Honey Whiskey (A Bastards MC Novel)
Read Honey Whiskey (A Bastards MC Novel) Online
Authors: Carina Adams
Tags: #bastards, #tattooed guys, #tattooed hero, #alphamale romance, #biker bad boy, #badass alpha male, #swoonworthy hero, #tattooed alpha male, #biker erotic romance, #biker alpha male romance
Honey Whiskey
By Carina Adams
This book is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product
of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.
Honey Whiskey
By Carina Adams
Copyright ©2014 Carina Adams
Smashwords Edition
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical without the expressed permission of the
author.
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the hard work of this author.
Cover art created by M.S. Fowler of
Melchelle Designs
Editing done by Amber B. of Editing By
Amber
Table of Contents
Even though she hates it when I call her
that.
I know I haven’t been an easy child,
But the greatest things in life never are.
I love you Mum!
Prologue
Matty
A giggle floated across the room,
snagging my attention from the conversation a few of the guys were
having around me. I didn’t have to look up to know where the
contagious sound was coming from—Joes had a laugh like no other. It
was a sound that always made me smile. Then again, Jo had an
uncanny ability to make everyone around her react that way. I’d
once bet a co-worker he couldn’t spend the entire day locked in a
car with her without laughing. The crotchety old bastard was
adamant that she was annoying as fuck, and he wouldn’t as much as
crack a smile. He’d even rolled his eyes at her as they were
leaving that morning, scowling at whatever story she’d been
sharing.
I didn’t gloat—much—when he walked
up to me at the end of the day and put a fifty in my hand. I did
laugh loudly as I walked to my car, but that was only because I’d
been in his shoes. I may have been a member of the Josephine Walker
fan club, but after that day, Robert Pappas became the president.
Any time one of our co-workers would complain about the new kid,
Old Bobby—as Jo affectionately called him—was quick to put them in
their place. Easiest money I’d ever made.
Another laugh pulled my thoughts
back to the present, and this time I looked up, watching her with
our work friends. A group of us had come out for our monthly “Babes
and Booze” night—I inwardly cringed at the God awful title it had
been given. It was the one evening a month where we grabbed our
significant others and came out drinking, forgetting that we were
responsible adults—a night we all looked forward to for
weeks.
There was only one rule—no talking
about work. It might sound simple to follow, but at least one of us
broke it every time. We couldn’t leave the job at the office, no
matter how hard we tried. A bad case would stay with you long after
you’d gone home. We all had ‘em, but some of us were a lot more
fucking unlucky than others. Sometimes, you just needed to lift the
bottle, drown the memories, and depend on your friends to get you
home.
Tonight, that was my plan. As much
as I loved my job, there were days I wished I’d stayed a carpenter.
A bored housewife that wanted to flirt with the help was a hell of
a lot easier to forget than the case I’d been assigned this week.
Todd, a tiny toddler, had been beaten bloody because his mom didn’t
have one fucking ounce of maternal instinct and lacked even the
smallest amount of motherly love. I’d seen some fucked up shit,
hell, we all had in this job, but I’d never be able to forget the
bruised face, eye swollen shut, and the fear that made every inch
of his body shrink away from me when I walked into his hospital
room. He would never remember the words I had whispered, or even
begin to understand what I meant when I promised him he’d never go
through it again. And I’d never forget.
That kid got to me. Part of me
wanted to scoop him up and take him home, spending the rest of my
life making sure he never missed another meal or bath, and proving
to him that he could be a kid, a real kid, without fear of physical
harm. Another part of me wanted to call Rocker and have the boys
come take care of the parents, just to make sure they never got him
back. Instead, I did my job. I let the law work the way it was
designed and prayed that it wouldn’t let me down. Because I sure as
shit didn’t know how I would react if his parents got him back and
hurt him again. I wasn’t sure I could do my job if there was a next
time.
I could rest easier knowing that
one of the best foster moms I had ever worked with was staying
bedside at the hospital until Todd was discharged. Then, she would
take him home and love him like her own until his parents could get
their shit together. She would hold him and scare away the monsters
in the night, tell him he was adorable, and funny, and sweet, and
give him lots of kisses. She was a fucking saint, the kind of mom
every kid deserved. The idea that she might save him and then I’d
have to take him back to shitty ass parents pissed me
off.
Three days later, and I was still
pissed off. I could feel the tension flow through my body, as if it
was just waiting for someone to infuriate me further so I could use
my fists to get out some of the anger. I took a long drag off my
bottle, hoping it would help me forget the past week.
Joes picked that moment to look
over at me, her smile slowly fading into a frown as she caught my
eye. Shit! I hadn’t even realized I was giving her the death glare
until she raised an eyebrow and tipped her head in silent question.
