Also by this author: Resilient (True Brothers MC, #3)
Resilient (True Brothers MC, #3) by Gillian Archer
Series: True Brothers MC
Published by Loveswept on July 11th, 2017
Genres: Romance, MC, Contemporary
Buy on Amazon
Every loner needs a family—and a heart to call home. The bad-boy bikers of the True Brothers MC make good as a strong, silent type shows the right woman that he can speak the language of love. With her lowlife father in prison for manslaughter, Nicole Walker keeps her distance from the biker scene—until she meets the stud running security at her best friend’s wedding. “Tank” is big, mean, and trouble from every direction. Yet Nicole can’t take her eyes off his chiseled body, or deny the pure electricity she feels when he returns her gaze. Guys like Tank are supposed to be a one-way ride to heartbreak. So why, after a scorching night in his bed, does Nicole only want more? From his tour in the Marines to his sister’s disastrous marriage, Tank has seen the worst that life has to offer. Ever since his father’s death, Tank’s been fiercely protective of his family—and the True Brothers have always had his back. But nothing could prepare him for a woman like Nicole, who’s determined to break down the walls around his heart. When violence strikes, placing Nicole in harm’s way, Tank digs deep to find the courage to keep her safe—and the strength to love without limits.
“You hiding out here too?”
I jumped at the sudden question since I thought I’d been all alone outside, but relaxed the moment I realized it was Stitch and not Zag who’d found me.
“Yup.” I took a swig of my beer and sank back into the couch on Reb’s back porch. “Why are you here so early?”
“Brittany wanted to help Jessica with her makeup or some shit. Where’s the beer?”
I pointed at the keg and waited while Stitch filled a plastic red cup to the brim. “So what’s new?”
“Nothing. Anything new with you?”
“Nope. Same shit, different day.”
We sat in silence and drank our beers. If only life could always be as awesome as this moment. All I needed was a hot and eager bitch and the night would be complete.
It was only maybe two minutes after I thought that when the back door flew open and Nicole came flying out.
“Sweet baby Jesus, please tell me that’s beer.”
Before I could answer she swiped my cup out of my hand and pounded the rest of my drink.
Fuck me. She was perfect.
Dammit, I had to stop thinking that. Despite her sarcastic shell, Nicole was a forever girl like Jessica or Emily or Stitch’s wife, Brittany.
Not for me in other words.
Nicole wiped her chin then held my cup out to me.
I shook my head. “Nice try, baby girl, but I’m not taking it back until it’s refilled. So you can run to the keg over there, pull me another round, grab yourself a cup, then maybe I’ll find room on the porch swing for you.”
Nicole blinked down at me. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”
“Yup.” I folded my arms over my chest, silently refusing to take the cup back.
“You men are all alike.” Nicole tossed my cup into my lap then turned to leave.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. You think just because you’re a guy who’s bigger than me and has that hot, badass swagger thing down pat that I’m gonna bow and scrape to do your bidding? It’s pathetic. You couldn’t pay me to serve you.”
I stood up. The cup fell to the ground and made a sharp crunching noise under my boot heal. “Now hold up a minute.”
Nicole froze and her shoulders heaved a huge sigh before she turned and faced me.
I couldn’t hide my smug grin. “Hot badass swagger?”
Stitch muffled his laughter behind his cup.
“Argh!” Nicole tossed me one last glare then stomped back inside the house.
I chuckled as I grabbed a new cup and filled it up at the keg. Fuck me, she was cute. I took a slurp of my beer, then sat back down on the porch swing.
“You son of a bitch.”
I jumped at Stitch’s swear. To be honest, I kinda forgot he was sitting outside too. “What?”
“You’re into her. You, Shawn ‘Tank’ Hudson, like a good girl. I fucking never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“Shut it. You know it’s not like that. I just like needling the chick. She’s got thin skin and riles easily.”
“Which you think is fucking hot.”
I wasn’t gonna deny that. Or acknowledge it.
Instead I shrugged and buried my face in my plastic cup.
“I’m just giving you shit, T. It’s not a bad thing. Just . . . be careful.”
It kinda stung that Stitch would think I needed a warning. The guy was practically a father figure to me. He’d been the one to sponsor me with the club. We’d become friends after I got out of the Marines, and I started hanging out in the roughest bars I could find. I’d needed to vent all the rage and stress I’d been keeping pent up. Alcohol and bar fights were the obvious answer. So when one night I’d noticed three assholes—who I later found out were Saddletramps—cornering a lone guy in the alley behind one of my new favorite hangouts, I waded in to even up the odds. After I’d delivered a few well-deserved ass whippings alongside Stitch, he thanked me by buying a round. A few drinks later he’d somehow talked me into prospecting for the True Brothers MC. He’d given me a new outlet for all my bottled-up rage and stress while (mostly) keeping me out of jail, and at the same time gave me the thing I’d been missing most after the Marines. Brotherhood.
So the fact that Stitch thought I needed to be warned off Nicole stung.
“You don’t have to say it. I know she’s off limits. Consider me warned.”
“Not what I meant.” Stitch took a long pull from his beer. “I think . . . nah, never mind. It’s probably best if you figure it out on your own. Have fun.”
I blinked. Stitch went from warning me off to giving me permission in the span of a heartbeat. What the fuck was that about? “Figure what out?”
Stitch shook his head. “Nah, I didn’t get any warning. Why should you?”
“Holy fuck, old man. Are you going senile on me? You’re not making any fucking sense.”
But Stitch just hitched a shoulder in a shrug and drank some more beer. “Not senile. Just been around the block a time or two.”
Like that cleared things up for me. “I think you need to get a hobby or something. You’ve been spending so much time with Brittany, you’re starting to sound like her.”
“Fuck me. Haven’t been doing much talking with Brittany. Now that we’re finally empty nesters and have the house to ourselves, we’re too busy christening all the rooms to do much talking.”
Christ, that was a mental picture I didn’t need. So I decided to burn the image out of my brain with some more beer and ignore whatever cryptic bullshit Stitch was warning me about or not.