Series: River Reapers MC #2
Brash social worker Olivia has been through her own personal hell and come out the other side, tattered but determined to make things better in her corrupt town—no matter the cost. Her roommate’s current situation is the perfect place to start.
When ex-con Cliff’s wild ol’ lady Olivia comes to him and the River Reapers for help, he’s on board. His vigilante motorcycle club can get the job done, and it’ll help convince Olivia to take the next step in their relationship.
But when Olivia’s traumatic past walks through the club’s doors, there’s no stopping her from doing whatever it takes to settle her own score. Even if it means crossing a line that Cliff might not be able to pull her back from.
If you like dark romances with vengeance, heat, and a hero who makes you swoon, you’ll love A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.
Buy A Risky Prospect now!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: You must read Book 1, A Disturbing Prospect, before reading A Risky Prospect.
Pressing the doorbell for Olivia’s place, I step back. Only the porch light is on. No light shines from inside. I can’t imagine she and her roommate are already in bed. I raise my fist and knock, a soft three-tap, just in case.
From the other side, I hear a soft meow: Dio.
“Hey buddy.” He meows again. I picture him rubbing his cheek against the door. “I guess no one else is home. I’ll see you later.”
Turning, I chuckle. Olivia’s got me talking to her cat now.
She’s got me doing all kinds of things—like picking up her father. I wanted to see her before I left, even if only to wish her luck for her first day at DCF. Maybe see if there’s anything I should know before meeting him, or if there’s anything she wants me to scope out before she meets him.
She isn’t home, though, so there’s not much I can do, other than go back to the club house and try to get some sleep.
I walk slowly back to the Screamin’ Eagle. The last thing I want to do right now is go to bed, mostly because I don’t want to get up at the ass crack of dawn to drive all the way to Lewisburg. Traveling by train would take longer, and neither my President or Treasurer were willing to pony up for a plane ticket. Worst of all, I have to take a cage. It’ll be more comfortable than riding all the way down, but the more I ride, the less I want to be in a car.
I swing onto the bike and grab my helmet. Securing it in place, my fingers pause. Olivia might be working tonight. That would explain why she isn’t home. There’s also a chance she’s at my cousin’s, but I’d rather not ride all over town trying to track her down. If she’s already at the club, I might be able to talk her into staying the night. That way she can crash in my room after work, and I can see her before I go. Maybe even see her naked.
Two birds, one stone.
With that happy thought, I fire up the Screamin’ Eagle, wincing a little as I imagine poor Dio hiding from the noise. Ever since Eli, he’s been so skittish. If Olivia hadn’t already killed him, I’d kill the motherfucker myself. Who the hell tries to kill a tiny, defenseless kitten?
I wish she’d told me what was going on before it got that bad.
That’s Olivia for you. She can take care of herself, which is one of the things I love most about her.
I nearly stomp on the back brake.
I love her.
It’s a whole-body realization. The road tips upward, the bike falls down into the sky. I float for a moment, fingers and toes tingling. Then I slam back into my seat, the bike firmly on 63. Somehow I still have my balance.
I have to tell her. I’ve never been good at keeping my feelings to myself. My father’s headstone is proof of that. It’s either tell her, or walk away, and I already know I can’t do that.
I can’t tell her, either.
She shut me out when I suggested we move in together. I can only imagine what she’ll do if I tell her I love her.
I love her.
The more I repeat it, the more woozy my stomach is, like I’ve had a few drinks and I’m warmed all the way through. At the same time, it makes me need a drink.
There’s a good chance I don’t really love her.
I have no idea what it feels like to be in love. I know what it’s like to love someone—my little cousin. I know what it means to be loved—my cousin again. But the odds that I wholly, truly love the first woman I laid eyes on after getting out—not to mention fucked in the back of a station wagon—are slim to none.
I’ve been lonely for so long, I’m just imprinting on her.
That’s got to be it. Because there’s no way someone like me can really love her, not now. What I think I feel for Olivia can’t be real.
Not after twenty years of crushing in noses with my fists. I don’t deserve it.
She doesn’t deserve me.
Elizabeth Barone writes books starring badass belles who chose the other path because her life is just as offbeat. Before publishing her debut novel, she was a chef, web designer, apprentice teacher, and retail soldier, but writing is her first love. It took a debilitating autoimmune disease to make her realize it was time to chase her dream.
Elizabeth is the author of over a dozen contemporary romance and suspense novels. She lives in Connecticut with her real-life book boyfriend (husband) Mike and their feisty little cat Squirt.
