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“Honey, we have more money than you could imagine,” Shooter retorted.

“Oh,” Juliette whispered.

“Shit, at least you know she’s not in for the payoff.” Moose nudged Shooter.

He snickered. “Ain’t that the truth? You want to look at the second space?”

“Yeah. But I think I’m already sold.” Juliette shrugged.

The engaged couple moved together, and Moose marveled at the changes in his brother. The hard edges had softened, at least around the librarian. If he saw himself with Joey, would it look the same? The thought frightened him. The drive over to the outdoor gardens gave him just enough time to scramble his head-space. He’d come to expect Joey to be around. How had one night of mind-blowing sex graduated to a semi-relationship? The thought made him want to get on his bike and drive until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Being beholden to someone else wasn’t on his agenda. He’d given up enough of his life taking care of a female. Bitterness rose in his throat while he only half listened to the chatter going on around him.

This time is different. Joey doesn’t need to be taken care of…yet. His mental battle raged with no clear winner. Life is a game of risk…just a question of what he was willing to do to keep what he had. The ultimate situation pissed him off. He had left Canada and joined the Lords she could do what he wanted. Now he felt like he’d come full circle.

By the time they reached the clubhouse, his anger had hit a boiling point.

“Thanks for coming with us.” Shooter broke into his thoughts.

“Anytime, bro. As long as you don’t drag me through the mall all day, I’m your man,” Moose joked. They clasped hands, and he turned on his heel, grateful to leave the wedding and his muddled situation with Joey behind. He walked inside and parked himself at a seat at the end of the bar.

“Where’s your shadow?” a voice said.

Moose gazed up and tensed as the Prez, Tiny, leaned against the bar.

“Still talking wedding crap with Shooter’s old lady, or on her way home.”

Tiny nodded. “It’s not my practice to get into people’s business. But you need to decide what you’re doing with her and put the word out. The whores are going to start thinking they can do whatever they want soon, otherwise.”

“She’s not some whore.” Moose scowled.

Tiny held up his hand. “No disrespect meant, but you’ve been close-mouthed about it and holed up in the room. The chatter is spreading. I like to put an end to shit before it pops off and things get out control. You know how I like to run my ship.”

Moose nodded. “I know—she’s different, but I’m not in the market for an old lady.”

Tiny nodded. “There are other steps between that.”

“Well, she’s not a sweet butt. I’d crack someone’s jaw.”

“So a sweetheart?” Tiny asked.

Moose swirled the concept around in his head. Exclusively dating, but not married status. “Yeah, I can live with that.”

“Spread the word tonight. What’s between the two of you is your business. Don’t make me have to step in again.” Tiny stared him down.

“I feel you.”

“Good.” Tiny tapped the bar with his knuckles and walked off.

“Trouble in paradise?” Red asked. “You know you’d never have that problem with me.”

“I don’t do sloppy fifths and sixths,” Moose retorted.

She narrowed her eyes and huffed.

“We have a problem?”

Red shut her mouth and shook her head.

These whores thought if they lay on their back with enough of them, eventually they’d luck up and become an old lady. That wasn’t how it went. No one wanted someone the whole club had ridden like a train, and Red’s bitchy attitude was toxic. An uppity, vindictive bitch could fuck your shit up before you knew what was going on. “Good. I want a shot of whiskey straight up. Matter of fact…just give me the whole damn bottle.”


Tags: Shyla Colt Lords of Mayhem Romance