Bear (Wayward Kings MC Book 1) by Zahra Girard

Author:Zahra Girard [Girard, Zahra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Roxanna

I hold his hand as he takes me into the hallway. Rough, calloused, worn with years of riding, with knuckles sunken from years of fighting, but as hard as he is, I know these hands will touch me right.

Excitement builds in my chest.

I’m smiling — I can’t help it.

Being in that room, hearing him lay out without any hesitation how he wants to turn this space, that used to be dedicated to guns and whatever other violent business his club was involved in, into something good makes my heart light.

There’s good in Nash.

He’s utterly fierce, violent, and I’m certain Bear earned his nickname for more than just his beard, but the good inside him is just as fierce. And he’s surrounded by people who love just as violently and whole-heartedly.

It might not be typical, but it is a family. As long as Nash can keep a hold of himself, can control that violent part of him I saw earlier tonight, he could be an incredible dad.

Warmth spreads throughout my body.

“When I built this place, I was only planning for myself,” he says as he leads me down the hallway. “I didn’t host people, have guests, any of that. Really, the only people who’ve been here were Samantha and Gunney — they took care of my cabin while I was in the joint.”

“I feel like you’re preparing me for disappointment,” I say. “Is this bathroom going to turn out to have a toilet that’s just a hole in the ground and a bucket of cold well-water for a shower?”

He looks at me, soft smile on his face. “I’m saying that it’s not going to have anything you ladies expect. I’ve got simple needs. So you wont find any vanities or whatever the hell they are, not a lot of shelves or cupboards. Though I suppose that’s something I’ll have to fix, too, sooner or later. For Abigail.”

He can’t stop thinking about her. It’s cute. I squeeze his hand.

“As long as you have a shower, I’m fine.”

“I’ve got you covered there,” he says.

Turning the door handle, he guides me into a room that’s anything but the disappointment I’m expecting. Beautiful tile floors, a sink and mirror that — even though it’s not a vanity — is still well-lit and more than adequate for anything, and an overhead rain shower.

Right next to the shower, there’s a window with a lovely view of the ocean. I can see myself here, starting my day with a view of the sea.

I stare.

There’s so many surprises to this man. I still don’t think I’m anywhere close to having him figured out, but I like the process.

“You built this yourself?”

“With a little help with the plumbing. Yeah.”

“All of this?”

I know what his answer’s going to be; I’m only pressing him because I can hear in his voice he appreciates the attention.

“Yes. It took a damned long time, and there were a few times I wavered and almost called in some contractors, but most everything in here I planned and installed by myself.

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