“What the fuck did you expect?” I grunt, picking up a half-empty water bottle and tossing it into the back of Jet’s head. “Fucker used the code for ‘get your fucking ass down here.’ ”
“Shit,” Chief says, probably not even realizing what Jet did. Chief is the serious one. The one who’s always first to put his hand up to take a double. He’s the one you go to when you’re up shit creek without a paddle.
As for Jet, the little bastard. He’s the one you’ve got to watch out for, especially now as he rubs the back of his head and looks over his shoulder, giving me the perfect ‘karma’s a bitch’ grin. I have to admit, I paged him last week. It was a complete accident, but one tiny little slip of my finger had him thinking the fucking world was about to implode. In reality, a little old grandma lost her kitty up a tree. He hasn’t exactly forgiven me for that just yet, and rightfully so.
Jet likes to have fun. He’s the guy who’s bound to hit you full force with the hose just to see how far you’d fly. Ax, though, he’s the black sheep. Loyal as hell, but outside of work, no one really knows him.
Me? I’m the guy who takes fucking charge and gets the job done. That’s how I got the name Bull, and since the day it was murmured within our ranks, it stuck.
Chief, he got his simply by being the sensible one. Jet, well … he had an unfortunate incident with jet fuel that we haven’t let him forget, and Ax, let’s just say he’s no stranger to swinging one of those fuckers around. It’s his tool of choice, even when the situation doesn’t call for one.
We’re a fucked-up bunch, but that’s how we like it. Not just anybody could live the life that we do. It's not easy, and sometimes it's a death-defying existence. But then there are times like this when your boys cockblock you from a woman so fucking pure you could kill them.
After ten minutes of the boys’ mindless chatter, I realize that nothing interesting is going down today, and I get up from the couch. “Where are you going?” Ax grunts.
“Yeah,” Jet pipes up. “It’s not like you’ve got anything better going on.”
“Hitting the weight room,” I tell them. Resisting the urge to throw him through the fucking window for disturbing the one time I actually did have something better going on. “Might as well get a workout in while I’m here.”
Chief gets up from the couch, grabbing the half-empty water bottle from beneath Jet’s chair. “Wait up,” he grumbles. “I could use a workout too.”
And just like that, the rest of my day is planned. So much for having a day off.
Sorry, Mom. Guess I’ll paint your porch next time.
CHAPTER 3
AMELIA
Why the hell can’t I get those grey, stormy eyes out of my mind? Duh, they were sexy as sin, that’s why. Pull your shit together, Amelia!
I stand in my kitchen, making the girls lunch and all I can think about is the handsome stranger who wanted to help me find a paint brush ... and I freaking sounded like a moron. I mean, who the hell does that? What twenty-six-year-old doesn’t know how to talk to a sexy stranger without making a fool of herself?
This bitch, that’s who.
God, I’m an idiot. Though, it shouldn’t matter. It’s not like anything was going to come from it. I’ve got way too much shit going on to worry about adding a man to the mix. Two kids, a douchebag ex, bills coming out of my ears, and a house that’s falling apart. Yeah, not exactly the kind of woman who has time on her hands. Besides, once a guy like that gets the slightest insight into my crazy life, he’ll be running for the hills.
He was perfect though. My god. The arms, the chest, the jawline … the thighs. Good lord, those thighs. He was a walking orgasm and when he winked … shit. I nearly came right there in the middle of Avalon Lake Hardware Store. I never would have lived it down.
A light giggle comes from out front and has my head instinctively pulling up. I see Ryan playing in the yard and I smile to myself. She loves it here, although it’s seen better days.
This used to be my dad’s place. It was the home I grew up in and the one