Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,19
like I should walk around, handing out condoms and ten-dollar bills to the barely legal boys staring at their first pair of fake tits.
“Excuse me?”
I turn to see who’d spoken, and take in the tall, slender woman in front of me. Her hair is pulled into a tight little knot at the back of her head, and her glasses are resting on the tip of her nose. She’s wearing a business suit, the kind you see in movies with the sport coat and matching skirt. She looks like a librarian, but the girl is stacked, and that’s when I realize just what kind of librarian she is.
“Halle-fucking-lujah!” I roar, looking around at my boys. “I thought you guys had gotten me something stupid, like a new helmet or a saddlebag for my ride, but this….” I look the librarian up and down with insurmountable approval. “Fucking hell. Happy birthday to me!”
The woman’s eyes go wide as she takes a step back. “I beg your pardon?”
“Do you just do the show, or do you provide the after-party too?” I reach for her, wanting to feel her on my lap.
“Judge,” GP blurts out from behind me.
“I don’t provide any show, sir,” she snaps back, her face twisted in anger. “And I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”
Laughing, I take another swig of my beer. “I’m insinuating that I can’t wait for you to take off that shirt and show me them gorgeous titties.”
“Judge!” GP hollers, but it’s too late.
The librarian’s hand comes up and slaps the side of my face, hard enough to send my chair sideways.
“I will not be spoken to like that. My name is Grace Halfpenny, and I’m a caseworker for Child Protective Services. I’m looking for a man named Eugene Grant.”
Oh shit. I sit up straight in my seat and place the beer gently down on the table. “I’m Eugene.”
I ignore the snickers from the guys around the table as Ms. Halfpenny huffs and pulls a stack of papers out of her briefcase, plopping them onto the table in front of me. “Mr. Grant, it has come to my attention that you’ve been caring for a Kevin and Natalie Tucker without legal right to do so. Those children are wards of the state.”
Realization washes over me that this is the Grace that was at the school. I may have offended her, but I don’t like her tone when it comes to those kids. “Those kids are orphans who had nowhere to go. They’ve had a fucked-up few years, and the last thing they needed was to be separated and shoved into some goddamn foster home.”
“Mr. Grant, you don’t have the right to make that call.”
I stand and move closer, using my size to intimidate her. “I will make whatever call I see fit. Those kids are happy with me, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”
Her nostrils flare, and I have to remind myself that she’s a total bitch, because the look of her pissed off is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“You haven’t heard the last of me, Mr. Grant.” Turning on her heel, she marches toward the door.
“I liked you better when you were a stripper!” I call out to her back, just trying to piss her off now.
It works. I smirk when my words stop her short, but she doesn’t give me the satisfaction of seeing her sweat. Instead, she keeps walking, straight out the door, and hopefully out of my life for good.
Yeah, right.
“Wait,” Twat Knot says with a laugh, clearly not getting the brevity of what has just happened. “Your name is Eugene?”
A nod at Karma shuts him up as he fends off yet another smack to the back of the head.
Grace
“There she is.” Aaron smiles as the teenage hostess leads me to the table in the corner of the little Italian bistro we both love. His dark hair is slicked back, a stark contrast against his crisp white button-up shirt and dark trousers. The owner, Piero, steps aside as Aaron pushes up from his seat and pulls out my chair for me. I settle into it, placing my bag next to my feet on the floor.
“Lei è bellissima.” Piero smiles, clapping his weathered hand onto Aaron’s shoulder as a server approaches with a large bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand.
“Are we celebrating something?” I ask Aaron as the server pours us each a glass.
“A night with you is always a celebration, considering how many times you’ve cancelled on me