Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“You asked if I know any women. Does she count? ’Cause her toes are cute as hell, but I don’t see her walkin’ around in flip-flops in the snow.”
“Why the fuck are you lookin’ at my sister’s toes, cocksucker?”
“I look at a lot more than her toes.”
“Don’t make me kill you, bro.”
He snorted and shrugged. “You could try.”
I adjusted my sunglasses, deciding to ignore him. The truck windows were tinted, but I’d still taken a few basic precautions to change my appearance. Hipster beanie, which matched the full beard I’d grown for my last job. Long-sleeved shirt that covered my ink. Even if she saw me, all I needed was a quick shave and change to turn into a different man.
The shop door opened and I sat up as two girls stepped out. There she was.
Emmy Lou Hayes.
“That’s our girl,” I said, with a jerk of my chin. She was studying her phone and, sure as shit, she wore flip-flops. Bright pink foam thingies threaded through her toes, separating them, and I wondered how the hell she could even walk. Fuckin’ crazy. At least the sidewalk was mostly clear of snow. Her brown hair sat on top of her head in one of those messy topknot things girls always seem to have, and she wore tight little jeans and a black leather jacket.
Damn, Em was cute. Way cuter than her sister.
Something fell out of her pocket, and she turned away, leaning down to grab it.
“Nice ass,” Skid said. “Very sweet. If you have to fuck her, at least you’ll be able to keep your eyes open, unlike that last bitch you did for the club.”
I snorted, but he raised a good point. Fucking Em had just jumped up a couple notches on my list of possible ways to manipulate her into helping the Jacks. She glanced down at her phone again, waving good-bye to her friend absently.
Then she walked right off the curb and almost fell on her ass.
Her phone flew across the ground and under a car, like something out of a TV show. Em staggered to one side and then the other, somehow managing to stay on her feet, arms flailing. Skid choked back a laugh, but I just watched, mesmerized, as she finally caught herself. That’s when Em looked up and across the parking lot, right into my face. Her expression was startled but fucking gorgeous. She broke into a brilliant smile, offering me a goofy wave.
My cock stiffened and a burst of adrenaline hit me like a punch to the gut. Sticking my dick inside Emmy Hayes had suddenly become a very high priority. It took everything I had not to throw open the truck door and toss the girl over my shoulder before hauling her back home for a long, hard fuck. Instead I sat back and watched.
There’s a reason the club calls me Hunter.
She lifted one leg slightly, pointing at her toes and giving a triumphant thumbs-up in my direction before turning away to search for her phone.
“Christ, there’s something wrong with that chick,” Skid muttered, but I ignored him. Instead I grabbed my phone and dialed Burke, my mind made up.
“Burke, I’m lookin’ at her right now.”
“You got a plan for me?”
“Gettin’ there,” I told him. “But whatever direction we take, Emmy Hayes stays my target. Nobody fucks with her but me.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Make it work for the club, son, and I could give a fuck. But no matter how much you want the bitch, don’t forget where your loyalties lie. Jacks first. Forever.”
“Jacks first,” I agreed, watching as she dug her phone out of the snow.
This was gonna be fun.
PRESENT DAY
COEUR D’ALENE, IDAHO
EM
“If you don’t make a move on Painter tonight, I will personally charter a plane, fly up there, and kick your ass.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered into the phone at my sister. “But you don’t get a vote. I’m still pissed at you for not coming home this summer.”
“Riiight,” she drawled. “Let me see—internship in San Francisco or yet another summer of Dad growling at me … Sooo tempting. If you had half a brain, your ass would be down here with me.”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not that easy, Kit.”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice sharp. “It is that easy. Let me walk you through the conversation. ‘Dad, I’ve decided I want a life. Deal with it.’ Then get in your car and drive south.”
I sighed.
“It’s not that easy for me,” I said, looking over at the Reapers clubhouse. The big, isolated former National Guard Armory was fully lit, a beacon in the summer twilight. The trees surrounding it felt familiar, like old friends. I’d played in them as child—hide-and-seek, pixies … oh, and motorcycle clubs. We’d played MC a lot.
Pisser about that—now the boys got to play Reapers for real and I still couldn’t land a fucking date.