Table of Contents
Riding Hard
Publication Information
Dedication
Author Acknowledgments
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
About the Author
Also Available
Also Available
Thank You
Riding Hard
by
J.L. Sheppard
Hell Ryders MC Book 4
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Riding Hard
COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Jeanette L. Sheppard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2019
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2575-0
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2576-7
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For Bryce Daniel Sheppard
Author Acknowledgments
As always, a big thank you to my family and friends for their continued support.
To my editor, Sharon Pickrel, I’m forever thankful for all I’ve learned and all I continue to learn from you. Thank you also for your hard work and patience.
To my publisher, including everyone who works behind the scenes: Rhonda, RJ, Diana, and Lisa to name a few, thank you for giving me the opportunity to reach countless readers, and especially, for believing in my stories.
Last but not least, to my readers, it’s for you I write. I’m forever grateful.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
J.L. Sheppard
RUNNING WILD
“Ready for some hot bikers? J.L. Sheppard has a new series for you!”
~Night Owl Reviews
~*~
“A great beginning to a new MC series!”
~InD’tale Magazine
RUNNING HOT
“Running Hot is impossible to put down! A great read for anytime of the year!”
~InD’tale Magazine
~*~
“Running Hot is an amazing second book in a must read series!”
~TBR Pile
RIDING BLIND
“You won’t want to put [Riding Blind] down until it’s over. And even then, you’ll want more…”
~Sweet & Spicy Reads
~*~
“J.L. Sheppard has written a beautiful second-chance love story…”
~Beyond the Covers
Chapter One
Alexa Millen wiped the sweat beaded on her brow with the sleeve of her shirt and continued unpacking kitchenware from the cardboard box.
Two boxes down, ten thousand to go. At least that’s what it felt like. If she spent the next decade unpacking, she wouldn’t care because as the proud owner of a three-bedroom bungalow, she’d moved for the last time.
The thought made her giddy all over again. A homeowner! No more moving, ever. She’d been beyond thrilled, more excited than she’d ever been for the last three months, a very, very long three months. The countdown began the minute she closed on her home and started renovations.
Her adorable house needed a lot of work and updating, but she couldn’t afford it all at once, so she’d done what anyone else would’ve and settled on renovating the most important things first: floors, master bathroom, and kitchen, which included knocking down a wall to make her home open concept. She managed to afford this after purchasing the home on a teacher’s salary because she’d saved forever and she bid on a foreclosed home in Wadden, a small, quaint, and quiet town about half an hour from Santa Rosa, California. It was perfect, close to the beach and an hour from San Francisco, where her sister lived. Not to mention, she’d been lucky enough to find a job at the elementary school in that cute town. Come Monday morning, she’d be the kindergarten teacher at Wadden Elementary located three blocks from her home.
Her new job so close to her house made her love her home that much more even if just three months ago it’d been a disaster, even if the stress of renovating took about a decade off her life, even if she still had to renovate a full bath, the deck, and pool, which would no doubt take another decade off her life.
The best part about her home? All hers. She didn’t need a man, her parents, her sister, or even a roommate. She’d saved every dime on her own. It took a long time, but it made it all the more rewarding.
Smiling, she stopped unpacking for a second to look around her open-concept living room, dining room, and kitchen. The space looked so much bigger than it had before renovating even with the series of boxes piled inside.
Her beige couch faced the accent wall she’d painted navy where her flat screen television would eventually go. An expresso coffee table sat in front of it. Under it, a beautiful rug with a mass of colors. Blues, purples, greens, and browns covered part of her new hardwood floor. The dining room was empty if you didn’t count the moving boxes. She’d sold her two-seater dining table intent on buying a bigger one. This would have to wait since the renovation budget flew out the window after several unexpected expenses.
Her kitchen was absolutely gorgeous: same hardwood floors, dark cabinets, a gorgeous backsplash with a pop of blue color, and marble countertops. On the island, she’d installed a thick slab of bamboo. A large window in the kitchen allowed her to see the large backyard including the mess of her deck and pool. Still, that window was panoramic and larger than any she’d ever seen. It’d inevitably be more gorgeous when she fixed her backyard. Beside the kitchen, a sliding glass door led outside.
To the other side of the kitchen, the one-car garage she’d use mostly for storage. Next to the living room, a hallway led into the guest bathroom and bedrooms. Her master suite was the last room, large enough to fit her bedroom furniture and there was still room for a reading nook: a lounge chair of some sort, a bookcase with her favorites, small end table, and lamp. This would also have to wait. Up next, the most important, fixing the guest bathroom. Pink tiles, pink toilet, and pink sink, a pale pink that made her want to puke. Demolition started Monday.
