BRANDON’S POV”If you had stayed out of my business that day, I wouldn’t have torn your ear in half.”
”It’s been years, Bran.
Move on, just as I have.
Nonna said you are now one of the top geologists in the states.
You’ve done well for yourself.
You’ve achieved your dreams…”
”Shut up,” I cut her off sharply, rage surging.
“You know nothing about my dreams.”
”Oh yes I do.” She retorts.
I blink a few times as she presses on.
“I know you’re always obsessed with rocks, stones, and crystals.
Your constant curiosity about the earth — you’ve always loved digging and exploring.
You enjoy maps and landscapes.
It’s always been there, Bran.
I’ve always known it.”
Her eyes shift to mine, holding me, I almost melt under her scrutiny.
Dammit, Brandon, get your shit together!
“Nonna showed me your portfolio, Bran.
You’ve achieved a lot at such a young age.
Why throw everything away to become a biker?”
A dark smirk tugs at the corners of my lips.
“That’s my business, not yours,” I snap.
“If being a biker is so bad, why are you trying to fake being the wife of one?” I shoot back.
“I was forced into it,” she says, her voice dropping.
“You think if I had a choice I would have chosen this life?
I’m not as stupid as Brandon Harrington.
I’m smart enough to know what life is safer and better for me.”
Her words land like a slap across my cheeks.
I bite down on my bottom lip to hold in the pain.
“If I have a chance to be one of the top geologists in the state, why would I come back to be a biker where I could wake up one day and they shoot me in the middle of negotiating a deal?” Her eyes narrow, her expression hardening.
“And it’s Mrs.
Harrington now, not Ashley.
Accord me some respect.
I’m your brother’s wife.”
With that she grabs her fruit salad from the fridge and walks past me.
I watch her go, my hand already reaching out as if to yank her back but it just hovers. New chapters come out on g.com first.
ASHLEY’S POV
I bolt straight to my room.
I don’t trust Brandon,He still hates me from high school for ramming off his ear.
It’s been years, I wish he’d just move on and stop trying to get even.
Gosh, I hate that I have to be wary of him every time.
He’s one of the biggest geologists in the state and all he cares about is being a fucking biker!
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’d throw away such a perfect, peaceful life for this chaotic one.
Silly asshole!
I settle onto the couch and eat my dinner slowly,while thinking about how far my life has changed in just a couple of days.
I can’t really say it’s been a good change — everyone seems out for my life since I got here.
Later that night, after eating, I doze off.
At exactly seven in the morning I wake up.
I tidy my plate and race downstairs to drop it off.
I intend to ask Nonna to bring my breakfast upstairs so I won’t have to see Warrick’s mother and his sisters.
The last ounce of strength I have is for myself and for surviving Bran and Matt — the two people who want to see me dead so badly.
Seconds later I get to the kitchen and the first person my eyes meet is Ripper.
I pause, my gaze lingering on him for a moment before I step inside.
He’s standing at the counter, his back to me, shoulders broad beneath a plain black tee and he doesn’t have his jacket on yet.
He’s in front of the coffee maker, a mug in his hand.
My lips curl up into a smile and my heart does that traitorous little flip.
“Good morning, Ash…” Nonna’s voice slices through the silence, grabbing my attention.
“Hope you had a great night?” she asks and I nod.
“Yes I did, Nonna.
What about you?”
She beams.
“Fantastic, dear.”
I turn to Ripper, taking slow steps forward.
“Good morning, Rip…”
”Morning,” he says, voice still rough with sleep.
He doesn’t spare me a glance.
That isn’t a problem, at least he responds. Get faster updates on g.com.
I don’t move for a few seconds.
I stare at him without blinking, subtly admiring how he moves and how he makes his coffee.
So sexy.
There is something about Ripper I can’t seem to understand.
There seems to be a magnetic pull toward him each time I see him.
A few minutes later he’s done making the coffee.
His gaze holds mine for a moment before dropping to the mug in his hand.
He places it in front of me.
I shake my head.
“No, don’t worry… I don’t—”
”Take it.” He cuts me off, voice rough around the edges.
“You need it to focus.
You’ll be going to the club today.”
I step away.
He steps closer, the space between us shrinking as he holds the mug out.
“It’s just coffee, Ash.
Take it and get ready for the day.”
I hesitate.
Even if I don’t normally like coffee, his voice is enough to convince me.
Slowly I take the mug, our fingers brushing warmly.
For a moment the kitchen feels smaller as our eyes lock.
It feels like the rest of the world has faded.
“You’ll be introduced to the church today,” he says, reaching for his mug.
Heat creeps up my neck.
“What’s church?”
His eyes snap toward me, disbelief filling them.
I quickly lift the mug to my lips, using it as an excuse to look away.
One taste of the coffee tells me everything—it is bitter, black, and strong.
Exactly why I hate it.
But I drink it anyway.
It is from Ripper.
Anything to impress him.