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“I’d like to hear your story sometime if you’re willing to share.”

“Sometime, yes. I don’t think either of us is up for another heavy conversation tonight.”

“Yeah.” She sipped her wine. “I’ll share mine as well. I’d like to tell Scott first, though.” He deserved to know before anyone else and to be the one to tell her to leave if the risk to his club was too great.

Brooke released her hand and rested back in her chair with a nod. “As you should.” Then she smirked. “I know it’s premature of me to say this, but I like you a lot, Liv, and I think you’d make a fantastic permanent addition to our rag-tag family.”

Those words caused three simultaneous reactions in her.

The warmth of acceptance and friendship.

Excitement at the fantasy of sticking by Scott’s side as his woman.

And terror.

Because as much as she’d tried to convince herself their intense connection was fleeting and merely sexual, deep down, she never wanted it to end. Scott had come to mean so much to her in such a short period. And the idea of losing it scared her almost as much as Lance finding her.

“You know he’ll help you. The whole club will.”

Her laugh sounded harsh and bitter. “That’s part of my worry,” Olivia said. “At first, I didn’t say anything because he wanted nothing to do with me, and I didn’t know who I could trust. Now I know I can trust all of you, and things with Scott have… well, progressed.”

Brooke smirked and bobbed her eyebrows.

That had Olivia huffing out a laugh. “Thank you for trying to make me smile. If my ex finds me, it could be dangerous, not only for me but the whole club. I’m not sure I can lay that possibility at your feet. You’ve all become important to me. If anything were to happen—”

Brooke held up a hand. “Trust me when I tell you I understand. The club went through an embarrassing amount of drama because of me. Hell, Spec killed my ex-husband.”

Holy shit. Olivia gasped.

Nodding, Brooke said, “It was horrible. But you have to give them the information so they can decide for themselves, as a club. It’s just how it works around here. No one will think poorly of you. Everyone here has baggage. It’s why we’re drawn to the life. And if you’re one of us, you’re all the way one of us. Good, bad, ugly, and crazy exes.”

There it was again. The warm and cozy feeling of acceptance. Friendship. Family. When was the last time she’d felt it? When had she experienced such support, nonjudgment, and care? She couldn’t recall a time her father or fiancé had made her feel so safe and accepted. And the group of superficial ladies she’d called friends? Hell, they’d have dropped her the instant they caught her wearing shoes from Target.

“Thank you, Brooke. I wish I could make you understand how much your friendship means to me.”

“You don’t need to. I was in your shoes not long ago, so I completely understand. You have no idea how much it means to me to be in a position to pay it forward.”

Chuckling, Olivia said, “You really do like to rescue strays, don’t you?”

Brooke barked out a laugh. “Guilty, but you’re not a stray anymore. You have a family now.”

With that, they clinked their glasses and fell silent. They’d succeeded in taking her mind off the Handlers’ meeting with Lobo. Now that they were finished dissecting her life, the anxiety returned. Only now, it was coupled with worry over talking to Scott about why she’d come to Florida in the first place.

Hopefully, one day soon, this would be nothing more than an image in her rearview mirror. She could pursue veterinarian school. She could do anything she wanted. But where would she be then? Back in Chicago? Somewhere new? Florida?

And what were the chances she’d be at Scott’s side?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

IF TWO DECADES of special forces training had taught Scott anything, it was how to focus amid distractions and discomfort. He’d spent hours lying in cramped positions, waiting and watching with his entire attention devoted to one spot. He’d ignored painful injuries in the name of completing a mission. He’d fought through snow, heat, bug-infested jungles, and bone-dry deserts with a single-minded focus.

Complete the mission.

And then he started sleeping with Olivia, and in just a few days, his concentration had been shot to shit. He kissed her goodbye at Curly and Brooke’s place two hours ago and had spent most of the time since thinking about her. In church, Lock had to ask him the same question three times before it registered. On the ride to the meeting with Lobo, he’d nearly blown a red light while reliving the three times he’d made her come that morning.

And now? He still couldn’t get his head in the game, and he was about to accompany his prez into a potentially hostile meeting.

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