Page 10 of Gunner
I always believed the happier a woman was, the sweeter the reward.
My brother King knew what he was doing. He knew his woman. And like Priest said, the happier King made Bailey the safer he was.
It wasn’t rocket science, but most men didn’t get it.
Fuck no. They thought with their dicks and let their selfishness rule.
No one could rule a woman.
That would be like walking into a steel cage with a hungry tiger while strapped down with raw meat.
It was instant death.
Nope. The logistics were easy in my book.
Happy woman. Happy Gunner.
Parking my bike near the curb in front of Beth and Mike Brewer’s coffee shop, I cut my engine as a pretty redhead walked by. Winking at her, she blushed but kept on walking.
Heading inside the coffee shop, I ignored the chime over the door when I heard Beth say, “Good afternoon, Gunner. You hungry?”
Smiling, I walked over to the counter, leaned on the register and drawled, “Good afternoon, beautiful. I’m always hungry, but I don’t think Mike will let me have what’s on the menu.”
Beth laughed, slapping my arm. “Do you ever stop?”
“When there’s a pretty woman around. Never.”
“What can I get you, Gunner?”
Stepping back, I looked at her display counter. So many sweet treats to choose from. It was hard to decide, but when my eyes landed on the last lemon tart, I grinned. “An Americano, black and the lemon tart.”
Reaching for my wallet, I laid a twenty on the counter as I looked around the shop. It was busy as usual. Beth’s coffee shop was a big hit and a huge moneymaker for the town. “Busy today.”
“Yeah,” Beth said, brewing my coffee in that fancy machine of hers. “The trails opened up last weekend. Tourists have begun arriving. Martha Cohen has already started booking reservations for two weeks out. It’s going to be a busy season this year.”
“You need help in the shop. Let King know. He’ll send a few of the brothers down the mountain to help.”
“Oh, I’m good. Jamison works out wonderfully and as of last night, I have all the help I’m going to need.”
“Yeah,” I said, turning to face her. “How’s that?”
“Sarah came home last night.”
That stopped me dead in my tracks. I couldn’t have heard her correctly because Sarah was supposed to be in Europe, seeing the sights and partying like crazy with her friends. Everyone in town knew that. Me more than anyone else. Hell, I even helped contribute to the trip so she would have a good time.
Please God. Please tell me she was in Europe!
“MOM!”
Slowly turning, a voice I knew well wrapped around me like a warm blanket, causing my dick to take notice. Every nerve ending in my body went on high alert as the one woman I wanted more than air but couldn’t have, walked out of the storage room towards the counter.
From the moment I saw the young and beautiful Sarah Brewer, I knew she was my kryptonite. The one woman who could take my balls and claim them as her own.
She was also the one woman they forbade me from ever touching.
I first met Sarah when she was seventeen, going on eighteen, and headed off to college in upstate New England. She was supposed to be spending her summer vacation partying it up in Europe. So, when she walked out of the backroom and stopped dead in her tracks as she saw me, I gulped.
She was no longer the young girl I remembered. Now, fuller and curvier in all the right places, my Sarah blossomed into a beautiful woman. A fucking drop-dead gorgeous woman.