For the Love of Beard Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Dixie Warden Rejects MC #7)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Funny, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
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“We should’ve come earlier,” I mumbled as I looked around the deck.

It was packed.

So packed, in fact, that there wasn’t a single pool lounger available anywhere on the entire deck.

Tobias hummed and looked around, his eyes scanning the area like a trained professional.

Me, I didn’t see the same thing he saw.

I knew that without a fact.

Because each place I suggested sitting, he said no to. Either because he didn’t like the look of the person we’d be seated next to, or it wasn’t a good place to sit.

I didn’t ask him why, but I was damn curious to know what he was seeing that I wasn’t.

“I only see two seats,” he murmured. “They’re all the way at the top, and in the back. See them?”

I looked at where he was gesturing with his finger, and I nodded. “There aren’t any lights up there. How the hell did you see that?”

He shrugged and started up there. I walked much more slowly in the darkness that was only lit up by the large TV screen.

Bypassing the people sitting on the stairs, I hurried behind Tobias as fast as I could with the boat rocking underneath my feet.

When he came to the spot where there were two seats, he dropped down to his knee on the first one, and then froze.

“Gonna have to share one, honey,” Tobias said, standing right back up.

“Why?” I questioned.

He looked over at the couple on the other side of him, and shook his head.

“Best guess?” he asked. “I think this one fell asleep and spilled his beer. It’s soaked.”

My belly started to tighten.

Chapter 8

Do you ever want to go up to someone and flip them off, then slap their face? No, just me?

-Text from Finley to Tobias

Tobias

There are three things that I could look back on and see were the tipping points for Audrey.

One, she was sitting practically on top of me in the middle of the crowd. The crowd somehow made her bold when otherwise she would’ve been silent.

Two, it was cold. Meaning I’d gone and gotten two blankets—having to sell my soul to the devil, or better known as the deck hand, to get them—and six towels.

Three, we were both tipsy.

Me more so than her. She’d stopped after only one beer, and by the time we were three hours into the Super Bowl, I was well on my way to a good buzz after my sixth bottle of beer.

The deck hands were amazing. They were there, never letting my beer bucket run empty. They were passing out popcorn and offering to bring cookies. Literally, if there was one thing I’d recommend to anybody that loves football, it was to go on a cruise while it was showing. That way you are waited on hand and foot, and you don’t have to move from your spot.

Which I was already reluctant to do seeing as there was a warm woman in between my thighs, leaning her head against my chest.

My balls were slightly squished due to the position, but there wasn’t a single thing I would change about how we’d spent the last couple of hours.

“I think they’re going to win,” Audrey declared.

I snorted.

“They’re down by three touchdowns, darlin’,” I said. “There’s no way they’re going to win.”

Her smile was sweet and filled with menace all at the same time. “I like rooting for the underdogs.”

“The underdogs are not the Patriots,” I informed her. “The underdogs are the other team. The Patriots won last year’s Super Bowl. Trust me, they’re not a crowd favorite.”

Which she’d heard all night. Seemed like the entire boat were not Patriots fans. Whenever the other team scored, the whole boat would cheer, me included.

But as I watched, the game started to take a downhill turn. One second Atlanta was winning, and the next…they weren’t.

“How…” I shook my head. “How?”

The confusion must’ve been evident in my voice, because she laughed, her head thrown back, and she wiggled all at once.

And right then and there, I knew that I loved this woman.

I’d almost said it earlier in the pool, but I hadn’t actually allowed myself to realize the extent of my feelings. She was starting to mean the world to me, and I couldn’t seem care.

I didn’t care that I loved this woman.

And let me explain before my words get taken out of context.

I’d made a promise to myself, after my sisters had died, that I would never love anyone again. Love equaled heartache, and I didn’t have the time, nor the inclination, for that.

Pain was debilitating, and I didn’t want to have to deal with the same pain that my sister had put me through when she’d taken herself so cruelly from my life.

My sister, Abby, had died in a home invasion. Though it had broken my heart that she died, I wasn’t nearly as close to her as I had been to Amy. She was older than me, had moved out of our house by the time I was in high school, and honestly, didn’t have much to do with our family once she’d married.


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