Page 2 of Timber's Girl

Sure, we could chat and drink coffee here at the Reaper’s Wolves MC compound, but where’s the fun in that? It’s nice to hang out in the cute downtown of Suitor’s Crossing and enjoy a casual friend date—something I appreciate every damn time after a year of living isolated with my abusive ex.

It’s been fourteen months since I left him and moved into the safety of a cabin owned by the MC, but relics of that period in my life still linger in my mind.

Don’t think about Dean.

But it’s difficult when I read those four words again.You’ll always be mine. Would Dean be stupid enough to threaten me after all this time? And on a fucking biker compound? Especiallywhen I know the club has dirt on him. Dirt they won’t hesitate to release if he decides to fuck with my life again.

I went through great lengths ensuring my location remained a secret, including smashing my phone to bits so he couldn’t track me. Then the fire at Club Wolf happened last week, and Dean—a fucking Everton cop—arrived at the scene.

I know he saw me.

Would he assume because I was with a couple of Reaper’s Wolves men that I also lived on their compound?

Seems like a stretch.

Who else would send me flowers and a card, though?

My friends would snicker and point out the obvious suspect.Timber. My crazy hot shadow. A tall, bearded military veteran who’s appointed himself as my personal protector. But this doesn’t seem like his style.

Timber may not say much, but a mysterious gift and note don’t strike me as the way he’d declare his interest. Like the rest of the men of the MC, when he wants something or someone, I bet he won’t hesitate to claim it. In person. Staring you down with those dark eyes of his.

Groaning, I toss the card aside and grab my purse. I’m already late to meet Caroline. I don’t need to stand here fantasizing about Timber’s captivating gaze. Or what I’d do if he ever actually decided he wants more than being my security guard.

My track record with men sucks.

And my last boyfriend blew all the other jerks out of the water. Because Dean was an abusive asshole. Physically and mentally. It took all of my strength to leave him, and even then, Caroline had to help me.

Timber is nothing like Dean, but can I risk my heart and well-being again?

No fucking way.

Because I don’t think I can survive pain like that a second time around.

CHAPTER TWO

TIMBER

“Timber and Lindy sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Fox sings as he enters Reaper’s Revamp, the MC’s customs auto body shop that I manage. It’d look bad to deck our VP in his smug face, but my fist itches nonetheless.

“You’re a fucking menace,” I mutter, ignoring the rest of the song about love, marriage, and babies.

“And you’re a fucking sap. Yellow daisies? Somehow that’s more serious than roses.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, don’t pretend. Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for Lindy.” Fox looks around the garage, gathering affirmative nods from the other Reaper’s Revamp employees and club members. “It’s nice to know you’re finally doing something about it instead of continuing to lurk around her whenever she makes an appearance.”

“I don’t lurk,” I grumble. Do I make sure I’m within range to protect her if something goes wrong? Sure. But that’s not lurking. That’s being proactive. Smart. Especially since I’ve had to step in a couple of times when things got a little dicey with club business.

Like those crazed church congregants who wouldn’t leave us alone.

Like the fire at Club Wolf where her ex-boyfriend—a fucking cop—showed up at the scene.

“No, you just happen to be Lindy’s second shadow.” Fox rolls his eyes. “Either way, the yellow daisies were an unexpected move. I didn’t peg you as a flower guy.”

Tossing my wrench aside, I straighten from my bent position under the hood of a ‘67 Ford Mustang. It’s obvious Fox won’t let me work in peace until he’s done spouting off whatever nonsense he’s going on about.

“Enough with the riddles. What flowers?”

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