Spec (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 2)

“They are that, but they’re great.” The glowing grin on Brooke’s face spoke to her love of the men in the MC. “Loyal, protective, fun. Hot.” She winked. “The club is new, but the guys became a family super-fast. I think they all needed that sense of brotherhood for their own reasons.”

What were Scott’s reasons? Didn’t he already have a family with a few siblings? Deke had mentioned at least one sister. Why would Scott seek out this group of, well, criminals, technically? Shaking her head, she shoved those thoughts aside. Scott’s motivations weren’t any of her business.

“Thank you for this,” she said with sincerity. “You didn’t need to come shopping with me today, but I appreciate the company. I can’t imagine how you convinced Scott to let me stay, but I’m grateful. I can’t go… I mean, I’m not ready to go back home just yet.”

Or ever. But she didn’t want to get Brooke involved in her real problems. She just needed a few days to figure out where to go next and how to handle Lance.

Brooke grabbed a cart and turned left as though she knew the store’s layout by heart. All Olivia could do was follow along in awe. This store seemed to have everything—office supplies on one side, feminine hygiene products on the other, and gardening supplies on the other end of the building.

“My pleasure.” Brooke grabbed a candle off a shelf and took a whiff. “Ohh, no, eww. Smells too much like a soap my grandma used to use.” She set it back down with a dramatic shudder. “And don’t give up on Scott. He’s a good man. I think he’s just seen too much in his life. It’s hardened him. I’m still trying to crack my way past his shell. I think Curly feels the same way.”

Being a Ranger for over a decade? Yeah, he’d for sure seen and done a lot. But Deke had been by his side through all of it and hadn’t acted like a dick. Not that she’d been very close with her half-brother, but he’d always treated her with kindness at the very least. Even when she’d believed all the horrible lies their father had said about him.

“Let me guess, Scott asked you to keep me away from him as much as possible?”

“What? No, definitely no. Nope, not at all.” Brooke’s face colored, and she shook her head with too much force. “That’s silly.”

Olivia snorted. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Linking their arms as she’d done the previous night, Brook tugged her toward a sign hanging from the ceiling that read, ‘Kitchen and Dining.’ “Enough serious talk. Let’s get you some supplies.”

Twenty minutes and much help from Brooke later, Olivia had most of what she needed to survive a few weeks in the studio apartment if she ended up staying that long. She wasn’t convinced it would be wise but hoped it could work. Lance would never think to look in a place like the club. He’d never known about Scott and wouldn’t expect Olivia to surround herself with bikers if the world was coming to an end and they were the only ones around to take her in.

She bought the basics—towels, toiletries, some simple plates, and flatware. This Target place really was a one-stop haven. She couldn’t believe how easy it’d been to get everything on her list. Nor could she believe she now owned plates made from something called melamine that could be dropped on the floor without shattering.

She was trying, really trying not to come across as the spoiled princess so many people accused her of being. She didn’t think she was better than anyone here. In fact, she often had low self-esteem from growing up under her father’s hyper-critical eye and moving right in with a fiancé who was as superficial as they came. Perfection in her looks and actions had been demanded from both men. Twenty-five years of living with very wealthy men had made her who she was. Money and privilege were all she knew. She was trying to fit in but felt like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole.

Somehow, she managed to keep her flabbergasted reactions in her head and act like this shopping excursion was normal for her.

Which it wasn’t. She and her friends shopped at boutiques and designer stores where appointments were required, and a liaison assisted them with whatever they needed. Shopping trips usually consisted of champagne in the dressing room, and she sure as hell had never seen panties come in a pack of three for the cost of a venti Frappuccino.

By the time they reached the bedding, Olivia’s head was spinning, and she felt so out of her element, she could’ve cried. Toilet brushes, mops, squeegees? Her face burned with shame as Brooke recommended items Olivia had never touched, let alone used. At home, their housekeeping staff kept a rigid cleaning schedule, and if anything needed an extra shine or polish, Olivia only had to mention it once, and magically, the space was sparkling clean the next time she entered.