Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
The smell must have worked its magic because by the time I was plating everything, the kitchen door swung open. One biker entered, then another, and soon there was a crowd of leather clad men eyeing the food like wolves circling a wounded deer.
"Morning, boys," I said, forcing confidence into my voice as I placed the last platter on the counter. "Breakfast is served."
A tall guy with a wild beard was the first to move, reaching for a plate and already piling it high. The others followed suit, creating a small stampede toward the food. I stepped back, watching as they descended like locusts, grabbing and shoving without any semblance of order.
"Hold it!" I slammed my wooden spoon against the counter hard enough to make several of them jump. "This is all I'm making today, so if you want to eat, you'll line up properly and take reasonable portions." I planted myself in front of the food, hip cocked to one side, spoon held like a weapon.
The bikers froze, exchanging glances that ranged from amused to disbelieving. One of them, the guy who'd nearly started a fight over chili yesterday, let out a disbelieving laugh.
"You telling us what to do, little girl?"
I swallowed hard but stuck my chin up and held my ground. "I'm telling you how to get fed. There's a difference."
The tension in the room thickened as several large men stared me down. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my chin up and my grip tight on the spoon. Farm life had taught me one thing. You never show weakness to predators.
"You got a problem with the way my woman wants you to behave in her kitchen, you can fuckin’ starve."
Jack's voice cut through the tension like a knife. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his massive chest, those blue eyes taking in the scene with dangerous calm. I hadn't heard him approach, but the effect of his presence was immediate. The men straightened, a few even taking steps back.
"No problem, Prez," the bearded man said quickly. "Just admiring the spread."
"Then form a fuckin' line and show some fuckin’ respect." Jack moved further into the room, coming to stand beside me. His hand brushed against my lower back, a touch so brief I might have imagined it if not for the warmth that bloomed under my skin. "My old lady went to all this trouble. Least you assholes can do is eat like humans, not fuckin’ animals."
The tension broke as the men laughed, forming a surprisingly orderly line. Jack stayed beside me, his shoulder nearly touching mine as the club members filed past, filling their plates with murmured thanks and appreciative nods.
"Didn't expect to find you feeding my men," Jack said quietly, his voice pitched for my ears alone. "Thought you'd still be asleep."
"I wake up early," I shrugged, serving him a heaping plate before taking a more modest portion for myself. "And I figured if I'm stuck here, I might as well be useful."
His eyes crinkled at the corners, not quite a smile but close. "You're more than useful, darlin'."
We sat at a large table in the adjoining room, surrounded by his men. Jack took the head of the table naturally, and I found myself directed to the seat at his left, a position that seemed to carry some significance based on the looks exchanged around us. Throughout the meal, Jack kept finding reasons to touch me, brushing a crumb from my cheek with his thumb, his hand resting briefly on the small of my back as he leaned past me to grab the salt, his knee pressing against mine under the table. Each contact sent sparks skittering across my skin, making it hard to focus on my food.
Across the room, I caught Wren watching us, her purple hair bright against the dim lighting. Her eyes tracked each interaction between me and Jack, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. When our gazes met, she raised an eyebrow and mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "told you so." Because the whole reason she’d hounded me into coming to that stupid party in the first Goddamned place was so I could actually see Jack in the flesh, so to speak. I hadn’t believed he could possibly be as hot in person as he was in pictures. Heat crept up my neck, and I looked away quickly, focusing intently on my plate. I’d been right. He wasn’t as hot in person. He was hotter.
After breakfast, as the men actually cleaned up and washed everything before filtering out to their various duties, Jack's hand closed around my wrist. The contrast between his calloused palm and my skin made my breath catch.
"Come with me," he said, his voice low and gruff.
He led me through the clubhouse, nodding at members as we passed but not stopping to chat. We turned down a quiet hallway, away from the main areas. Before I could ask where we were going, he gently backed me against the wall, resting hands against the smooth surface so his massive frame blocking out everything else and I was completely surrounded. By him.