(Highest Ranking #76 in Romance)
Chiara is a journalist. A good one. For the world to know that, all she needs is a scoop. Her instincts tell her that the Riders of Tyr have a few stories to offer to the public and she decides to expose them. Will h...
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Ironhand
"So, is everything good, brother?" Bjorn asks.
I nod and kneel down to screw the bolt on my bike. I am not sure if the bike needs attention but it's a way to spend time with Bjorn.
"It seems you are quieter, Ironhand. More than usual. And you didn't come to see me last night."
"Went for a ride," I say.
"To your cabin?"
I can't but smile faintly. Few things make me happy but going up in my cabin is one of those. I bought it and made the renovations myself. It's my refuge, my place, my own holy ground. Only Bjorn has been there. I invited him right after he found his wife shot in the head.
I shrug. I just went for a ride, nowhere in particular, just enjoying the peace, being on my own.
Bjorn is about to say something but right at that moment, a car pulls in the garage. It's a black truck and I am expecting a tattooed buff guy come out, the usual clientele of the garage. Instead, the door opens and a woman climbs out.
Not comes out, more like unravels. Her long legs are the first thing to appear. She wears a tight pair of jean shorts and leather sandals. I swallow hard as it takes me several moments to travel up till I hit the opening of her white, sleeveless shirt with a knot that lets her belly show. Fuck, I hiss audibly.
"Can I help?" Bjorn cleans his hands on a rag.
She turns and shows her face. The long light brown hair falls in loose curls down her shoulders. Her face is elegant, with sharp angles and a graceful nose. Her lips are full and her mouth is slightly big for her face but it's just perfect. She has a pair of large dominating eyes in the color of hazel with hints of green.
When she sees Bjorn, she smiles widely and my stomach jumps. Goddamn, I got to get out of here, I am suddenly panicking but I don't move a muscle, just stay put, kneeled behind my bike. There aren't many women that can get my attention, but this one? Fuck, but this one does.
"Hey," she walks up with her hands in her back pockets, "I am new in town and in need of a service for my truck. I was told this is the place to be."
"Who told you that exactly?" Bjorn frowns.
If he found the woman as striking as I do, he doesn't show it. Then again Bjorn is so neck-deep in love with his wife, he may not have noticed she is a woman altogether.
"A guy I met at a bar," she adds with open innuendo.
I grip the wrench I have in my hand till my knuckles turn white. She doesn't seem like the type but her smile turns seductive and she eyes Bjorn as if he is water and she is thirsty. Bjorn reads it too and stiffens, his back muscles ripple and not in a good way. He wasn't a big taker on random women before, and now he has gone full-on devoted to Ava.
