Curly (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 1)

Nancy’s head popped up. “He? That convict guy from the other day?”

With a frown, Brooke turned her face toward her nosy friend. “Don’t call him that. He spent thirteen years behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit. Can you imagine living through something like that?”

Propping herself up on her elbow, Nancy slid her sunglasses down her nose then pierced Brooke with a slightly intimidating look. Even though her friend couldn’t see Brooke’s eyes through her mirrored sunglasses, she felt raw and exposed. Transparent.

“What?”

“Awfully defensive of some random dude who’s adopting a dog from you. Some guy who has a history of leading a criminal motorcycle club that did some terrible shit back in the day.”

“He’s not a bad guy.” God, she was defensive of Curly, but she couldn’t help it. The time she’d spent with him the other night only made her want to learn more about him. To hear his story, as ugly as it might be, and understand what made a man like him tick. “He doesn’t deserve to be judged for something that wasn’t his fault.” Sometimes, one choice set off a chain reaction of events that changed someone’s life, whether or not they deserved it. She sure knew that.

“Mm-hmm.” Nancy laid back down.

“What?” Ugh, that didn’t sound nearly as aloof as she’d hoped.

“I think someone’s got a little crush on a bad boy,” Nancy sing-songed. “Gotta say, I did not figure you for the tough-guy type. I was thinking when you finally woke up and looked at a man, it’d be someone who liked nature walks and granola. Maybe a vegan with a love of hemp and sprouts who rides a bicycle. Not a leather-wearing motorcycle sex fiend.”

“A vegan?” Brooke laughed. “My favorite food in the entire world is Carne Asada tacos. What would I do with a vegan?”

With an unrepentant shrug, Nancy reached for her margarita. “I don’t know. Eat tofu? You love to be outside. You like to garden and get dirty. To romp around with animals. Made sense in my head.”

Brooke arched an eyebrow. “And a sex fiend? Way to stereotype, Nance, and to get back to your original statement, I do not have a crush on anyone.”

“Your face is red. Excuse me if my imagination turned that hot biker man into an insatiable sex maniac.”

Brooke pressed her palms to her warm face. “It’s the sun. Keep this up, and I’ll be advertising for a new best friend.” She wasn’t touching that sex maniac comment with a ten-foot pole.

Nancy snorted and almost spat her margarita all over herself. After she set the glass back on the table, she propped up on her side. “At the very least, you’ve gotta admit the man is studly as fuck. All those muscles and tattoos?” She shivered. “I bet he can do astonishing things in the sack. Like stuff that hasn’t even been dreamed up yet by porn writers.”

Rolling onto her stomach so she could grab her drink as well, Brooke said, “I’m sorry, did you forget about a man named David? He’s about six feet, sweet as hell, handsome, and…oh, your husband.”

Nancy pressed a hand to her heart. “I could never forget my hunky hubby. I was looking for you, my dearest friend. These are purely objective, clinical observations for your benefit.”

Brooke rolled her eyes behind her glasses. God, she loved her wacky friend. “Weren’t you the one warning me about him the other day? And calling him an ex-con just now?”

Nancy shrugged. “I’m not advising you to go ring shopping, but someone needs to clear out your cobwebs. Might as well be a fine-ass man who knows his way around a vajayjay. A woman can only survive on a vibrator for so long.”

“It hasn’t been that long.” It’d been over five years. At this point, so much time passed she’d been intimate with a man she’d probably have a full-on panic attack if she tried.

“Don’t even. Your vibrator called me the other day sobbing. It was sobbing, Brooke. It was all, ‘Nancy, please find her a man. I’m exhausted. She keeps replacing the batteries instead of giving me the rest I need. The rest I deserve.’”

Brooke sat up and blinked at her friend. Then she burst out laughing. “You are insane.”

Nancy grabbed a chip, loaded it up with guac, then lifted it as though toasting. “Never claimed otherwise.”

They spent the next few hours alternately swimming, laying by the pool, and playing with the dogs. Brooke stopped herself after the second margarita. With Curly due in the evening, she needed her wits about her to keep from doing something stupid like telling him what she hadn’t been willing to admit to Nancy. And that was just how irresistible she found those tattoos and all that hair.

And the muscles.

Lord, the muscles.

“Ugh,” Nancy groaned as they air-dried on the lounge chairs after their recent cooldown in the pool. “David will be here soon, which means I have to leave. I don’t wanna go. I’m too comfortable.” There was a distinct whine in her voice.