Highway Don’t Care Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Freebirds #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Funny, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Freebirds Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 105398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
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Hoochie let out a menacing growl, and started attacking Gabe’s feet as soon as he stepped over the threshold. Gabe came to a halt. He just looked down at his feet while Hoochie latched onto Gabe’s boots, clawing and scratching like his life depended on it. It only lasted about thirty seconds or so before Hoochie got tired, and then fell to his side panting.

Hoochie was my thirty-five pound monster of a house cat. I loved every delectable roll on his cute little chubby body.

Jack was chuckling behind us as we both watched Hoochie lay on his side. He decided that this was as good as place as any and closed his eyes for some much-needed rest.

“This is not a house cat, this is an obese bobcat.” Gabe said to me.

“Don’t call my baby fat, he’s a very sensitive boy.” I said to Gabe as I scooped Hoochie up in my arms.

My back decided to make itself known and I bit back a moan. I wasn’t going to let them see me cry. Crying is for babies and wieners. However, Gabe saw everything, took the cat out of my arms, and continued inside for the search of the underwear drawer.

“So, how are you doing these days Jacky boy?” I asked.

“I’m doing better. One day at a time I guess.” He answered.

Jack’s father passed away a little over a year ago, and he was still taking it hard. They were as close as father and son could be. They acted more like best friends rather than father and son from what I’d heard. Jack seemed to go into a depression, and only existed. Nevertheless, slowly with the help of friends, he was returning to some semblance of his old self. I didn’t know his old self, but I could definitely see him getting better as each day passed. I knew how it felt to lose a parent, and I even listened a time or two as he spoke so highly of his father. I gave him some Ember wisdom as well. I told him that the pain never fades; it just becomes more bearable over time.

“How is the new bike coming?” I asked him.

“It’s coming along really well. I just installed the gas tank, so it’s almost ready for the paint to be applied.” He said.

Jack was working on a custom bike honoring Dougie. All of the members of Free have put a little something into this bike. Sam designed it, James installed the mechanical and electrical components, Jack the body, Max the chrome and wheels, and finally Gabe will finish with the paint job. It was a wonderful team project for them to work on, trying to capture Dougie’s essence in bike form. The proceeds are to be donated to Dougie’s daughter for her college fund. The rally is in Tulsa in a few months, and the boys are scrambling to get everything finished in time.

This was a community effort as well. Local businesses donated parts and money to fund the project. The community outreach was simply amazing. When the locals realized they had a Soldier’s daughter in need, they threw themselves lock, stock, and barrel into the project, helping any way they could. The auto-parts store Cheyenne and I used to work at donated all the parts. A lawyer that has been in business for a little over thirty years set up all the legal work; the community bank set up a trust for the money to be donated into once the auction happened. It was an amazing thing to see so many helping a fallen soldier’s family.

“Clear.” Gabe said gruffly.

Gabe still had Hoochie asleep in his arms, and I smiled inwardly. He was totally gone already. No one could resist my kitty. Max, the king of cat haters, even liked him. That was saying something since he used to go out of his way to torture our cats that we had growing up.

I walked to my bedroom and grabbed the duffel bag that was in the back of my closet. I started stuffing it with underwear, bras, shirts, shorts, and flip-flops. I wasn’t a big fan of dressing up, so I was set to go in little time at all.

I made sure to grab my old rabbit that I slept with every night. It definitely had seen better days, but it didn’t stop me from cuddling him every night as I fell asleep. Poodle (the rabbit) was the very reason that Cheyenne and I had become best friends. We were at a young age when we discovered that we slept with our stuffed animals every night, and we have been best friends ever since.

I left the bag on the bed and walked back out to the living room. Gabe and Jack were busy studying my picture collection. I was a picture hoarder. Photos covered three quarters of my living room wall. I had pictures of absolutely everything, birthdays, Christmases, weddings, and even one at a funeral. Gabe was stuck in front of one in particular and I blushed scarlet red.

The picture was of Gabe on his death machine. He looked badass with his black leather vest, black helmet, black jeans, black Oakley sunglasses, and the big black Harley Davidson. The motorcycle is a “Fat Bob” and I giggled to myself every time I thought about its name. I’d snapped the photo when he was riding out of Free, and then immediately took it to Walgreen’s and had it blown up. Then I bought a beautiful black frame, and then plonked it down right in the middle of my mantel so I could see it every time I walked in the door. I did too. I admired it, drooled over it, and even kissed it once. Okay, maybe it was twice, but who’s counting?

Gabe turned to me with a grin when he noticed I was in the room. He took in my blush with a quick look, and then his smile got wider. Damn. There were those dimples.

“When did you take this?” he asked me.



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