Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Right. And they were amazing.
A decade ago, they met a broken child who could barely be in the presence of a Y chromosome without a complete meltdown and began the adoption process almost immediately. John, her adoptive father, was a mild-mannered man under five foot eight. He worked as a librarian at a university and never raised his voice in his life. Living with him and her lively adoptive mother healed her.
To an extent.
But they hadn’t adopted her because of a deep yearning to become parents. They’d done it because they were good, kind people who couldn’t stand to witness someone suffering. People like Jen and her fiancé, Mario, who couldn’t wait to start a family, didn’t understand the difference.
But there was one.
She’d been fed, sheltered, and provided for in every way, but something had been missing—the loving connection between parent and child. She didn’t begrudge her adoptive parents. After all, they’d never planned to have children and saved her from a continued life in foster care. But she’d still longed for the missing piece in her life. The familial love Jen took for granted because she’d had it before she took her first breath.
Maybe Rachel could find that in her half-brother. Even if, by all accounts, he was a large man who lived a hard life and was exactly the type of guy she steered clear of.
“You’re right,” she said. “I do have them. But—”
“But it’s not the same.” Jen sighed. She’d heard this spiel one too many times. “Okay, how about this? Think about it for a while. And I don’t mean a day of research at the computer. Think about it until… let’s say, December. If you still want to meet him after a few months of rattling the idea around in that head of yours, then I’ll help you.”
Rachel stared out at the still water of the pond. She loved this park. The quiet waters represented a peace she strove to achieve for herself. A difficult feat when monsters from the past still lived in her head. Over the years, she’d become proficient at slaying most of them, but now and again, one snuck through and wreaked havoc on her hard-won serenity.
“What do you think?” Jen asked, nudging Rachel with her shoulder when she stayed silent too long.
She blinked and shifted her focus away from the pond. “Sorry. Yeah, I think that’s a really great idea. This way, I can be sure I’m not making a rash decision.”
“Exactly.” Jen beamed at her. “Well, we walked about three hundred feet. I could really go for a pumpkin-spiced reward. What do you think?”
Rachel laughed. Leave it to Jen to lighten the mood. She was going to miss her friend when she moved in with her fiancé next year. “I think that sounds perfect.”
They stood and changed direction, heading for a local café that served the most sinfully delicious pumpkin spiced lattes and cream cheese frosted pumpkin bread.
“Age before beauty,” Jen said as she pulled the café’s door open and motioned for Rachel to head in first.
“Ha ha.” Rachel walked into the café. She was exactly ten days older than her friend, who loved to pretend each day was a year. She glanced down to fish her wallet out of her hoodie pocket. Before she had a chance to lift her gaze, she smacked head-on into a brick wall.
“Shit! Sorry, miss.”
Rachel glanced up. Not a brick wall—he was a huge mountain of muscle in running shorts and a sweatshirt. Her eyes widened, and her tongue dried up.
The mammoth frowned. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“N-n-n—”
“She’s fine.” Jen’s arm slipped through hers. “No worries. Have a good day.” She steered Rachel away from the man and toward the short checkout line. “You okay?” she whispered.
Dammit. Rachel closed her eyes, swallowed and then took two deep breaths. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” Jen kept their arms linked as the line quickly shortened.
How on earth was she supposed to meet this badass biker brother of hers if she couldn’t even bump into a large man without freaking out?
Well, at least she had the next two months to figure it out.
CHAPTER ONE
JACK HEFTED THE case of beer onto his shoulder, then trudged toward the staircase leading upstairs. This would be his third trip in as many minutes. The club had a party planned that night. A huge blowout to celebrate Lock, one of the patched members, receiving custody of his infant nephew.
Jack shuddered. Seemed like they should be hosting a funeral for the poor guy’s social life instead of a celebration, but what the hell did he know? He couldn’t exactly claim to have much experience with kids, nor did he have much of a social life.
Scrap that! Any social life.
“Hey, Jacky,” Jinx said as Jack reached the top of the stairs. He hated the name Jacky. Abso-fucking-lutely hated it, but as a prospect for an outlaw MC, he’d be a fucking fool to mention it. It’d be the only thing they called him for the rest of his damn life.