Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)

“Remember when I went to get us some coffees when you were burrowed away in that bookstore?” she asked and I nodded. “Well I got talking to the chick behind the counter, awesome girl and massive babe, she invited me and you to her barbeque tomorrow, you know since we are new in town and in desperate need of some friends?”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to get to know the locals,” I pondered, wondering what kind of people we would encounter at this barbeque, and feeling kind of excited since I was, well, before the incident, a social person.

“I wonder if any of those delicious cops we saw today will be there.” Amy was referring to the three handsome lawmen we saw having lunch at the same spot as us today.

I had a bit of a soft spot for men in uniform after my rescue. I always felt safe around them. Maybe I could go for a more sensible option in a man. My mind wandered to the sandy blond haired policeman with a strong jaw who was tall and very muscular. But my attention kept going back to a scruffy black haired biker, with even more muscles than the toned policeman. Urrrghhh get out my mind! I screamed mentally at him.

“Um earth to Gwennie?” Amy waved her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry, was away with the fairies, what did you say?”

“I said you have to make those brownies you’re so famous for, that will make us some friends for sure. You might even get marriage proposals with those things,” she joked, talking about my special brownies I only make once in a while because of their ridiculously high calorie count and my ability to polish off a whole batch without blinking.

“Well that means we will have to be up nice and early so we can go into the store and get things ready for the opening Wednesday night,” I ordered sternly.

Amy giggled, then saluted. “Yes sir.”

I smiled and sipped my margarita, enjoying the company and the fuzzy feeling created by the drink, thinking I might be enjoying life again.

I woke up after enjoying a blissful, nightmare free sleep for once. I rolled over to look at the time, 6am. We weren’t planning on going into the store until eight, so I had plenty of time for a quick morning run. I needed it after how much I had been indulging over the past few days.

I quickly donned my running gear, some short spandex shorts with a pink band at the top and a pink muscle top with a shelf bra. I completed the look with some pink Nikes. I slipped out the door with my headphones playing and began my run, getting lost in the music and the burn in my legs.

Exercise had been hard to get back into after all my rehabilitation, but running became a major part in getting me back to myself, a time when I could just escape into my own mind, my blaring music stopping my thoughts from wandering into dark places. After running for a good thirty minutes I stopped at a street corner to stretch and give myself a breather.

I gazed around at the nicely kept houses and wondered where the fuck I was. Maybe getting lost in my music while running in unfamiliar territory wasn’t the best idea. Well, that’s why God invented iPhones. Music still blaring I tapped into my map, realized where I was and began to run in the direction of home. Not paying attention I slammed straight into a hard body, proceeding to fall flat on my ass. Confused, I squinted up to see the sexy cop from yesterday, looking down at me with his mouth moving, but due to my music, I had no idea what he was saying. I yanked my headphones out of my ears.

“What?” I kind of yelled, sounding more than a bit unladylike, but I guess that ship had sailed when I fell on my ass.

“I just asked if you were okay, sorry darling, but I just didn’t see you until you slammed straight into me. You fell pretty hard, are you all right?” he asked with concern and extended a muscled arm towards me. I took it, and he hauled me up.

I checked him out, closer I could appreciate him in all his glory. He was sweating from his own run, wearing cut off sweats and a tight NYPD t-shirt that clung to chiseled abs. I peered into his blue eyes and almost swooned. I am not kidding, he was one beautiful man. A shadow of blonde stubble covered his sharp jaw; his face had a kind of all American handsome look, apart from a slightly crooked nose, which only made him more endearing. Sweat beaded down the thick column of his neck and I followed it with my eyes, down to his seriously muscly chest. I shook myself out of it. What is it with this town and the men? Is this where male models came to retire and get badass jobs? The sexy lawman was also blatantly checking me out, it didn’t help my top had ridden up showing a fair bit of midriff. I yanked it down.

“I’m fine, thank you. Sorry, I got a bit lost and wasn’t paying attention, completely my fault,” I explained, slightly breathless. I tried to straighten my ponytail, knowing I was a sweaty mess. I wasn’t one of those girls who looked unruffled and amazing after a workout, I was reasonably sure I looked like a panting dog.

“No ma’am, I should always be on the lookout for beautiful women running towards me, you’re obviously new in town and Australian?” He guessed wrongly.

I barely suppressed a frustrated sigh, I was so sick of Americans assuming I was from Australia, a pet hate for all Kiwis. “No I’m from New Zealand,” I said rather tightly. “And I have been in the States for almost five years now, legally, I promise,” I joked putting my hands up in mock fear.