The man growled in frustration and turned away, but not before saying, “I’ll be calling league officials about this.”
I rolled my eyes and turned around to find everyone at my back but Lynn. Lynn, who was now at Tucker’s game talking to him on the sideline.
I grinned and looked at my men.
“Thanks.” I jerked my chin up.
“Welcome,” Trick teased. “We were worried about you.”
Scoffing, I pushed through them and walked to my wife, who was holding our youngest in her arms.
Baker was still a baby. Only six months old. But he liked to get in the thick of it just like the rest of them.
“You’ve raised mini-demons,” she whispered. “They’re going to get in trouble one of these days.”
I grinned and pulled her into my chest, causing Baker to screech in protest at me being close to his mom.
“Gotta make sure they know how to handle their own,” I teased as I pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Gross. Get a room,” I heard one of her brothers say.
Belle leaned in until our son really was kicking up a storm, and then said, “Love you, Bruno.”
I pressed my hand against her ass. “Love you more, Belle.”
“Y’all seriously disgust me,” Bourne groaned as he reached for my son. “Come here, little man. Let’s get you away from this torture.”
Belle laughed as she wrapped her arms around me, pressing in close. “Let’s go home. Those pigs aren’t going to feed themselves.”
No, they sure the hell were not.
Fat, always hungry bastards.
• • •
I hope you enjoyed Bruno & Belle. Up next is Haggard & Sophia in Always Someone’s Monster, book 1 in the Battle Crows MC series.
Turn the page for a sneak preview.
CHAPTER 1
Do you know what Texas weather is like? That’s what dating a Texas girl is like.
-overheard coffee shop conversations
SOPHIA
“Can you please, please, please do it for me?” Clementine, my best friend, begged.
I looked over at her and frowned. “I can, yes. But I have to work tomorrow early. That means I’ll have to get up at five to leave your dad’s place by five-thirty to get to work by six.”
I’d just started a new job.
My first ‘big girl’ job as my dad liked to say.
A job that I hated.
No, loathed.
I’m talking, if there were another job available in Paris, Texas, even if it paid half of what I was being paid now, I’d take it in a heartbeat kind of hated it.
The first day as a sales rep at Paris Motors, I’d done really well. I’d actually sold my first car before I’d even really been on the clock.
Unfortunately for me, having done that, I’d taken the commission out of another woman’s pocket. A woman that’d been on the phone with a client who hadn’t purchased a car like my client—the one that I got a thousand-dollar commission off of—she hadn’t been very happy.
From that point forward, I’d spent the majority of my time at the car dealership trying to keep my head attached to my body.
Each morning, I’d get there and find out that I was assigned to work with Blakely, and I seriously wanted to commit suicide by bus.
Or maybe golf cart.
Whatever worked at this point…
“I do hate it,” I admitted. “But I can’t quit. Quitting means admitting that she’s right, and she’s fucking not. So I’m going to keep working there, and I’m going to show up in my fucking short dress and cleavage-baring top, and get my fucking commission.”
“You can do all that, still go workout, and get to work on time, while also watching our dog,” she pushed.
I sighed.
Two years ago, Clementine’s dad had purchased a family protection dog. Honestly, he was great, did some awesome protecting, but the damn dog couldn’t be left alone because he got bored easily.
When he didn’t have someone to protect, he occupied himself by eating the walls.
And, since Clementine’s dad was out of town on business, and Clem’s parents had recently gotten an official divorce, that meant that Trista, Clem’s mom, wasn’t there either.
Leaving Clem the only one to watch Body.
“I realize that you think that I’m a whore for…” I held up my hand to stop Clem’s words.
“Clem,” I said carefully. “I never said you were a whore.”
“You’re looking at me like I’m about to mutate into a disease you don’t want any part of,” she countered.
I wasn’t.
Not really.
I just couldn’t believe that she was going to go to Las Vegas, in a dress that short, with a man she didn’t know, and a friend that I wasn’t sure that I liked all that much.
If I didn’t have to work, I would’ve forced myself on them so I could go and keep an eye on Clem.
But Clem was a big girl, I did have work, and I wasn’t going to change her mind.
“Fine,” I said after a couple more seconds of her pouting. “But please, please, please, will you put on some bike shorts under that? Wearing something that low means that you bend over, people will see what you’re working with.”
“What who’s working with?”
I looked up at my dad and smiled. “Clem’s going to Las Vegas, and she thinks that wearing this black dress will get her laid.”
My dad’s eye twitched as he turned his gaze on my best friend.
Clem’s face went a rapid red as she shifted in her seat. “Soph…”
I knew, just as well as she did, that she harbored some sort of weird crush on my dad.
I wasn’t sure why, or to what extent she felt it, but I knew that she found my dad attractive.
Kind of like how I found her dad attractive.
Attractive in a prematurely silvering, jacked, sexy beast of a bearded man kind of way.
My ‘attraction’ bordered on ‘intense.’
Not that Clem knew the depths of my attraction to her dad.
In fact, I had a feeling she was pretty oblivious to it all.
Because had she known of my obsession with her dad, she wouldn’t be asking me to go stay at his house.
She would understand the kind of temptation that would put me in.
“I would put on some shorts and a t-shirt with some comfortable tennis shoes,” my dad suggested, not even looking my way. “Walking up and down the Strip will be a nightmare.”
Clem scoffed. “Not any worse than running that half-marathon in heels like the one we ran together last spring.”
It was early fall now, and it was on the verge of switching from summer one to summer two heat temperature-wise.
We were at a balmy ninety-seven degrees, and it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet.
Today was going to suck.
Especially seeing as how I had to sit outside nearly most of the day to actually get to talk to a customer. Blakely, who had to conduct all of her business outside, and couldn’t move indoors, without being forced to give me a customer to work with every now and then.
