Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“She’s good company,” Ruger said kindly.
Mom smiled at him and then looked back at me. “Five minutes. No more.”
“Yes, Mama.”
When she disappeared inside, I looked at Ruger. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Are you broken-hearted?”
I watched him sit down on the edge of the porch. “I guess so, kiddo.”
“Do you need some quiet?”
He smiled. “Nah, I like talking to you about your pictures.”
He took another puff of his cigarette but he looked down and I could see he was sad.
“I’m sorry about your sister. Aunt Wendy was real nice.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything, and I noticed how the lump in his throat bobbed up and down as he thought about something. I felt bad for him because he looked so sad. So, I sat down next to him. I looked at the sugar skull ring on my finger. It was my favorite. My mom gave it to me for my birthday and said it came all the way from Florida. It was silver with blue stones in the eyes. My mom said they’re called turquoise and were what you called semi-precious. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded important.
I twisted the ring off my finger and placed it on Ruger’s knee.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a happy ring.”
“A happy ring?
“My mom says you can’t be sad when you wear it. So, if you wear it you won’t be sad no more.”
When Ruger smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth and his teeth were very white.
“You’re giving me your happy ring?”
“Yes. Because I don’t want you to be sad.”
I picked it off his knee and grabbed his hand, sliding the ring onto his pinky finger.
“Is it working?” I asked, looking up at him.
Ruger’s eye widened and he smiled again. “Well, now, how about that. It works!”
“Really? You’re not sad no more?”
He grinned. “Nope. Not one bit.”
I grinned back, feeling really happy.
“But I can’t keep it,” he said.
My face fell. “Yes, you can. You have to because I don’t want you to be sad, Ruger. You’re nice.”
He looked at me. He was thinking. And for a moment, I thought he was going to tell me he couldn’t take the ring. But then he smiled at me and held his hand up to look at it on his finger.
“Well, how can I argue with that?”
I grinned. “You’ll keep it?”
“How can I give it back when it works so well. See…” He pointed toward his smile. “It makes me real happy.”
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Then, jumping off the porch, I picked up my chalk and kneeled against the concrete again. Thunder rumbled in the clouds above us and I wanted to finish my picture before it started to rain.
Ruger stood up and crushed his cigarette beneath his big motorcycle boots.
“See you around, Kitty Kat.”
I looked over at him and squinted. “Why did you call me that?”
He nodded to the chalk picture of Carburetor, then winked at me before he walked away.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe I wasn’t a bad drawer after all.
CHASTITY
Let me get one thing out of the way right now.
I was a virgin.
Yep, you heard me right.
A virgin.
I know, I know. I bet you just asked yourself how the fuck a reasonably good looking twenty-two-year-old with a likable personality and an okay figure could still be a virgin. Believe me, it’s a question I’ve asked myself a hundred times before.
I won’t bore you with a poor-me sob story.
Or some plea about wanting to save myself for the right guy. Believe me, that wasn’t the case.
I’m just going to give you the facts so you know exactly how this story started.
I’m an MC princess.
I was born into club royalty. The club being the biggest motorcycle club in the South, the Kings of Mayhem.
I’m the niece of the club’s president, Bull Western.
Daughter of the infamous Garrett Calley and badass biker queen, Ronnie Calley.
And baby sister to the three Calley brothers: Chance, Cade, and Caleb.
Count that.
Three. Brothers.
Who all happened to be fierce, alpha biker Kings.
So, needless to say, finding a date in this town when I was growing up wasn’t easy. Impossible, actually.
You date me and you’re dating the club.
And there weren’t lot of decent guys lining up to do that.
Actually, there were zero.
Nada.
Zip.
That’s what you got for being me.
The only time I ever had any freedom with dating was in college where nobody knew anything about my involvement with the mighty Kings of Mayhem motorcycle club. Or whose daughter I was. Or whose niece I was. And I’ll tell you something else, getting a guy to ask you out on a date is a lot easier without three alpha brothers hanging around.
I really wanted to lose my virginity before going to college because how awkward would that be? But let’s just say that didn’t quite work out because no one in this town was game enough to date me, let alone fuck me.