Spec (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 2)

“Babe, stay out of it,” the guy who’d come out of the office spoke. Must be Curly. But what was an ol’ lady?

Brooke waved off the man with shoulder-length curly hair. “Don’t mind him. He’s growly, but he doesn’t bite.” The man snorted, and Brooke turned pink. “Anyway, let’s talk outside where this nosy group can’t spy on us.”

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’m just going to go.”

Brooke linked her arm through Olivia’s as though they were long-time besties. “Then I’ll walk you out.”

As Brooke tugged her toward the door, one of the guys chuckled. “Looks like your woman’s collecting two-legged strays now, Prez.”

She frowned, but Brooke rolled her eyes. “Ignore them.”

Together, they strode out into the hot Florida sun. Olivia had parked her car in the unpaved area beside a few huge motorcycles. Trudging through the dust and dirt again wasn’t high on her list of fun activities. Her poor shoes.

“Let’s walk a little.”

“No, I—”

“Come on.” This time it was more of an order than a suggestion. Brooke steered her around the side of the building. Olivia gritted her teeth as she wobbled along in the grass on her four-inch stilettos. Keeping her spikey heels from sinking into the ground gave her legs more of a workout than she’d had in ages.

Many chickens ran around, unaffected by their presence. If she stepped in chicken poop on top of everything else, she was going to flip her shit.

“Hope you don’t mind dogs,” Brooke said as a huge brown, tan, and black furry friend walked into view.

She gasped and locked out her knees to keep from throwing herself at the beautiful animal. “Love them,” she whispered.

As a child, her father had two ferocious guard dogs she wasn’t allowed near. They never came into the house and were cared for by a handler. “They’re not pets, Olivia,” he’d always said when she’d asked to play with them. “They’ll take a man’s arm off with one bite.” That had terrified her but didn’t destroy her love of animals. For a time. Throughout her entire childhood, she’d wanted to be a veterinarian and had never outgrown the dream. She was the kid who ran up to every dog she saw and begged her father for all manner of pets. He’d never permitted it. She’d given up on her dream of veterinarian school when her father basically forbade it.

Lance hadn’t been much better. The man would rather die than have a stray animal hair find its way to one of his bespoke suits. He’d never flat-out told her not to go to veterinarian school, but when they talked and planned for their future, it always included her at his side in a supporting role rather than having her own show. She’d been starry-eyed enough to go along with it.

And then he stuck his dick in someone else. The start of her life going off the rails. Though now she was grateful for it because the idea of marrying him while being blind to the kind of man he really was chilled her to the bone.

“Well, Ray is the sweetest boy you’ll ever meet. C’mere, buddy,” Brooke called, and the dog immediately ran toward them with his enormous tongue lolling out.

Olivia laughed as she crouched down to greet the enormous German Shepard. All it took was one adorable dog to have her forgetting she’d worn heels. They sunk into the ground at the same time Ray reached her. His big face nudged her chest, sending her teetering backward.

“Shit!” Brooke yelled. “Ray, sit.” Somehow, she managed to catch Olivia under her arm before she landed on her ass in the dirt. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”

The monstrous dog sat at her side with his fluffy tail thumping and his drippy tongue hanging, oblivious to the fact he’d nearly barreled her over.

Olivia chuckled. “No worries. My fault for trying to balance with these shoes.” The nine-hundred-dollar shoes that she’d never get clean. Worth it for a few moments of furry distraction from her problems.

Brooke grimaced. “I really am sorry. You can meet him more formally later when you’re dressed for the farm. “Ray, go play.” He bounded off with a woof.

Dressed for the farm? What the hell did she have that would work on the farm? And later, she’d be back on the road, heading… somewhere.

Thankfully, the other woman didn’t harp on the issue. But she did relink their arms and continue their stroll. Dressed in cutoff shorts, sneakers, and a fitted tank top, Brooke was much better prepared for tromping through Florida farmland than Olivia.

Since it seemed she was stuck making nice for a few moments, she asked, “Do you know Scott well?”

“Hmm… that’s a tough question,” Brooke said as she watched her dog run with the chickens. “I’ve known him for several months now, but I can’t really say I know him. If that makes any sense.”