Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Dima did look pissed that he was there.
Milena looked nervous.
A man that wanted to become a prospect approached her, giving his charming smile that usually worked on everyone in the damn world.
But not fucking this one.
Before I could think about what I was going to say, the words just came out.
“Stay away from my wife!” I snarled to the young kid with aspirations of joining our club.
He wouldn’t make it.
Not just anyone off the street could.
Then I heard it.
The most magical goddamn sound in the world.
A tinkling laugh.
I looked up to find Milena staring at me, a smile on her face.
“What the fuck do you mean by wife?” Dima asked, starting to push Milena behind him.
I walked up to Milena, pushing her brother out of the way as she said, “It’s a joke, Dee-dee. Learn to take it.”
“I don’t like when people joke about taking my sister away from me,” Dima, a.k.a. ‘Dee-Dee,’ grumbled.
I offered him my hand and said, “I’ll make sure she comes to visit often.”
The laugh sounded again, and both Dima and I shared a look. His said “the only reason I’m allowing this is because you’re making her laugh and she needs to laugh right now.” Mine said, “I don’t care what you think, I’d do anything to make her laugh. I’ve claimed that laugh as my own.”
Both of us acknowledged the other’s thoughts, and we turned to survey the woman behind our motivation.
“I see you found the secret clubhouse,” I mused, studying her.
She looked better.
Well rested.
“Shasha can find anything that he wants,” she admitted. “Plus, he has a really good computer guy that is a genius at finding things that are hidden.”
“He does,” Apollo called from somewhere behind us. “His name is Lev. He’s got an IQ score that rivals mine. He’s been at it less time than me, which is why I’m still better. But I imagine if we give it a few more years, he’ll surpass even me. He has the driving force of anger behind him and has something to prove.”
Both Dima and Milena turned to study Apollo.
Apollo was an attractive man, even me, secure in my heterosexuality, could admit that he was something to look at.
Which had me feeling a jealousy that I shouldn’t be.
I moved so that my body was blocking her view anyway.
Her eyes traveled up the length of my chest before stopping on my lips for a long moment, which had my dick jerking in my pants, before continuing up to my eyes.
“Can I have a beer?”
She could have my whole goddamn soul if she wanted it.
“Absolutely,” I said. “But it’s hot…”
She smiled. “I don’t mind hot beer.”
I caught her hand and led her deeper into the clubhouse, introducing her to my club brothers as I moved.
I stopped at Chevy, however, and said, “This is my brother, Chevy.”
Milena studied my brother, who was fast asleep on the couch.
“He looks just like you and Copper,” she said. “Why is he sleeping? How is he sleeping?”
“Chevy works at the hospital,” I said. “On the overnight shift. It pays a whack, he only has to work four days a week, and it exhausts him, so he doesn’t have to think about his issues.”
A brown eye became visible as my brother’s eyes opened a slit. “Why are you standing over me?”
“Because you’re sleeping in the middle of a party,” Milena’s sweet voice replied.
God, she was beautiful.
His eyes opened farther. “What time is it?”
“Almost seven o’clock,” she answered without missing a beat.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I have to go to work in fifteen.”
Chevy sat up and stretched his arms over his head.
He was studying Milena at the same time she was studying him.
Milena was right.
We all looked alike. Even Keely looked like us, and she was most definitely a girl.
My mom’s genes persevered in all of us, which was a good thing, because no one wanted to look like their sex offender father.
“You have purple eyes,” Chevy noticed.
“I have hazel-blue eyes that sometimes resemble purple.” She shrugged.
“Those are fuckin’ purple,” he disagreed. “Copper’s the one with colorblindness. I can most definitely tell my colors apart.”
Milena’s lips twitched. “Is that right?”
“That’s right.” He stood up, standing to his full height, which was just a hair shorter than my six-foot-three. “I hate to go, but if I don’t, I don’t get overtime, and I need overtime to pay for my brother’s house.”
Then he was gone, leaving Milena with a questioning look on her face. “What?”
I led her to the bar, got her a semi-cold beer, and explained.
“When my brother went to prison, the three remaining siblings decided that twenty-five percent of our paychecks would go into a savings account that would help set Copper up when he got out,” I explained. “When he gets out, he’ll have a whack in a 401K for him, as well as enough money in a high-yield savings account that’ll more than pay for any house he wants to build on the lake.”