Detroit (Shady Valley Henchmen #5) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Shady Valley Henchmen Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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Sure, we all just… turned up our TVs and were adults about it.

But I couldn’t shake the insecurity about that sometimes. So I really liked the party nights because I could be as loud as I wanted.

“You know what I think?” Detroit asked, taking both laptops away, and placing them on the floor. Then putting both of our coffee cups on the nightstand.

“What?”

“That we should celebrate your new career path. And our new house plans,” he said, his body coming over mine.

So, then, yeah, we celebrated.

I, in fact, celebrated four times.

Detroit - 6 months

Everleigh looked exhausted, but bone-deep happy.

See, it came to my attention that she’d spent her last two birthdays alone. Like, fucking alone. No one to give her a gift or sing her ‘Happy Birthday.’

She said she got calls from her mom and sister, but they hadn’t been able to visit because of work.

As you can imagine, that was fucking unacceptable to us.

So, we went big for it.

The girls and the guys alike.

Riff and Raff even insisted on coming back to town earlier than expected when they’d heard about it.

It had been a whole-day-long event.

Multiple meals.

Gifts.

Drinking, partying, birthday cake, making wishes.

The whole thing.

And while her sister couldn’t make it, since she had the baby and both of them had a cold, and her mom was helping take care of the two of them, they’d video-called to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ too.

Della also paid a visit.

As did Gav.

Everyone who was important in her life was there.

But, clearly, she was about full-up on birthday festivities.

“You got enough energy for one more present?” I asked as she leaned into me on the short elevator ride to the second floor. “A two-part one, I guess. But one more,” I clarified.

I’d given her some little stuff that she’d opened in front of everyone else. But I’d been keeping her big gift to myself. For months.

“You didn’t have to get me anything else!” she insisted, but I knew that look in her eye.

“Too bad. I already did. But you can open it in the morning if you’re too tired,” I offered.

But then she was grabbing my hand, and pulling me into the bedroom.

If there was one thing you could count on about Everleigh, it was that she loved surprises.

“Okay. Where do you want me?” she asked, eyes bright.

“Edge of the bed works,” I said, smiling as I went into the closet to grab two things. One envelope and a box.

“A card?” she asked, smiling as she slid her finger under the flap, then pulling out the card.

Blank.

Save for the tickets inside of it.

It was worth the headache and every penny of getting them when I saw her eyes go huge, then her lips part.

“No way,” she said as her shocked gaze slid to me.

“Yes, way.”

“You got Taylor Swift tickets?” she asked, needing confirmation.

“Stage seats,” I confirmed. Some of the best in the entire venue. As they should be, for several grand a piece.

“This… this is too much,” she said, shaking her head.

“Nope. But I did tell Slash that we would stop in to see the Golden Glades crew while we are down there,” I told her.

“I’ve heard so many stories that I feel like I practically know them at this point,” she said. “Detroit,” she went on, shaking her head.

“Wait. There’s a part two,” I said, handing her the box.

“Part one was way more than enough,” she said, but she was already tearing at the paper like a kid on Christmas morning.

Then she pulled out the giant-ass plastic storage box with a ton of compartments full of different colored beads.

“I hear making bracelets is a thing,” I said.

“It really, really is,” she said, practically buzzing with excitement. “I can’t wait to make them,” she added, flipping open the lid to take a look at the contents. “Fair warning, I am going to make you one,” she told me, already picking out the beads, and sticking them in the empty compartment.

“Of course you are,” I said, smiling.

I knew that Everleigh was used to being the one doing the taking care of people, the gift giving, the spoiling.

It was really fucking nice to be able to do that for her.

“I love you so much,” she said, beaming at me. “And I’m not only saying that because you got me Taylor Swift tickets and are going to make friendship bracelets with me.”

I never said I’d make them with her.

I didn’t plan to.

Yet, a few days later, we were sitting on the fucking couch, making bracelets while she sang the songs I was starting to learn all the lyrics to as well.

“I think I’m going to dress up in a Lover era,” she said. And, you know, I fucking knew what she was talking about.

She did end up in her Lover era outfit with a short, bright pink skirt, matching cowboy hat and pink heart-shaped glasses, a shiny, bejeweled white top and matching boots, and a whole arm of friendship bracelets to trade.



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