She couldn’t wait. Looking at the demo mess would be better than that pink bathroom.
Her phone rang drawing her gaze away from the box she’d been unpacking. Checking the caller ID, she smiled and slid her finger across the screen. “Hey, Meg.”
“Don’t you sound excited to hear from me.”
She smirked. “Thrilled.”
“Spare me the sarcasm, sis.”
Planting a hand on her hip, she shot back, “You started it.” Funny how she never got too old to say that to her sibling.
Meg laughed. “Give me a break, okay? We’re worried about you.”
Alexa hated being the baby. It meant she’d always be the baby even if she’d soon turn thirty. She knew her sister meant well. Meg always meant well, so Alexa kept her temper in check.
She bit her bottom lip and released it. “I know.”
“Wish you would’ve stayed in San Fran, Lex.”
Yikes. Her sister sounded sad. Meg let herself believe she’d stay in San Francisco. Just three years apart, they were close. Part of it had to do with the fact that they spent their childhood moving from place to place.
Staying in San Francisco had never been an option. Alexa didn’t like big cities. She liked small, quiet towns. After college, she’d moved to San Francisco because of Meg, but she never intended to stay. When she started house hunting, she considered her sister. It was one of the reasons her house in Wadden was perfect.
“I’m an hour away, Meg.”
“I know, Lex. It’s just…” Meg trailed off. When she spoke again, she sounded choked up. “I always thought when we were grown up, we’d live close, like around-the-corner close, not an-hour-away close.”
She swallowed. “We’ve been grown for a while, Meg.”
“You know what I mean…when we settled down, got married. Any day now you’re going to meet the guy for you, and then, you’ll get married and have kids and—”
Alexa wished it were that easy. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying an old maid. Fact, she’d grown tired of dating, tired of waiting, tired of men in general.
She released a heavy sigh. “I know Tim’s awesome, and I’m glad you have him, but not every guy is Tim. Trust me.”
“Oh God, really, this bullshit again?”
Maybe she had been talking about it too much, partially Meg’s fault, hers and their mother’s. She’d lost count of the many times they’d set her up with Tim’s friends, with co-workers, with random freaking strangers. She was done dating and now, officially done talking about it.
“What? Now you’re ignoring me?” Meg snapped.
Where’d that come from? She hadn’t hesitated but a second.
She furrowed her brows and tilted her head before she carefully asked, “Are you okay?”
“Crap. Yeah…just…I’m pregnant.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach, butterflies there making her jittery. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant?”
“Yeah.”
A wide smile spread across her face. “I’m going to be an auntie!”
“Ugh, yes. You’re going to be an aunt, but who knows when this kid will meet you since you live in BFE.”
She loved her sister, but Megan was a handful: moody, emotional, and dramatic with a capital D. Now pregnant? Poor Tim.
She laughed. “I’m an hour away. Stop stressing, and congrats. I bet Tim is—”
“Haven’t told him yet.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Why?”
“I just found out this morning, and he’s working today.”
It was Saturday, but Tim was a workaholic and good at his job. It’s the reason he’d been promoted to Chief Accounting Officer of BEX Real Estate, a large, publicly traded company, at the ripe age of thirty-four.
“You need to fill me in when you do.”
“You know I will.”
“Though I doubt you’ll have to. I know he’ll be thrilled.”
“Yeah, definitely. He’s wanted this for a while. All I have to do is think of the perfect way to tell him.”
She and Meg discussed the many ways to announce the news to Tim while she unpacked another two boxes. When she got a crick in her neck, she promised her sister she’d call tomorrow and hung up.
She still had a couple of boxes in her car, so she decided to unload those before she continued unpacking. Heading out the front door with her keys in hand, she unlocked her car and opened the passenger side door of her Toyota Camry. She grabbed a box filled with miscellaneous items, shut the door with her hip, then strode inside and placed the box in the dining room. Back outside, she popped her trunk, reached inside, and clutched another box, this one smaller, also labeled miscellaneous. When she turned, her gaze dropped and landed on a boy.
Young, four, maybe five, wearing a black tee, a pair of jeans ripped at the knee, and sneakers. He had a head of beautifully thick, dark-brown, disheveled hair and a set of piercing, large, brown eyes with long, dark lashes. Those striking eyes were deadlocked on her, not just staring but observing her. This, she knew from his drawn brows, contemplative expression, and the intelligence that shined through those eyes.
