Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
She looked like she was ready to kill me, over and over.
Yet I couldn’t suppress my smile.
This woman was a firecracker.
And I didn’t know it yet.
But this was the very moment my world flipped on its ass, and nothing would ever be the same again.
TAYLOR
“Who are you?” I demanded, protectively pulling my brother to me. I glanced at the Harley beside us, and then to the biker standing in front of me. The patch on the front of his leather vest read President. “And what the hell are you doing with my brother?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said with a smooth, Southern drawl. “I was just helping the kid out.”
“It didn’t look like you were trying to help him. It looked like you were trying to hit him.”
The biker looked at me casually, his brow creased. “You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.”
I glared at him. “Then explain it to me.”
“The kid was having some issues with his friends. I was riding past when I saw what was happening, so I stopped.”
I looked around us, but the parking lot was empty.
“Friends?” I held Noah at arm’s length so he could read my lips because I could already see he had taken his hearing aids out. “Did Tommy Albright and the Lewis twins do something to you?”
My brother’s downcast eyes and reluctant shrug confirmed my fears, and my heart broke. I had spoken to the school. I had even spoken to the parents. And for a while things had improved. But for some reason, when the three troublemakers got bored, they entertained themselves by picking on Noah.
Because he was different.
And because they were assholes.
I pulled him back into my arms, but he wriggled free.
Don’t treat me like a baby, he signed. I’m not a freak.
Another crack split into my heart.
No, you’re not, I signed back to him. No one here thinks that.
He will, he signed angrily, aiming his thumb at the biker who was watching us intently.
“He’s deaf?” the biker asked.
I gave him a sharp look. “Not completely. He usually wears hearing aids, but he takes them off because the kids pick on him.”
His brow furrowed, and it was a ridiculously sexy look.
“I was just talking to him and he seemed to understand me,” he said.
“He can read lips,” I explained, trying not to notice how smoky and delicious his deeply masculine voice was.
Noah tugged my arm. Stop talking about me like I’m not here.
I’m sorry, I signed back.
The biker stepped forward. He was big. With broad shoulders and arms that were all muscle. From afar he had been impressive. But up close, he was spectacular. Inky black hair. Strong jaw with the right amount of scruff. Full lips. His good looks were savage. I couldn’t see his eyes because he was wearing dark glasses. But I was pretty sure they would be just as spectacular as the rest of him.
“Listen, sweetheart—” he started.
But I cut him off. Because I had reached my quota for nicknames today.
“While I’m sure women get all hot and tingly whenever you call them sweetheart, I assure you, I am no sweetheart, especially when it comes to strangers talking to my kid brother. I’m also not impressed, or am I appreciative or interested in who you are, what you do, and how fantastic you think you are.”
Just then the biker took off his glasses and dear God, his eyes really were as spectacular as the rest of him. More so. Like sapphires fused with the brightest white light.
“What about hot and tingly?” he asked with a heated, sweeping gaze up and down my body.
My eyes narrowed despite goose bumps prickling along my skin. “Just stay away from me and my brother.”
“But Taylor…” Noah protested.
I ignored him, momentarily locked in battle with the biker. I knew I was being slightly over the top. But I was still frazzled from my run-in with Sleazy Breezy. Not to mention, now even more worried about the bullying.
And when Noah wasn’t where he was supposed to be…
The biker stepped forward, one perfect, dark eyebrow arched, his voice low and smoky.
“The kid needed someone to help him. That someone was me. You’re welcome.” He swung one long leg over the Harley, and with a flick of a switch, brought it to life. He slid his glasses back on.
“Remember what I said, kid. The best way to avoid a fight is to talk your way out of it. But when that doesn’t work, think about those moves I showed you, okay?” He nodded at Noah, then pointed those dark glasses in my direction, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Catch you later … sweetheart.”
With a roar he was gone.
And I was left standing there reeling.
I was always going to meet the president of the Kings of Mayhem motorcycle club.
I just never imagined it would happen like this.