Callow (Henchmen MC Next Generation #12) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
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This time of night in the off-season, there were no cars on the road save for the cop parked a ways down. Either doing a speed trap or maybe just keeping an eye out so no one hassled us now that Callow paid him off.

After crossing the street, we made our way down the wooden path onto the bay.

During the summers, my friends and I used to hang out on the bay more than the main beach because it was so much less crowded. Sure, the sand wasn’t as nice and the horseflies were a bitch, but when you are young and being dumb, what you cared about most was privacy.

“I’ve never been in a kayak,” I admitted as Callow removed the paddles from the side of the kayak before setting it at the edge of the water. Reaching out, he grabbed the picnic basket, storing it toward the front of the vessel in the footwell where I imagined my feet would be going.

“I’ll get in first,” he offered, putting the paddles inside, then carefully climbing in. The kayak wobbled ominously, but didn’t capsize. “Come on. I got you,” he said, holding a hand out toward me, then helping me slowly get into my seat with no small amount of rocking of the kayak.

“Do we have to do this in unison?” I asked as I took my paddle.

“Yes,” Callow said. “You set a comfortable pace and I will follow,” he told me. Then, placing an arm over my shoulder, he pointed out to a dark patch in the water. “That’s where we’re headed. Just go in that direction.”

I struggled at first, but Callow seemed suitably skilled and managed to keep us on track until it started to go more smoothly.

It was a gorgeous night. The sky was clear and dotted with a blanket of stars. And it felt like we were all alone in the world.

“Do you want to do a little lap before we eat?” he asked, breathing even as I started to feel like I was getting a decent workout. My arms were going to be jelly the next day. But I did want to do lap before we got ourselves up onto the little island.

“Wow,” I said after Callow pulled the blanket off of the top of the picnic basket, spread it out across the sand, and we both moved to sit on top of it.

“Yeah,” Callow agreed. “Knew this would be a good idea, but had no idea how nice this would be.”

“It’s like we’re all alone in the world,” I agreed as Callow started to pull items out of the picnic basket, starting with a small pop-up camping lantern that allowed us to be able to see the food, if not much else.

“Alright. What do we have?” I asked as Callow removed two foil-wrapped sandwiches from insulated bags.

“Meatball parm,” he said. “And eggplant parm. Didn’t know if you eat meat.”

“I eat just about everything. So I’m cool with half of each,” I said as he produced bottles of iced tea.

With that, we ate and watched the lights of the surrounding towns flicker and listened to a playlist Callow said he’d put together.

It wasn’t until the food was wrapped up and put away that I exhaled hard and lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky.

After moving the picnic basket to the side, Callow joined me.

“This is perfect,” I said as a little shiver moved through me.

“Would be slightly more perfect if it wasn’t so cold,” he said, having felt the shiver. Reaching to slide an arm under me, he pulled me up and onto his chest, sharing his warmth with me.

“I disagree,” I decided as a different sort of tremble coursed through me as Callow’s arms wrapped me up.

God, it felt so good to be held, to be so close to a man. No, not just any man. This particular man.

Callow was everything I didn’t know I wanted. Steady, secure, experienced, laid-back. A man with years and depth and, because of those things, a lack of judgment.

That wasn’t even mentioning his protective instincts, his willingness to hold a strange woman when she cried, and his ridiculous good looks.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “The cold is definitely better.”

I shifted closer, my knee whacking accidentally into his prosthetic. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” I asked.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, reaching down to grab my leg and pulling it over both of his legs.

“Does it ever hurt?” I asked, not knowing if this was a topic I was supposed to bring up or not. But it was a part of him, so it felt relevant to be curious about.

“Not usually just sitting around, no. If I go too hard for too long, I can get blood blisters and shit like that. Makes it impossible to wear the prosthetic for a while.”



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