She smiled softly. “Hi, there.”
Tearing her stare from his, she looked down the street both ways and across it. Several kids wandered, a few playing basketball, several others chasing each other, but no adult, no one who could be his parent.
She peered back at him. “I’m Alexa, but everyone calls me Lex. What’s your name?”
He lifted a hand and rubbed his eye with his knuckles.
“Are you lost?”
He shook his head.
She didn’t think so either, but at least now, she knew he understood her. He didn’t share his name, but maybe he was younger than he looked and didn’t know how to pronounce it. Maybe he didn’t speak yet, or maybe he’d been taught not to talk to strangers.
“Do you live nearby?”
He nodded. Then he grinned.
She parted her mouth, but before she managed a word, a shout echoed.
“Cullen!”
She jumped, almost dropping the box she held, and shut her mouth. Her head snapped up, and her stare fell on him. Tall, more than six-feet easily, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. His face, strong, clean lines, stubble covered his chin and cheeks. Lips full, thick, dark-brown, disheveled hair, short on the sides and longer on top, like the boy’s. Also like the boy’s, his eyes were big and a rich brown color.
Beautiful, as in the most attractive man she’d ever seen.
She thought this as her gaze traveled from his face to his torso, legs, and feet. He wore a pair of jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt, and over it, a leather vest with an inscription on one side that read, “Hell Ryders Motorcycle Club.” She knew when he turned she’d see an emblem, a set of angel wings in flames with a skull in the middle. Around it, it’d read, “Hell Ryders Motorcycle Club.” Just that morning, she spotted a few bikers wearing those vests and figured they were passing through town.
“What the fuck?” His voice loud and gravelly, jaw clenched. “Didn’t I tell you never to cross the street alone?”
The boy, now turned partially away from her, facing the man, didn’t appear afraid. He held his head high, shoulders back.
“Why’re you bothering—”
“He wasn’t bothering me…”
The man’s head shot up. His stare landed on her then slowly drifted down the length of her. When he met her eyes again, his narrowed and a muscle in his jaw twitched. There was something else too, something she saw in the deep depths of his eyes that then flashed across his face.
Both men and women looked at her a lot, and usually, they couldn’t help it. Not because she was trim or drop-dead gorgeous or anything except the fact that her hair was strawberry blonde and drew a lot of attention. Men’s gazes would gravitate to the color then trail down her body. Nothing to write home about there but not bad. Finally, they’d take a closer look at her face. She’d seen men seem thoughtful, intrigued
, and even a couple of times, hungry. But a man had never looked at her like that. It hurt because under that anger, she saw disgust; she repulsed the beautiful man.
Then again, there was a first time for everything, but it was a nasty blow to her self-esteem, one she didn’t need considering her on-again, off-again ex had damaged it to the point of no return.
She fought a wince and held his eyes. The whole time, she ached from her head to her toes and battled the urge to cry her eyes out.
His stare sliced to the boy. “You do this again, Cullen, I’m grounding you for a month, a month with no TV, no playing outside. You understand?”
The boy nodded.
The man turned his head glancing both ways down the street then looked at the boy. “Go home. Inside. No playing outside for the rest of the day.”
The boy crossed the street and went into the larger home across from hers, meaning that motorcycle club was most likely local, meaning also that every time she looked across the street, she’d remember the beautiful man she repulsed.
The man’s gaze swung to her. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t butt into how I raise my kid, how I discipline my kid.”
Well, that answered that. He was the father, Cullen’s father. She should’ve figured since they looked alike except the man was part of a motorcycle club. She didn’t think they had kids, not purposefully anyway. Maybe that was just a stereotype though.
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t speak. Even if she could, she wouldn’t. The beautiful man had made his point, so she nodded. Then clutching the box tightly against her chest, she turned and walked too quickly toward her house. She made it inside before the first and only tear she allowed trailed down her face.
What a welcome.
Chapter Two
Alexa couldn’t complain. Her first week in her new home, new job, new town, went well, if she excluded meeting her unfriendly neighbor.
Monday, her first day at work, had been nerve-wracking and long, only natural. After introductions, the students had questions about their former teacher. She answered as best as she could and then had the class play a game to liven the mood and get everyone more comfortable. Later, she jumped in to her lesson plan.
Riding Hard (Hell Ryders MC Book 4) Page 1
