Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)

Holly almost laughed out loud. Clearly, her father had yet to meet Izzy. It shamed her to admit she’d love to watch him call her a doormat to her face.

“Dad, you may have come across clubs like that in the past, but this one—”

“What? Is different?” He laughed. “Please tell me you didn’t fall for that line of bullshit. I’m going after the club, Holly. Mark my word, by the end of the year that clubhouse will be nothing but an abandoned building in the woods. I just hope you don’t get caught in the fallout.”

So do I.

Her father stood, and her heart sank. “I’m not hungry anymore,” he said.

“So this is how it’s gonna be? You won’t even share a meal with me?”

“I’m not going to tell your mother about this. You can do that yourself. I won’t be the one to break her heart.” He turned, took two steps and froze. Standing not ten feet from the table, gaze locked on Holly, was LJ.

A shiver skittered down her spine. She’d be lying through her teeth if she didn’t admit the sight of him watching her with such intensity sent a dark thrill through her. That look promised sensual delights she’d grown to crave since meeting LJ.

Her father strode forward, resting his hand on the pistol hanging from his belt. A hush fell over the diner. The weight of every nosy gaze in the place fell heavy on her shoulders. When her dad reached LJ’s side, he whispered something to the man who made her heart skip a beat.

Other than a hardening of his eyes, LJ didn’t react to her father’s words. He stayed steady and strong as he focused on her. “You have a good day, Sheriff,” he finally said as he walked forward. The jangle of bells five seconds later indicated her father had left the diner.

Without paying a lick of attention to another soul in the diner, LJ veered straight for her table. Instead of taking the spot vacated by her father, he slipped into the booth next to her.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey. What did he—”

“It doesn’t matter.” LJ captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This here is what matters,” he whispered before giving her a kiss sweeter than any he’d given her so far. Her body went haywire, nerves dancing with pleasure. But it was her heart that bloomed with a dangerous happiness.

After one last soft kiss to her lips, LJ settled one arm across her shoulders while signaling for Jazz to come get his order. “What’d you get, sugar?”

Just like that, her internal turmoil quieted. “Is it too late in the day for me to get waffles? Because that’s what I ordered.”

With a snort, LJ said, “Fuck no. You had them yet? They’re fucking great. I’ll get ’em too.”

He dropped a kiss on top of her head. Holly smiled as she settled into the crook of his arm. As his warmth, his scent, and his strength surrounded her, it’d be so easy to slip fully under his spell.

But just as she was about to release the conversation with her father to the universe, his words rang through her head.

God, Holly, you’re so naïve.

Was she? Was she doomed to crash and burn in embarrassment when it turned out her father was right, and the MC disbanded due to arrests of all its members?

The thought was sobering. Enough to make her second guess recent choices.

She glanced up at LJ who was waving one of his brothers over. One arm still around her shoulders, his eyes sparkled. The club brother said something Holly failed to hear. LJ threw his head back and laughed. The sound had Holly smiling. Full of happiness, lightness, and humor. She refused to believe this man had an evil core.

The tension with her father would blow over. It had to. They were family, and a close one at that. With time, he’d see how well LJ and his club treated Holly. LJ might never be her father’s favorite person, but they’d get through it. And her whole family would be better off with a new and healthier dynamic.

God, Holly, you’re so naïve.

Only time would tell. Something about the big man next to her made it impossible to walk away, no matter the risk.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“ARE YOU SURE you’re okay with me borrowing your truck?” Holly asked LJ for what had to be the tenth time that morning.

He rolled his eyes. Clearly, Holly was the one who wasn’t entirely okay with borrowing his truck. “Sugar, what did I say the other million times you asked?”

“You said, ‘what’s mine is yours, sugar, so stop fucking asking,’” Holly said, mimicking his much deeper voice.

LJ laughed. “That’s right. So, stop fucking asking. Here.” He handed her one of the homemade donuts she’d brought over. “Stuff this in your face so you can’t ask again.”