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I raised my hand over my head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Missy.” Missy had been my best friend for almost twenty years. She had moved to Adams when we were both ten and had become one of my close friends that summer.
“You want wine or hard booze?” she asked.
I needed a damn tranquilizer if what she had told me was true. “Bring the Southern,” I replied.
“Woo, wee,” Missy chuckled. “This is going to be a fun night.”
I rolled my eyes and set my basket on the check-out counter. “You wouldn’t by chance have a bottle of booze behind the counter, would you, Jack?” I blew my hair out of my face and sighed.
“Uh, well, I think my dad might have a bottle hidden in his office,” Jack stammered. “I could see if I could get you a glass.”
Oh, sweet Jack. He was just a little too naïve for his good.
I nodded to the basket. “I think I can make it home without a glass. Thank you, though.”
Jack looked visibly relieved.
Five minutes later, I was sitting behind the steering wheel of my truck and closed my eyes.
Wilder Presley was back in town.
Twelve years ago, I had watched that man drive out of my life with not so much as a backward glance. He had broken my heart that day, and he hadn’t even known it.
Wilder Presley was back, and so were all those feelings I thought I had buried.
No amount of Southern was going to make this any easier.
*
Check out the First Chapter of
Drop a Gear and Disappear
Chapter One
Quinn
A lady in the streets and a freak in the bed…
“Come with me, baby.”
Kimber rolled into my side. “I’ll pass.”
I looked down at her naked body and ran my fingers over her smooth, flawless skin. “You’re gonna have to come there one day.”
“But today is not that day, Quinn.”
“It’s Gear, baby.”
She snorted and tipped her head back to look at me. “Okay, Quinn.”
I fucking hated my name, yet Kimber insisted on calling me it even though I finally got my road name from the Rolling Devils. “You gotta learn to tolerate the club, baby. I know you don’t like it, but you gotta not hate it.”
“Mmhmm,” she hummed under her breath and laid her head back on my shoulder. Her hand slid across the expanse of my chest, and her fingers trailed over the tattoo of an eagle holding a skull. “But you don’t need to leave just yet,” she whispered.
“Soon.”
“Maybe I need to remind you what will be waiting for you while you’re fetching beers for all of your club buddies.”
