Page 148 of Thrust & Throttle


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“I was kind of hoping Duke would propose when he was ready. WhenIwas ready. Not because of…”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Okay.” Savage roped me into a hug and then kissed the top of my head. “Sorry I thought you were a cheating slut.”

I chuckled. “Apology accepted.”

“You mean it?”

“Yeah. I love that you have Duke’s back.”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you though. That wasn’t okay. Even if I was trying to protect my boy.”

I gave him another squeeze and then let him go. “It’s fine. Really. I’m not mad.”

“You’re a good sport,” he said.

“I have to be. To put up with you,” I teased.

Chapter31

“Where the fuck is my phone?”I muttered. I crouched down to riffle through my purse but came up empty handed. I dumped everything out of it, wondering if my cell had gotten lost in the abyss, but no luck.

I grabbed my keys and went to look in the car, pondering if my phone had fallen out of my bag and slid underneath the seat.

It wasn’t there.

Had I left it at O’Reilly’s?

I thought back, wondering when the last time I had it was. But the afternoon had been kind of hazy.

With a sigh, I went back inside and closed the door. At least I had my keys and wallet.

I twirled up my damp hair, got onto my laptop and googledbest ways for a woman to propose.

I felt like an idiot.

How was I supposed to propose to a dude?

Flowers? No.

Candles? Not a chance.

Lingerie?Definitely.

Duke loved barbecue and riding his motorcycle. He loved the outdoors and getting his hands dirty. He was a self-made man who was fiercely loyal to his club and those he considered family.

And I loved him so much it hurt, and all I wanted to do was make him feel special. Instead, I was about to come to him and ask him for something I needed, making it more about me than him.

But it was more than that.

I loved him, and we were already heading down the path of spending our lives together. I wasn’t only coming to him with something I needed, I was coming to him with real love.

He would be there for me no matter what, that much I knew.

I lost track of time as I thought about the kind of man he was and what he was willing to do for me, and I was startled when I heard the sound of a key in the lock. Waverly came in, her red hair in a messy bun. She slung her bag onto the couch and held a to-go container in the other.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” she said in way of greeting.

“I lost it,” I said.

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