Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2) by Lani Lynn Vale Page B
Authors: Lani Lynn Vale
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from this moment on, I would stay away from her.
Chapter 8
Dildo: the original selfie stick.
-Uncertain Pleasures T-shirt
Annie
“Stubborn, pig-headed, heart breaking, man,” I muttered to myself as I walked into the back of my store.
I glared at the new lock, as well as the brand new alarm that’d appeared as if by magic.
I knew it was Mig, though.
Even though I hadn’t seen him—not once—in a month, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was responsible.
Hell, he wasn’t even living in his house, either.
His ex-wife was, though.
And I felt awkward as hell living in my house, so I’d put it on the market.
I’d also secretly hoped it would bring Mig out of the woodwork, but it hadn’t worked.
Now I was back in my store’s apartment much to, what I guessed was, Mig’s chagrin.
Hence why I now had an alarm system, what I guessed to be a high tech security camera system, as well as a biker bodyguard that never introduced himself.
After talking with Lenore, though, I realized that the biker bodyguard was a ‘prospect’ or someone trying to get into the club.
I hadn’t realized the Uncertain Saints were even looking for someone to add to their club, but I learned new things every day.
Kind of like Lenore being Griffin’s ‘old lady.’
I hadn’t even realized there were such things as old ladies.
But after being informed by Lenore that old ladies were like the wives of the biker world, I realized that I really, really wanted to be one.
I just had to figure out where Mig was first.
Which was where I was going now.
According to Lenore, my partner in crime, Griffin and Mig worked in the same building.
And I had a legitimate reason to be there and ask for Mig’s help.
I was rethinking my decision to go two minutes later as I drove down the road to the office Lenore had given me directions to this morning as I’d done her hair.
It didn’t look like a DEA or Texas Ranger headquarters.
Not that I really had anything to go by.
In fact, I sat studying it so long that I didn’t realize there was someone at the front of my car until they tapped on the hood.
I jumped, turning to find a glaring Mig at the front of my car.
And he did not look happy to see me.
Gathering what little courage I had, I got out of the car slowly, very aware of my head.
I still got head rushes when I went from sitting to standing quickly.
Then my head would start hurting for hours.
So I learned the hard way to do it slow, or else.
“Hey,” I whispered.
I also learned that if I talked too loudly, that it seemed to jar something in my brain, making my head hurt.
Then again, loud noises, sudden movements, and chewing made my head hurt...it didn’t take much.
His eyes narrowed on me, studying me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
“What are you doing here?” He rasped.
God, his voice!
It made shivers run down my spine, and my toes curl.
“I have something to show you…and run by you,” I said.
And I did.
I never realized just why my husband had tried to break into my house that night a month and a half ago.
It wasn’t until I moved my things back into my store that I realized the coincidences.
I walked around the car, passing right by him to get to my right back passenger seat.
I didn’t question why I chose to go the front way that took me by him instead of around the back that was faster.
I could’ve sworn that he’d growled as I made my way past him.
But he didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
Instead, I reached in for a huge box of junk I’d managed to pick up without breaking my head, and turned.
I froze when I saw how close Mig was to me.
He had to be standing only inches away from me, and the only thing separating us was the box in my hands.
“What is it?” He rumbled.
Then I was divested of my box, and he was walking across the street without another word.
I followed behind him, going at a much slower pace than him.
I hadn’t been able to work out since
Chapter 8
Dildo: the original selfie stick.
-Uncertain Pleasures T-shirt
Annie
“Stubborn, pig-headed, heart breaking, man,” I muttered to myself as I walked into the back of my store.
I glared at the new lock, as well as the brand new alarm that’d appeared as if by magic.
I knew it was Mig, though.
Even though I hadn’t seen him—not once—in a month, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was responsible.
Hell, he wasn’t even living in his house, either.
His ex-wife was, though.
And I felt awkward as hell living in my house, so I’d put it on the market.
I’d also secretly hoped it would bring Mig out of the woodwork, but it hadn’t worked.
Now I was back in my store’s apartment much to, what I guessed was, Mig’s chagrin.
Hence why I now had an alarm system, what I guessed to be a high tech security camera system, as well as a biker bodyguard that never introduced himself.
After talking with Lenore, though, I realized that the biker bodyguard was a ‘prospect’ or someone trying to get into the club.
I hadn’t realized the Uncertain Saints were even looking for someone to add to their club, but I learned new things every day.
Kind of like Lenore being Griffin’s ‘old lady.’
I hadn’t even realized there were such things as old ladies.
But after being informed by Lenore that old ladies were like the wives of the biker world, I realized that I really, really wanted to be one.
I just had to figure out where Mig was first.
Which was where I was going now.
According to Lenore, my partner in crime, Griffin and Mig worked in the same building.
And I had a legitimate reason to be there and ask for Mig’s help.
I was rethinking my decision to go two minutes later as I drove down the road to the office Lenore had given me directions to this morning as I’d done her hair.
It didn’t look like a DEA or Texas Ranger headquarters.
Not that I really had anything to go by.
In fact, I sat studying it so long that I didn’t realize there was someone at the front of my car until they tapped on the hood.
I jumped, turning to find a glaring Mig at the front of my car.
And he did not look happy to see me.
Gathering what little courage I had, I got out of the car slowly, very aware of my head.
I still got head rushes when I went from sitting to standing quickly.
Then my head would start hurting for hours.
So I learned the hard way to do it slow, or else.
“Hey,” I whispered.
I also learned that if I talked too loudly, that it seemed to jar something in my brain, making my head hurt.
Then again, loud noises, sudden movements, and chewing made my head hurt...it didn’t take much.
His eyes narrowed on me, studying me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
“What are you doing here?” He rasped.
God, his voice!
It made shivers run down my spine, and my toes curl.
“I have something to show you…and run by you,” I said.
And I did.
I never realized just why my husband had tried to break into my house that night a month and a half ago.
It wasn’t until I moved my things back into my store that I realized the coincidences.
I walked around the car, passing right by him to get to my right back passenger seat.
I didn’t question why I chose to go the front way that took me by him instead of around the back that was faster.
I could’ve sworn that he’d growled as I made my way past him.
But he didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
Instead, I reached in for a huge box of junk I’d managed to pick up without breaking my head, and turned.
I froze when I saw how close Mig was to me.
He had to be standing only inches away from me, and the only thing separating us was the box in my hands.
“What is it?” He rumbled.
Then I was divested of my box, and he was walking across the street without another word.
I followed behind him, going at a much slower pace than him.
I hadn’t been able to work out since
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