I shook mine back, hoping she would understand that she wasn’t my
target, and sent her a quick smile. Our friend Teagan grabbed Jo’s
arm, dragging her eyes away from mine, and said something that made
everyone laugh.
Jesus, she was gorgeous when she
laughed. My mouth was suddenly dry and I took another gulp of my
Sam Adams, not able to tear my eyes away from her. She'd pulled her
dark hair back, giving me the perfect view of her face. Her usually
pale skin had a pink tone tonight, probably from all the alcohol
she’d consumed, but it suited her. Even from here, halfway across
the bar, I could see the pale blue-green of her eyes. She was
beautiful all the time, but when she laughed it…
No
. I shook my head, scowling at my thoughts. She was taken.
Seriously fucking taken. Happily married taken. I ground my teeth
at the idea. Married to a fucking douche nozzle that didn’t even
begin to deserve her. I may have some serious shit buried deep, but
compared to that fucker, I looked like a prince. I took another
swig, pissed at my thoughts. She was my Joes, my best friend. That
was it. That was all she could ever be and any other ideas that
filtered through my mind I’d blame on the booze or my miserably
fucked up week. Just another reason for me to be pissed off at the
world.
I needed a shot. Screw one, I
needed ten. Chased by a couple glasses of Jack. I turned back to my
buddies, made my excuses, and headed to the bar.
“
You ok?” Joey’s voice was full of
concern as she slid up to the counter next to me.
I nodded, threw my head back, and
swallowed, hissing as the harsh liquor burned its way down my
throat. “I will be.”
“Wanna talk about it?” I could
feel her heated gaze but refused to look at her. I didn’t need to
see the concern I was sure she had etched all over her face.
Instead, I shook my head and lifted the next shot in line. She
chuckled and I turned to her in surprise. “Jesus, you are a
stubborn ass!” She shook her head, but I couldn’t tell if it was in
annoyance or humor. Then she smiled and stepped in closer, wrapping
her arms around my hips. “I’m sorry you had such a rough
day.”
I sighed, moving my arm around her
back and pulling her close. If she didn’t care that Billy or our
friends saw us like this, I didn’t either. Fuck ‘em. Half of ‘em
thought we were already screwing, and the other half knew she
thought of me like a big brother. I could care less about any of
their opinions. As for Billy, he could suck it. I leaned my chin
down to rest on the top of her head, enjoying her soft body against
me, while she gave me a quick squeeze and then pulled away. I let
her back up, but kept my arm over her shoulders. My mood instantly
improved. “What was that for?”
She smiled up at me and then shrugged. “You
needed a hug.” She laughed lightly, as if embarrassed by her
actions. She tipped her head back to meet my eyes and then wrinkled
her nose. “I like her.” One of the many reasons she was my best
friend, Jo was a master at changing the subject and could distract
me from even my worst thoughts.
“
Yeah?”
“
Yeah.” Jo smirked. “I mean,
obviously she’s gonna wake up in a few weeks and wonder why in the
hell she’s dating an old man that looks like you, but in the
meantime, she seems pretty great.”
“Old man, huh? Last time I
checked, you were about a minute younger than me.”
“Dude, you turn thirty-five next
month and that’s ancient!” Her eyes grew wide in exaggeration and
she laughed. “And what is she, like twelve?”
I snorted. Tay definitely looked a lot younger
than twenty-six. “Yep, something like that.” I couldn’t help but
smile down at her.
“
Seriously,
though, she is beautiful. You weren’t lying. I think she may be the
prettiest woman I’ve ever met.” A frown crossed her features, but
she cleared her face before I could say anything. I raised an
eyebrow, sure I was missing something. “And, she’s nice. I can’t
believe I’m going to say this, but I think you’ve finally found
it.”
“
It?” I didn’t want to know what
she meant, but I had to ask.
“Your future.” I didn’t know what
to say, and she shrugged knowingly. “You don’t have to say
anything, but it’s been written all over your face all night.
You’re distracted because of work, yeah, but you’ve got this goofy
surprised look, too. As if you just realized something important.
Kind of like the one you had when you realized you were in love
with Becky.” Jo moved her attention to the bar, as if avoiding me,
and grabbed my glass of whiskey. After taking a giant gulp, she
turned back to me. “I was worried. After Bex…,” she trailed off,
biting her bottom lip, and 'hmphed' the way she did when she was
debating something. That habit always distracted me pulling my
thoughts to places they shouldn’t be, like wondering what sounds
she would make if it were my teeth sinking into her. Forcing my
mind to clear, I raised the third shot and downed it fast. “I just
worry about you.”
