Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
She slips her hand inside her pocket and pulls out a small, round purple case. “Yup.”
“Is the graveside service going to be long?”
“Probably. There were a few additional requests.”
I glance at the back door again. “I should probably get out there…” I don’t want to leave her side, though.
She leans up on her tiptoes and beckons me closer to whisper, “They asked guests to wear black and gray.”
Wolf Knight colors.
I run my gaze over her prim dark gray suit and silver blouse. She’s even wearing gray, low-heeled pumps.
“Usually, I would as well,” she says. “We try to fit in if the family has a ‘theme’ or requests certain attire but it felt wrong when blue and gray are the colors of my man’s club.”
The possessive way she refers to me as “her man” travels straight to my balls. I’m going straight to hell, not even a pit stop in purgatory. Even when she’s pissed at me, she’s worried about something like my club’s colors?
“But I didn’t want to antagonize a client, either.” She lifts her hand, tucking her hair behind her ear, showing off sparkling blue stones set in shiny white gold. “So, I’m wearing my sapphire earrings.”
I’m going to bury my face between her legs tonight and lick her clit until I’m drowning in her.
As if she senses exactly where my thoughts ran off to, a devilish smile curls her lips. “And blue undergarments.”
Fuuuck me. “Why are you trying to get me hard at a funeral?” I whine like a horny teenager. If we were anywhere else, I’d push the collar of her blouse aside to confirm. “You’re a naughty girl.”
“Who said they were for you?” she tosses over her shoulder, already walking away.
“You know damn well they’re for me,” I call after her.
She doesn’t turn around, but I swear I catch the faintest shake of her shoulders—like she’s laughing.
I hope she keeps that energy for our conversation later.
I hang back a second, then shove my hands in my pockets and head outside.
Rock and Teller are waiting on one end of the porch.
“Everything good?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Rock nods and steps away from the railing. “Girls are in the car out front. We’re just waitin’ up here until they sort out some stuff.”
I glance at the parking lot. Wrath and Dex are talking to Ulfric and another guy with a Wolf Knights cut. Mr. Cedarwood’s hovering near the trike, inspecting the casket’s placement. Margot’s nowhere in sight.
Finally, Wrath signals he’s ready for us.
The three of us clomp down the stairs.
The sky’s overcast and chilly.
I squint up at the clouds. “As long as it doesn’t rain, it’s a good day to ride.”
Rock nods, distracted, his mind clearly somewhere else.
Wrath and Dex catch up to us.
“All good?” I ask Dex.
“Yeah, we offered to help close off one of the roads, but Mr. Cedarwood said it’s handled.”
“So, we’re just following the pack?”
“Pretty much.”
“All right, brother.” I tap my knuckles against Dex’s.
I swing my leg over my bike and settle into the seat. The lot’s so full I can barely make out the trike hearse or the black car behind it.
Margot’s up there somewhere. Probably in the car with Whisper’s daughter. Some of the Wolf Knights’ ol’ ladies are on the backs of bikes. Hell, a small group of women are riding solo.
That’ll never be Margot.
It doesn’t matter. Charlotte and Hope are driving to the cemetery, and so are some of the other ol’ ladies. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll never try to talk her into something that scares her so much, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about having her at my back.
I pull on my helmet and fire up the engine about the same time everyone else does. The sudden, unified rumble drowns out my thoughts, but not the ache in my chest.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Margot
The silence inside the house feels heavier than it did this morning. The people my father hired to clean downstairs after the mourners left are gone but the sharp citrus scent of whatever cleanser they used still lingers in the air. After having so many people in and out of the house today, the quiet is a relief.
It’s just my father, Paul, and me now, meeting in Dad’s office to recap the day’s events.
“Thank you, Margot.” My father drops his lean frame into the chair behind his desk and lets out a heavy sigh. “You did an excellent job with all the biker details.”
That’s probably the most enthusiastic praise my father’s ever given me.
“And thank you for bringing in and assisting April,” he adds. “She was a big help today.”
“I didn’t need to give her that much assistance,” I say, keeping my tone even. “She’s been doing this as long as I have. She likes our smaller, more personal setting.”
“She definitely has the personality for it.” Paul chuckles and takes a seat on the couch next to me. “She’s the perfect mix of bubbly and somber.”