Chapter One
Corrie
I’m not really sure how I let my roommate and best friend, Kirsten, talk me into going out with her and her boyfriend, Porter, tonight. I mean, her guy is hawt in a leather-clad way, but they want to go to the bar that his club, the Black Tuxedos MC, owns and well, I’m just not sure what to expect!
At twenty-five, it’s safe to say that I’m likely the queen of first dates. Truly. The one and only long-term boyfriend I had scared me off men and commitment. I mean, he wasn’t a jerk and life was good until it wasn’t. I still bear the scars from that time and that has led me to keep men at arm’s length. But Porter assured me that their club was ‘safe’ and a lot of his ‘Brothers’ would be there to keep it that way, so what did I have to lose? A few hours with my E-reader?
As I stared at my closet wondering exactly what to wear, Kirsten ran into my room and immediately went to a silky sweater dress that I had hanging. “This will totally complement your eyes, my friend!” she cried.
“Um, I’m not exactly looking for anyone, remember? Just because you are in serious like and happy doesn’t mean that I’m not perfectly content with Mr. Amazon and the books he brings me,” I reminded her.
“Aw, c’mon Corrie! I’m telling you, the men Porter hangs with are all really nice. There are a few horndogs of course, but he has promised me that he’ll keep them away,” she answered.
“Okay, okay. Let’s get this over and done with, shall we?” I grumbled as I snagged the dress and matching boots and started dressing.
***
Reese
He walked into the bar and mentally groaned. Seemed like everyone had the same idea tonight – come in and have a few drinks. As he headed over to grab a drink, he saw Porter, sitting near the back with his latest fling, Kirsten. Then again, they had been together for quite some time now so perhaps it was more than a fling. Eh, he didn’t care as long as the man was happy. Relationships and commitment were not his thing – hit it and quit it was his motto, something he knew didn’t make his mom happy, but she’d get over it eventually.
Grabbing two bottles of beer, he headed back to Porter’s table, nodding to some of the other Brothers who were around. Because the club owned the bar, they tended to congregate here somewhat regularly, so he resigned himself to another Friday night hanging with the brethren.
“Hey man, what’s up?” he said to Porter, placing one of the beers in front of him.
“Not much. Just out with Kirsten and her girl, throwing a few back.”
Her girl? Funny, he hadn’t noticed anyone else sitting at the booth when he slid in.
“Ah, here she comes now,” Kirsten said.
He turned and was glad he was sitting down. Because walking toward him was a woman who had everything going for her in spades – she wasn’t tall, maybe 5’5” or 5’6” but he knew he would tower over her, and she had curves that had his hands clenching at his sides. And that hair? Holy hell, he wasn’t sure what color to call it, he just knew it started out blonde, had caramel running through it and ended with flaming red tips. Dragging his eyes back up her body, he saw clear blue eyes and a beautiful set of lips. Fuck. She wasn’t the hit it and quit it type. No way, no how. She screamed of houses and babies and SUVs. And when she reached the table and he caught a whiff of the subtle floral scent she was wearing, he knew, just knew, he was done for.
“Reese, this is Corrie. Corrie, my Brother, Reese,” Porter said.
“Hi, how are you?” she said to the Adonis sitting there staring at her.
“Hey,” he finally said before he got out to let her slide in and across from her friend.
As the girls started talking, Reese listened. Seemed she was a vet tech at the local animal clinic and had taken in a few animals to foster See his mind said she’s definitely not your type.
“Your landlord allows that?” he asked her, entering the conversation.
“Seeing as I’m the landlord, yes,” she said, glancing up at him.
Animals, huh? “I’m a tattoo artist at the club’s tattoo parlor,” he told her.
She looked at him and could see bits of color coming from under his t-shirt. Damn, if she didn’t hate the thought of being touched so much now, she would love to trace each and every one of those tattoos. Cue the blush.
She’s blushing. Wonder why? Out loud, he said, “You have any? Tattoos that is.”
“Uh…no,” she finally stammered out. “I have one I’ve been thinking about but haven’t worked up the nerve to get it done yet.”
Man, I’d love to ink her. There were a lot of things I’d like to do to her.
“Well, you ever decide to pop that cherry, let me know and I’ll hook you up,” he said.
“Okay,” she told him.
As she looked around the room, her face suddenly got pale and she looked at Kirsten and said, “I have to go. Now.”
Kirsten looked at her and then looked around the bar, finally locking eyes with Corrie’s ex, Jefferson Maxwell. Leaning over, she said, “I thought he was still locked up?”
“He was supposed to be. I have to get out of here,” Corrie replied, gathering her purse and keys. “Can…can you and Porter walk me out to my car?”
“Yeah, sure. You’re going straight home, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get you out of here.”
Turning to Reese, she said, “It was nice to meet you, Reese, but I need to leave.”
Not having a clue what had happened, he slid out of the booth and decided he would walk with them to her car. Putting his hand on the small of her back, he felt her recoil away before she apologized, saying, “I’m sorry, I don’t like to be touched.”
That’s a crying shame. “No worries. Let’s get you out of here, okay?”
***
Finally home, Corrie hurried into the house, making sure she locked the door and armed the alarm system. Her panic attack in near full bloom, she ran into her room and changed into her at-home lounging clothes before she crawled into the corner of the closet, baseball bat in one hand and phone in the other. As her mind started to shut down, she flashed back to before and the tears began to fall as she started shaking.
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