fought to keep his temper under control.
It didn’t worry her as much as maybe it should. He’d promised not to hurt her, and his promise was sincere. Even when he was rough with her in bed, he still constantly checked to make sure she was okay.
She always would be and encouraged him to continue because she never felt more alive than when they connected during sex.
Except for today. On the back of his bike. On this ride.
That deep, dark hole inside her was filling quickly.
And all it took was one man walking into her bar one night.
The boy who never wanted her turned into a man who did.
The formation of sleds pulled off the road into a lot in town designated for public parking. One by one, the bikes were crab-walked back into a long line, filling up multiple spots, and their rumbling engines silenced.
Trip did the same with his, backing in next to Dutch. Then Cage, as Road Captain, was the last, so he parked on the end, first in the long line.
It was a beautiful sight to see in the early evening sun. The sleds, the men, and the colors they all wore proudly.
Suddenly, Stella was overwhelmed with a sense of home. She had forgotten what this felt like. And it wasn’t because the MC was back up and running, it was because of who was in that MC. The only one she didn’t know was Dodge. The rest? She knew them growing up or, more recently, from around town.
Trip was relaxed and loose as he surveyed the lineup and was turning his head to say something to her or Dutch when he went tight.
He wasn’t the only one when a Ford Explorer pulled up to the end of the line where Dutch, Cage and Trip were parked, blocking them. Even though it wasn’t marked like a typical police vehicle, it was easy to recognize what it was. Especially when the tinted window powered down and Chief Max Bryson’s head became visible, as well as his elbow as he propped his arm on the bottom edge of the opening.
The man wasn’t in uniform but his demeanor and his dark sunglasses, which hid his beautiful crystal blue eyes, had cop written all over both.
This did not make any of the guys smile.
“Max,” Dutch greeted gruffly with a chin lift.
“Dutch.” Max gave him an answering nod. “What’s going on?”
“Just out for a ride to enjoy the beautiful spring weather.”
Max’s head turned, taking in the line of bikes, which Stella noted would only get longer in the future as the club grew. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dutch answered, still sitting on his fully-dressed Road King. “Ain’t doin’ nothin’ that needs your attention.”
“Hope not.” Max aimed his sunglasses at Trip. “You’re the one who decided to start all this shit up again?”
Stella was pretty sure the Chief knew that info already. She didn’t know Max to be a dick, even though he policed Manning Grove with a pretty tight fist.
Since she was still plastered to Trip’s back—now on purpose to help keep his temper in check—she knew the second he went from tense to wired. “Not illegal.”
“Didn’t say it was. Knew your granddaddy well. Good man. But my grandfather and my pop both had to deal with your father and his kind. They passed down some stories—”
Dutch cut him off. “We’ve shared some of those stories, Max. I’ve also made peace with Ron.”
Max turned his sights on Dutch. “You think my pop won’t have a problem with the Fury being resurrected?”
“Ron’s retired. He should just be enjoyin’ his grandbabies.”
“Ever think having the Fury active again might worry him because of those very grandbabies?”
When Trip said, “Tell ‘im he’s got nothin’ to worry about,” it pulled Max’s attention back to him.
And her, apparently. The deep frown Max was wearing loosened. “Hey, Stella.”
“Chief.”
Max’s lip twitched but not enough for a smile. “You know you don’t have to call me that.”