Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) by Hot Tree Editing, Chiah Wilder

she’d tried to initiate lovemaking, and she’d believed him, like a fool. Then she’d found out that he’d been banging his secretary, and she’d seen red. Knowing that he’d ignored his wife and lavished his attention and love on someone else had gnawed at her. As she recalled the shock, the anger, and the hurt his betrayal had caused her, bitterness rose in her throat. How could he have done that to me? I never looked at another man during our marriage.
    Emily’s biological father had turned out to be a loser, and Harold had too. She was so done with men. It was less painful to fantasize and touch herself than trust a man. Her fantasies always consisted of a tall, handsome man with dark eyes, but lately, the dark eyes had turned to smiling blue ones with small crinkles at the corners. She shook her head and picked up the remote, turning on the TV. She definitely didn’t want to go there . Aimlessly, she stared at the flickering screen until she fell asleep on the couch.

Chapter Five
    “B elle’s working the swing shift,” Ruthie said as she set a large slice of apple pie in front of Banger.
    “Did I ask?”
    “No, but you wanna. I’ve seen more of you in the last couple of weeks than I have all year.” Ruthie stood with her hands on her hips, grinning at Banger. “Belle’s a nice woman.”
    “Didn’t ask that either.”
    “You’re a hard man,” she said, winking.
    “Won’t argue with you on that. Pie’s good.”
    “Belle made it last night before heading out. Since she’s been here, business is back on track. I couldn’t wait to get rid of Jimbo. He was a lazy ass who liked his booze too much. He ran so many of my customers off. And the ones I tried after I canned him made Jimbo look like a gourmet chef. I lucked out when Belle answered my ad.”
    A blast of icy air swooshed inside as a group of four entered the diner.
    “I gotta get this,” Ruthie said, nodding toward the group. She shuffled away.
    Banger took a sip of his steaming coffee and savored the fresh-roasted taste. A good cup of coffee with a tasty piece of apple pie was a slice of heaven, especially on a frosty morning. He glanced up at the clock, whose two hands were a fork and spoon, noting that it was only nine thirty in the morning. Belle’s shift didn’t start for another four-and-a-half hours. He’d do some business at the club, drop in on Hawk’s shop to see if he needed any help, then see how the day went.
    He wanted to see Belle again and make her eyes sparkle. The sound of her laughter echoed in his brain. This woman tugged at him; it was like she was a magnet pulling him to her. It was a bit unnerving, but a level of comfort also surrounded the feeling.
    After draining his coffee, he rose to his feet and placed his money on the table. As he headed out, he waved to Ruthie. “See ya.”
    “Tonight’s special is pot roast,” she said as he opened the door.
    “Not sure I’ll be back.”
    “You’ll be back.”
    He could hear the smile in her voice. He didn’t answer because she was right—he’d be back, and he couldn’t wait to see the dark-haired Belle.
    *     *     *
    Belle rushed around, finishing up the laundry then putting the final touches to the casserole she’d made for her children’s dinner. She hated working the swing shift because she missed dinnertime with her kids. When she was growing up, it had been the most important part of the day. It was when her family all came together and talked about their day, shared funny stories and laughter. When she’d been married to Harold, she’d made it a point that they all sat down to dinner as a family. No phones, no TV, only family time, talking to each other. The two years before Harold had died, he’d started missing dinners, using new mergers and work as an excuse. He’d done it several times a month, but she hadn’t been suspicious; she’d known he was trying to expand the company, and he totally used that to his advantage. How naïve