Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“What kinda party are we talking?” Colter asked.
“Booze, girls, good times,” Rook said.
“Food?” Colter asked.
“Gotta ask Detroit about that,” Rook said, nodding toward me.
“I’m cooking,” I agreed. I figured Everleigh would likely pitch in with me, not seeming to be much of a party girl, but not wanting to be seen as anti-social by staying upstairs either. “Got any requests?” I asked.
“Steak. A fucking steak,” Colter said. “Been dreaming about real meat for years. Mashed potatoes not from a box,” he went on. “Vegetables not from a can. And something sweet.”
“Everleigh has the sweet covered,” Coach said.
“We got Everleigh cooking now too?” Rook asked, always feeling a bit out of the loop because he wasn’t allowed to live with us yet.
“Baking,” I clarified. “She likes to bake. She’s on an autumn baking kick. Pumpkin pie, apple cider donuts…”
“Think she could make a chocolate cream pie?” Colter asked.
“I can ask,” I said, nodding, but I knew she would agree to do it.
“Fuck,” Colter said as he walked into the common space of the clubhouse, his gaze moving around, trying to take it all in. “Cat,” he said, reaching down to scoop up Cat, flipping him upside down to hold him like a baby. And the fucker started to purr like it was the greatest thing in the world. “Dogs too?” he asked as Murphy’s dogs walked into the room, eyeing the stranger with curiosity, and maybe a little suspicion. They were her guard dogs, after all.
“Miranda and Samantha,” Rook told him as he moved forward to pet the German Shepherds. “Also got chickens out back. Oh, and Dell’s dog. Little Corgi. Thinks everyone is his best friend. He’s not always here, though.”
It seemed like Colter was easy with animals, putting the cat down to give each of the dogs a solid petting.
“Fucking miss my dog,” he said with a deep sigh. “He passed right before I got home from my last tour.”
The poor bastard.
Lost his dog.
Then found out his best friend was fucking his wife.
What a homecoming.
“What kind of dog?” Murphy asked as she followed her dogs in from, likely, playing fetch out back.
“Basset,” Colter said with a smirk. “Stubborn-ass dog. But lots of love to give.”
“And, I mean, the ears,” Murphy said with a smirk.
“Gotta love the ears,” Colter agreed.
“Anytime you need a dog fix, the girls love fetch. And long walks,” Murphy told him. “Murphy,” she said, giving Colter her hand. “I’m with—“
“Me,” Sway said, coming up behind her, and slinging an arm over her shoulders. “Sway.”
It was all introductions then as Slash, Riff, and Raff came in. Eventually, Crow and Judge showed up to meet the new guy too, and I snuck out to go grab the groceries for dinner, snagging some pumpkin spice creamer for Everleigh because it seemed like it would be right up her alley, then heading back.
By the time I got there, Crow, Judge, and Slash had either headed out or went to their rooms, and the guys were already drinking and getting loud.
I found Everleigh waiting in the kitchen, looking uncomfortable, but waiting to help me unpack the food, and start working on the chocolate cream pie she’d agreed to make for Colter.
“So, this is a biker party,” she said a few minutes later as I set her up chopping some veg for dinner while I seasoned the steaks.
“Sweetheart… no,” I said with a little laugh that had her turning, brows furrowed. “This is… a pre-party,” I told her. “It’s about to get a whole lot crazier. But we’re gonna try to get some food in their stomachs before it gets there,” I told her.
We worked quickly and quietly. Not that we would have heard each other with the music starting to blast anyway.
“Detroit, my friend, my brother, the light of my stomach’s life,” Raff said, already halfway to sloppy drunk. “That last part was a little weird, but you know what I mean,” he said, trying to stick his finger in the bowl of mashed potatoes I was trying to whip, only to get his finger swatted with the wooden spoon Everleigh was holding.
“I’m not calling Lula,” I said, knowing where he was going with this.
“But she’s the love of my life, man,” Raff said, pressing a dramatic hand to his heart. “We are suffering each moment we are not together,” he insisted.
“She barely knows you exist,” I said, smirking as his body jerked like bullets were riddling it.
That wasn’t technically true.
Lula knew Raff existed. How could she not, when he was forever declaring his undying love to her? But as far as I knew, Lula just found it charming and silly rather than an actual interest in her.
Which was fair.
It wasn’t serious.
If it was serious, Raff would plant his ass in Shady Valley and take her on a proper date. As it was, he just liked to flirt endlessly with her when he was in town, and enjoy the life of a single man when he wasn’t fawning over her.