Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)
Toni – 387-555-8757. Owns the diner in town. They close at 2pm. She’s a friend. – LJ
The words were scrawled in a masculine chicken scratch.
A mix of emotions ran through Holly. Gratitude and happiness at the fact LJ had gone out of his way to think of her and inquire about a place for her to rent kitchen space. Unfortunately, those positive vibes were chased away by a completely irrational jealousy of whoever this Toni woman was. Girlfriend? Fiancé? Fuck buddy?
She’d enjoyed the time spent with LJ yesterday, and had been excited by the prospect of living next door to a single and sexy man. But, of course, he’d have a woman in his life. He was giant-tall, bearded, mouth-wateringly muscled and—she read the note again—clearly sweet. She’d probably have to witness a parade of women coming and going from the apartment next to hers. The thought made the pizza turn over in her stomach.
“You frown at that paper any harder, and it might sprout legs so it can run away from you.”
Holly jumped. Crap, she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. From across the island, Danny watched her with concern. “Everything okay?”
With a smile for her big brother, she shrugged off the unwarranted jealousy and nodded. “Yes, better than okay, actually. I’ve got my first lead on a possible rental kitchen, courtesy of my new neighbor,” she said as she waved the paper in Danny’s face
“From your neighbor, huh?” He reached for a second slice. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned him. Is he cuuute?” he asked as though he were a high school girl instead of a thirty-year-old SWAT officer.
But of course, since he’d hit the nail on the head, Holly’s face flamed, which only caused him to crack up. “Oh, my God, look at your red face. I think someone has a crush! That’s so adorable.”
“Shut up!” She balled up her napkin and shot it across the island. It hit Danny square in the face, which had her dissolving in giggles.
Once they’d calmed and resumed eating, Danny grew serious. “Glad you decided to move out here with Mom and Dad. I know it was a hard decision and that they need to mellow as far as you’re concerned, but I’m thrilled to have you close again.”
Holly’s throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow. “Thanks, Dan.”
He gave her a smile. “I’m gonna help you out as far as they’re concerned. Get them to back off and start seeing you as an adult. It’s more than just them being overprotective, isn’t it?”
Holly nodded as she felt the telltale prickle of tears in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a little unhealthy. On both our parts. Their constant need to know where I am, what I’m doing, and who I’m with, and my always giving them what they ask for.” She shrugged. “If circumstances were different…” If Joy hadn’t been murdered…
“Yeah, I get it. I’m on your side, Hol.”
“Thanks, Danny.”
Holly fingered the note again. Meddlesome parents aside, the pieces of her life were beginning to fall into place. She’d have to think of something to bake for LJ. As a thank-you, of course, not a means to worm her way over to his apartment.
CHAPTER THREE
FIVE A.M. WAS way too fucking early to be driving to work. For Christ’s sake, the goddammed sun hadn’t even shown its face. As the primary project manager for one of his club brother’s construction companies, he often worked long-ass days, but this was pushing it. He’d been working with Rocket for the past few years, even before prospecting with the club. In fact, Rocket was the one who introduced him to the Handlers and encouraged him to prospect. A fellow veteran with his own set of demons, Rocket had boasted the sense of brotherhood in the MC rivaled that of the military, and so far, he’d been right.
Even though it was ass-crack of dawn early, LJ couldn’t blame the fatigue on the hour. He’d been up since three when the familiar nightmare tossed him out of bed and onto his unforgiving wooden floor. The details were fuzzy, but he’d woken drenched in sweat and tangled in blankets on the floor with a bitch of a bruise on his hip.
Nothing new, but a damned shit way to start what was going to be a demanding workweek.
At the moment, LJ had four major projects running concurrently. Made for never-ending grueling days, but he found the work satisfying as hell. Not to mention the constant activity kept his mind occupied, and that was always a positive. His first destination of the day consisted of storm damage repairs on a multi-million-dollar home high in the mountains. The job was a rush because the owners were hosting a wedding in a few weeks. Once he’d checked on that site, he planned to pop in on the other three and make sure the crews were on task. Combine those chores with church scheduled for eight that evening and LJ would be hauling his tired self home with just enough time to catch a few Z’s before starting all over again.