Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
The Softail was a gleaming mass of black and chrome, but Easy ignored the shiny bits and went right to business. He checked the twin cam engine and the caliper brakes. Satisfied with what he saw, Easy stood up and reached for his wallet. “It’s in good shape,” he confirmed as he handed over a cashier’s check.
The beard grinned. “She’s my baby,” he said. “Take care of her.”
“I will.”
The beard jumped into the truck, one Harley lighter and a few thousand dollars richer. Easy gave him a final wave and turned as everyone came up behind him.
“Nice,” Hawk declared, eyeing the bike appreciatively.
Shooter’s mouth quirked up, and he could barely contain his grin. “So, this is why you needed a ride.”
Easy smirked at him as the door to Slick’s SUV banged shut. The sound caused everyone to look. She’d gone to retrieve two bucket helmets from the cab. Shooter raised an eyebrow at her.
“Actually,” said Easy. “I’m taking your wife for a ride.”
Shooter watched Sarah hand Easy the second helmet then put on her own. “Last time you tried that,” he told Easy, “I kicked your ass.”
“No, I kicked your ass, not that you deserved it. I’m going to drop my pants in front of her, too. You’re going to have to work overtime to win back her love once she sees my package.”
“Jimmy!” Sarah cried and slapped his arm.
Shooter’s jaw twitched. “You can show her anything you want. You touch her, and I’ll rip your leg off and beat you with it.”
Easy grinned at him. “Do it with the cheap one.”
Shooter ignored the cryptic comment and turned to Sarah. “How long have you known about this?”
“Um... since yesterday.”
“And yet you didn’t think to mention it.” Sarah didn’t answer. “Fucking Slick,” Shooter muttered.
Sarah slid on the back of Easy’s new ride and put her arms around him.
Easy grinned at Shooter and patted her hands.
“Higher,” Shooter growled.
“Chris,” Sarah groaned but moved up her hands.
“When are you coming back?”
“Not ‘til after dark. Tildy’s at the house with the baby. Bye!”
Easy rolled out of the lot before Shooter could live up to his nickname. He turned onto the street and settled into the leather seat. The shifting was fluid, and his leg felt okay for now. By the time they hit the highway, he was comfortable. He hit the gas and shifted through the gears seamlessly as he and Sarah headed northwest.
In the sterile room, he felt less comfortable than he had on the bike. The cool breeze of the open road had been replaced by the chill of the air conditioning and his one bare foot on the floor. He took a deep breath and reached for the privacy curtain.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Sarah told him from the other side of the room. “I can wait outside.”
“No,” he said, and pulled the curtain back.
Sarah made a small noise, and Easy’s stomach twisted. “That bad?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head, face flushing. “It’s not... ” She cleared her throat. “You’re in your underwear.”
He glanced down. “Well, yeah. How’s he going to look at it?”
“I don’t know!”
He smirked at her as he slid into the chair next to hers. “You just can’t keep from looking.”
“Oh, I can,” she countered. She reached down to the floor and grabbed a helmet. She plunked it into his lap.
Easy looked down at it and sighed. “Perfect fit. If only they made condoms in my size.”
Sarah slapped his arm. He laughed again. She was quiet for a moment then reached out and tousled his hair. “You look good.”
“If only you weren’t married. And your old man didn’t have a .45,” he teased.
“I mean it, Jimmy. You look good.”
He was the one who cleared his throat this time. “You don’t think I should grow out my hair? Go for a rocker look like Milo?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always known you like this. I don’t think so. You’re perfect.”
She threaded her fingers through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “Remember when you used to do this for me?”
“Get you naked and compliment you? Somehow I would’ve remembered.”
She squeezed his hand. “You used to hold my hand when I was pregnant. When Chris... ”
Easy rested his head against hers. Shooter hadn’t taken Sarah’s pregnancy complications well. He’d whittled himself down to survival mode, like they’d done in the field. It was understandable, after all; he’d had twice as much to lose. Along the way he’d lost sight of the fact that although his wife was one hell of a fighter, she wasn’t a soldier. She’d needed comfort when Shooter had none to give. Instead he’d immersed himself in blood pressure readings and daily medication.
There had been no formal discussion about it, just a tacit understanding that Tex would watch over the lieutenant while Easy cared for Sarah. It had seemed the obvious choice. Easy had been showing her how to protect herself physically. It only made sense that he’d help her emotionally, too.