Claimed By The Devil Read online Joanna Blake (Devil’s Riders #8)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Devil's Riders Series by Joanna Blake
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
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“Grab some Malibu. I need to make a round of girly drinks.”

“I’ll cut some fresh fruit,” I said, sliding him a bottle. We always went out of our way to make perfect drinks for the inner crew girls.

“You the man,” he said, already showing off for the girls leaning provocatively at the bar. Drake thinks he is Tom Cruise in Cocktail, I thought with an eye roll. Donnie, meanwhile, was at the other end, serving up drinks to the inner crew. It was a full house tonight. Almost like one of our family barbecues.

As much as I’d resisted settling down, I saw the appeal. It was nice feeling like a part of something bigger than myself. Not just the club. I was part of a family. The guys were my brothers and the girls were my sisters. And nothing made me smile wider than hearing one of the kids call me ‘Uncle Nick’.

You are getting older, man.

I grimaced at the thought. I was getting older and so was my horse. It had been years since the scare with his hoof, but he was showing signs of age. I decided to get up extra early in the morning to see Hendrix. I had a bag of tasty Granny Smith apples at home with his name on them.

If I went early enough, I could still get to work on time. I had a couple of jobs, including working construction with Mac and some of the guys, tending bar, and my own secret goals and ambitions. I liked building stuff. I dreamed about fixing up my old family farm once I bought it back from the bank. I’d fix it up from the bottom up. I’d even make all the furniture.

One day at a time, Nick, I reminded myself. Keep saving.

I rolled up my sleeves and got back to work.

Chapter Two

Melissa

"There you go, Bluebell. All dressed up with no place to go. Kind of like me."

I sighed, dropping the brush in my hand into a bucket. It was true. Even if I had a pretty dress to put on, I wouldn't have anyplace to wear it these days. Taking care of my mom and the stables took all my time, and then some. The horses that lived here were my only friends. Ever since my father died and mom got sick, the weight of keeping this place afloat had fallen on my shoulders.

This place, Honeycutt Stables, was all we had.

Most girls my age were out and about having a great time. Or at least trying to. I still kept in touch with some of my friends from high school and competitive riding, but most of them had gone to college. They were just getting to bed at five AM, not getting up to do their morning chores.

Never mind that I hadn’t exactly been a social butterfly in high school or during my two years at college. It wasn’t as if I had a massive group of friends or participated in sports or school plays. Horseback riding was kind of a solo sport.

So yeah, my social life was pretty damn dry.

It didn’t matter, though. I doubted I could be distracted from the worry over my mom and the grief we were both still dealing with. I’d dropped out of college just a month before to be here for her.

I couldn’t let her lose the stables while she fought for her life. I wouldn’t let her do this alone. Any of it.

No matter what happened to me in the meantime. It just didn’t even matter. She was worth it. This place was worth it.

She’d transferred the house and stables to my name when she realized that her medical bills were going to be insurmountable. But that didn’t mean we were out of the woods. The place had been steadily losing money for years, and my father hadn’t had life insurance. It was hard to imagine being able to go back to school or get my degree when I was needed back at home.

So yeah, not having a pretty dress or somewhere to wear it was the least of my problems.

Still, a girl had to dream . . .

I hustled to finish my first round of chores before Mom woke up. I tried to bring her breakfast in bed every morning. I wasn't just doing it to be sweet. I was more than a little bit terrified that she was going to fall getting out of bed trying to get something for herself. She’d gotten so weak. Plus, it was one of the nicest times of day for us to sit together.

Usually, the pain wasn't as bad in the morning, for some reason. For just a little while, every morning, it was almost like old times. It was almost like I had my mother back. Like she wasn't slowly fading away.



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