“No,” my dad agreed, filling his thermos up for work. “Guess I’m headed to work. Shout if y’all need anything.” He paused next to where Clem was pushing some apple sauce around on her plate.
“For what it’s worth,” he said softly. “I think you should wear what I suggested. You never know what could happen on those streets. And you in that dress? Something is bound to happen. You just have to be able to control the situation.”
Before Clem could say anything more, my dad moved to me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be home around eleven. If you need me when you’re there, just text or call.”
My dad knew me so well.
He also looked rough today.
Almost a year ago to the day, my brother had lost his life due to an event he was working for a popular country singer. During that event, a bomb had exploded, takin
g my brother and nearly the country singer with it.
My dad was obviously devastated when news of Jasper’s death arrived, leaving us all to struggle a bit as my dad checked out. As in, checked out, checked out.
The only thing I’d seen that actually made him ‘participate’ in his life the last couple of months had been just last week when about twenty-five officers from State Highway Patrol to Elliott County Constables showed up in his parking lot thinking that he’d been shot.
It was only the last couple of weeks that I’d started to see slivers of the man that he used to be.
“Do you need any eggs?” Clem asked.
I blinked at her odd, random, off-the-wall question. “For what?”
Clem never ceased to surprise me.
“To donate,” she said. “I’m running by the women’s shelter on the way to the airport.” She paused and looked at me over her shoulder before leaning in and asking, “Are you sure that I’m fit enough to do this one?”
I had no clue what the hell she was talking about.
“Clem…” I started. “What are you talking about right now?”
“Sorry, I think I’m having half of this conversation in my head.” She paused again. “I want some of your eggs from your chickens to donate to my women’s shelter. Do you have any extra, not do you need any. Also, do you think I’m fit enough to do this marathon?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course, you are. And yes, I have some eggs you can take. About six dozen that I wasn’t able to sell at the farmer’s market on Saturday. My girls should give me plenty more by Saturday morning.”
Clem did an exaggerated air fist pump, then stood up. “Go get them. I need to leave if I’m going to make my flight on time.”
I did as she asked, coming back out with not six, but five dozen.
She frowned at the pile. “Not six?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m going to take a dozen to your dad’s place since I’m going over there.”
Clem rolled her eyes. “You spoil him.”
“Giving him eggs is spoiling him?” I asked curiously.
She started walking toward her car, and I followed her at a slower pace, my bare feet already burning on the concrete of the driveway I’d learned to ride my bike in.
“Giving him as many eggs as you do, since he has an egg obsession, is spoiling him,” she corrected me. “I’ll text you when I get there. Bye, love you!”
I waved at her but moved over to the grass to do that, realizing rather quickly that I should’ve put on shoes to make the trip down with her.
When she was gone and I couldn’t see her car anymore, I used the edges of the grass that needed mowing about a week ago to walk back inside on.
Once inside, I packed my bag and then got ready for work. When I was done with that, I slipped my chicken boots on and walked outside to let the girls out.
They all came, flapping and excited, making me laugh.
“Y’all are going to have to go up on your own tonight,” I said as I fed them. “Because you know that Dad won’t bother counting all of you to make sure you’re inside. Capiche?”
They didn’t answer me, too busy enjoying their food to give a fuck about the state of their lives later when my dad would shut the coop for me.
My dad just last year built it for me with Haggard, after I’d all but begged him to let me have chickens.
He hadn’t wanted them. But eventually he’d given in with Haggard teasing him about being afraid of birds.
Though he’d given in, the very last thing he wanted to do was deal with them.
Even if he loved me unconditionally.
“Bye, girls!” I called out and headed to my car.
It wasn’t until I was there that I realized that I’d forgotten to change out of my rubber boots that sported cute little chickens on them from Tractor Supply.
“Shit,” I said as I looked down at the stained and dirty boots.
I looked up at the dealership and knew that Todd Tracker, the owner, wouldn’t care one bit what I was wearing.
And honestly, the boots were rather comfortable.
I just had a feeling I would never hear the end of it from Blakely.
But with nothing I could do about it now, I got out of the car and prayed today would be the day that Todd saw how bitchy Blakely was and fire her.
My luck hadn’t been that great lately.
There’d only been one day that I hadn’t worked with her over the time that I’d been hired on, and that day I’d sold four trucks.
The next day, when Blakely had arrived and found out, she’d been furious.
Mostly because ‘if she’d been there’ I would’ve likely sold ‘none.’
What the fuck ever.
I was walking past the newest cars in the parking lot, some bright and shiny Corvettes that sounded so good they made my spine tingle, when a little old lady walked up to Blakely and stopped her from walking inside.
She was about my grandmother’s age, and she had the cutest little curls pinned to her head with a scarf holding them in place. She said something to Blakely who completely blew her off and pointed at me walking up behind them.
“She’ll help you.” Blakely rolled her eyes.
I paused next to the elderly woman and smiled as Blakely left with a huff.
“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes back, unable to help myself. “So rude.” I turned to the woman. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
The old lady’s eyes were shrewd as she said, “You can give me that chick’s boss’s name so I can tell him what a bitch she was. Then you can help me buy one of those.” She pointed to the Corvettes. “I want one in black and one in that viper red. My husband and I want matching ones. Other than the colors. Though, if you made mine faster, then that would be okay.”
I started to giggle then said, “Let me go put my bag in my office, then I’ll grab a set of keys to each of the cars. You can choose which black one, and which red one, you want.”
And that was how I sold two Corvettes and pissed Blakely off for the third time.
My crazy meter was red-lining it every time I walked within four feet of her for the rest of the day.
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Shakedown Page 20
