Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
He watches me for a long time, like he’s waiting for me to say something else. When I don’t, he pushes away from the counter, grabs his jacket, and heads for the back door. “I gotta check in with Chief. Lock the door behind me.”
The screen creaks closed. I stare at the toast in the toaster, the charred edge crumbling onto the counter. My hands are shaking. Something is wrong, I know it, but I can’t force him to tell me what it is. I just have to let this one be for now. I have to believe that Travis is being honest, that he’s just protecting me from something. But I’ve spent too many nights lying awake with the taste of regret in my mouth, and I can feel it coming again—this time, bigger and darker, a tidal wave about to break.
I can almost hear it in the hush of the house. Everything is about to collapse, and I won’t be ready at all.
17
I POUR THE LAST AMBER drops of beer down my throat and set the bottle aside, head spinning.
“Alright, Mischief, that’s enough,” Chief grumbles from the porch.
I lean back against the railing, closing my eyes.
I am drunk.
Really fucking drunk.
It is the only thing I could think of doing to blur out today’s noise. I need silence, and I need to forget everything that’s happening. Before I can get too lippy with Chief, Travis’s arms wrap around me, warm and steady. “You good?”
I tilt my head up, eyes half-lidded, and grin. “I love you, rockstar.”
My words slur pleasantly.
He chuckles. “You love me, or you love the beer?”
I hiccup. “Both.”
Chief snorts. “Sounds like at this point you would also love the dirt, the ants, and the trees, too.”
I laugh. “Ants are fascinating!”
I push away from Travis, stumbling. He steadies me.
“Better grab her some water,” he tells Chief.
Grinning, I rush up the stairs and launch into Chief’s lap, and he nearly topples backward. “Holy hell,” he mutters. “You’re going to kill me someday.”
“Come on, Dad,” I tease. “Loosen up.”
“Mischief, give him a little kick!” Bill bellows from the yard.
Laughter rings out.
Chief shakes his head, but he’s smiling.
“I’m your favorite girl, right?” I wiggle free and stand, swaying.
“Right,” he grins.
“Ever?”
“Maybe not ever,” he chuckles.
I flip him the bird as Travis comes back and hands me a bottle of water. “Drink up, kid, or this will hurt tomorrow.”
I lean in, mock-sweet: “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Travis rolls his eyes; Chief laughs. “Pretty? Right now, you’re as pretty as a drunk sea lion.”
I burst into giggles. “Sea lions are chunky!”
He smirks. “Bit of chunk does wicked things to most men.”
I pretend to glare. “What did you dare say to me, Travis Phoenix?”
“You know you’ve got the best fuckin’ body I ever did see, kid.”
After that, the night is a blur. I pass out at some point, and wake up in my bed, curled up with Travis and a pounding headache. I toss and turn until the harsh morning light hits my face and I’m alone. The bed is still warm next to me, and I can hear voices out front. It takes me a moment to remember that today is the annual charity car wash. I groan and roll to my side, my mouth dry. I don’t know if I’ve got it in me to dress in a bikini and flag cars down, but I remember it’s for a good cause, so I force myself out of bed.
It takes me more than an hour to get myself out there, mostly because I am trying not to vomit. I shower, drink water, coffee, and then shoot back two Tylenol before getting into my bikini and tying my hair up. Hopefully, I look half decent. Reagan is meeting me this morning, because this is her favorite event of the year. I walk outside and into the main area, where the guys are getting everything ready. The good thing is, the town supports this, because they know it goes to kids in need.
I step into the main area, and every rider halts. Chief buries his face in his hands. Travis raises his brows, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“What the fuck is that you’re wearing?” Chief growls.
“A bikini,” I say, shaking my head in confusion.
“Hell no,” he barks. “Hell fucking no.”
Before I can argue, Reagan is running through the lot towards me, her bikini even smaller than mine. “Yay! This is the best day of the year.”
She reaches me and throws her arms around my neck, before pulling back and nodding with appreciation. “Yes, girl, yes.”
“No,” Chief snaps again. “Not happening.”
“Too late to change now, father. What’s wrong? Scared we might make us more cash than you lot?”
“Of course you will, you’re half naked.”
I blow him a kiss and we get to work.
Reagan and I launch into full stunt mode: sponging windshields, sliding across car hoods, little dances that have the crowd hooting. Chief glares at me the entire time; Travis too... until I corner him with a soaked sponge, wiping suds across his bare chest. He groans, leans me against the hood, kisses me so fiercely it stops time. Girls around us gasp. The bikers cheer and clap. And I know, oh, I know, that Chief is about to murder us.