Whiskey Neat (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 1) by Lani Lynn Vale Page B

all of the bankers that had turned me down for a loan.
    So when the opportunity to open up my shop in Uncertain had presented itself, I’d jumped on it.
    I’d had Uncertain Pleasures open for nearly four years now, and although I wasn’t doing magnificent, I also wasn’t doing ‘bad’ either.
    But it was people like Diane that were really hurting me.
    It was one step forward and two steps back.
    “Oh no,” I breathed, eyes closing as tears threatened my eyes.
    I walked inside moments later, stiff and sick.
    What was I going to do?
    And why would the paper publish such an article?
    The more I thought about it, the madder I got.
    What in the world gave them the right to judge what I was doing?
    Just because I owned the only sex toy shop in the area didn’t make me a bad person!
    I’d really worked myself into a good lather as I got dressed and made my way out the door.
    But by the time I arrived at the newspaper offices, I wasn’t quite so sure of myself.
    I opened the front door to Uncertain Times, and immediately winced.
    Why?
    Because Griffin was in Orlando, the copy editors, face.
    And he was bellowing at him.
    “Doesn’t your reporter ever do her fucking homework?” Griffin snarled at the copyright editor. “Because if she had, she would’ve known that Lenore has fucking cancer. That she volunteers at a fucking animal shelter every Tuesday and Friday. That she reads to the goddamned kids at the library in Jefferson every Wednesday. That she volunteer’s at Ted’s House every Saturday to watch over Alzheimer patients, like her own grandfather, so their families can go out and get things done for a few hours without having to worry about watching their loved one’s every step.
    “Had she done her homework, she would’ve known Lenore wasn’t a ‘plague amongst society’ like her article made her out to be. She’s a fucking saint that deserves a fucking commendation. Not censure over what she does for a living which, let me tell you, isn’t the worst thing I’ve seen in my life. She could be pedaling drugs to school age kids. She could be prostituting her body like the ladies on Tenth Street. She could be selling organs on the black market like the case I’m working on right now. So no,” he snarled, getting further into the Orlando’s face. “She isn’t a fucking menace, and what you’ve allowed her ,” he pointed at Diane, “to publish is slander. It’s against the law, and if Lenore wanted to, she could sue you. And she’d motherfuckin’ win !”
    Oh boy, I’d never seen Griffin so mad.
    Even that time I’d had the stupid urge to go check on him after seeing him storm out of the coffee shop, he wasn’t this mad.
    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
    Everything coming out of his mouth didn’t scream ‘leave me alone’ like he wanted me to believe. It screamed, ‘I care about her. And I watch over her.’
    I couldn’t breathe.
    “Now, I want a retraction printed in tomorrow’s paper. And I want a public apology to her by Monday. I don’t care what or how you have to do it, just make sure you do it,” Griffin hissed.
    He looked so fucking yummy.
    He was in faded jeans, motorcycle boots, a button up black long sleeved shirt, with a cowboy hat.
    I’d never seen a cowboy biker before, but he was totally working it and I loved it.
    And seeing him so incredibly mad on my behalf was more of a turn on than the cowboy hat sitting atop of his head.
    Then, without another word to either of them or a passing glance to the crowd that has amassed to witness his little speech, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.
    He only stopped to push the door open.
    “Coming?” He asked.
    I blinked, turning to him to see him holding the door open. For me.
    “Me?” I asked.
    He grinned…and my panties melted.
    “Yeah, you,” he confirmed. “Let’s go get some lunch.”
    Without a word, I followed him out, ducking underneath his arm as I passed through the open door, and stopped