Bayou Devils MC (Box Set #1-6)
Bayou Devils MC
Books 1-6
A.M. Myers
Hopelessly Devoted
Bayou Devils MC
Book One
Prologue
My hands are fucking sweating like crazy, and I swear my heart is about to beat right out of my chest. Rubbing my hands on my jeans, I look down and grimace at the oil stains under my fingernails. Jesus Christ. This is only the biggest fucking night of my life, and I couldn’t even remember to wash my damn hands? I grab the rag out of my back pocket and spit into it, doing my best to clean them before she gets here. Tonight has to be perfect. Weeks of preparation are leading up to one single moment that will change our lives, and I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack. I check my watch and take one last look around the back deck of the house I just bought for her today.
When she pulls up out front, the first things she’ll see are the solar lights that I installed along the sidewalk into the backyard, lighting her way to me. Shit. Maybe I should have gotten the rose petals, too. They seemed so fucking cheesy on the shelves of the store but now I feel like I didn’t do enough. Why the fuck didn’t I get her rose petals? Running my hand over my hair, I look up at the twinkle lights that I strung across the patio, stretching the entire length of the deck above our heads. There are a shit ton of candles clumped together in groups all around me, casting a soft glow over the yard with the swing set where our kids will play one day.
Two years ago to the day, I was honorably discharged from the Army, and I thought my life was over. The shit I saw and did in theatre haunted me but not more than the one thing I didn’t do. Just shy of two weeks before my tour ended, I was supposed to go out on a recon mission with my unit but the night before, I got sick. I wasn’t going to let it stop me though, and I tried to power through, but when I passed out in the barracks, the decision was taken from me. They made me stay back and sent Coleman, my best friend out there, in my place. That was the last time I saw him. They were ambushed, and no one survived. He never should have been out there. I should be dead right now but I’m not, and because of me, his mother can never hold her son again, and his fiancée lost the love of her life.
I couldn’t adjust. The quiet was the loudest thing I’d ever heard, tormenting me with my guilt. I couldn’t just be. And then she walked into my life. She breezed into the shop where I was working, and as soon as I laid eyes on her, I was a goner. I couldn’t get enough and soon, the silence was drowned out by her sweet voice and infectious laughter. For the first time in a year, I felt light and happy instead of weighed down by my mistakes. She’s everything that I never even knew I wanted, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s by my side forever.
I’m just a lucky bastard because, really, she could have any man on this planet. All she would have to do is smile in their direction and they’d follow her to the ends of the earth. And for some reason that I’ll probably never understand, she chose me. She chose me, and she lit up my life in the most beautiful way possible. I’ll never stop trying to make up for my failures. I’ll never stop trying to be the man she deserves. That’s why tonight has to go perfectly.
I take a deep breath and look around for a second time, wondering once again if there was more that I could have done, but before I can delve into my panic any further, she steps around the corner of the house and gasps. Her jaw pops open, and she covers it with her hand, looking all around me in wonder. My heart pounds a little harder, and I’m not sure how it hasn’t broken a rib yet.
“Logan,” she whispers as she slowly makes her way over to me, her blue gaze darting over everything again and again like she can’t believe it’s really here. She steps up to me and places her little hand on my chest. “What is all this? And where are we?”
“It’s all for you, Baby,” I tell her, placing my hand over hers and pressing it harder against my skin, loving her hands on me. Her touch is seared into my skin, imprinted into the very fiber of my bones, and there will never be another that makes me feel the way that she does. She giggles, and I can’t stop the wide smile from stretching across my face as she looks around again.
“But why?” Wonder transforms her voice, making it whisper soft as she looks around the patio, trying to take in every minute detail that I spent the last few hours putting together. I take a deep breath and look around the space with her, trying to see it through her eyes. All these lights and candles seemed so perfect when I pictured it in my head, but now I’m wondering if the vision in my mind really translated well in real life. I was in such a dark place before her, and she was my light. She walked into the room, and the darkness didn’t stand a single chance.
“Because I love you,” I tell her, and her head whips back to me, dark hair fanning out in a veil around her. She smiles up at me and leans in for a kiss. I keep it sweet, making sure she can feel every ounce of love that I feel for her. When she pulls away, she smiles up at me again, happiness dancing in her eyes, and it takes my breath away. I want to beat my chest, show everyone that I’m the one that puts that look in her eyes. I want every single person on this earth to know that I’m the man that makes her that happy.
“I love you, too, but that still doesn’t answer my first question.”
“What was your first question?” I ask, my nerves affecting my ability to remember even a few moments ago. She laughs.
“Where are we?”
I smirk, loving that I was able to surprise her with this. “Oh, you mean the house.”
“Yes, the house, Logan,” she scoffs, trying to pull away but I wrap my arm around her hip and pull her into my body, leaning in, and kissing her cheek, right by her ear.
“I bought it for you,” I whisper, and she gasps loudly, pushing against me, and I lean back. Her eyes are wide but she has a smile teasing her lips, almost like she doesn’t want to get her hopes up.
“What?”
Spinning her around in my arms, I point her toward the sliding glass door at the back of the house and stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist as I rest my chin on her shoulder. “It’s ours, Baby. Signed the papers today.”
She shakes her head before leaning back into me and reaching up to run her fingers through my hair. “You’re insane but I fucking love you for it.”
Her hand slides down my cheek, scraping against the stubble, and I know it’s time. I spin her back around and grab her hands, rubbing my thumb across the back of hers as I take a deep breath. “I have one more surprise for you.”
“A house wasn’t enough?” she asks, arching a brow, and I smile.
“Not quite.”
“What is it?” She glances around the yard like she might find the surprise out there. She’s so fucking cute. I take one more deep breath and release her hands, reaching into my pocket to pull out the diamond ring I saved six months of paychecks for, and drop to my knee. Her mouth pops open again for a second before tears form in her eyes. She bites down on her bottom lip as I grab her left hand.
“Sweetheart, I didn’t ever think that I could be this happy but then you walked into my life and showed me just how wrong I was. You lit up my world and brought my tired, beaten down soul back to life. Will you make all my dreams come true and marry me?”
Tears fall down her cheeks as she lets her hand fall away, showing me her watery smile as she nods. “Yes, Logan. A thousand times, yes.”
I slide the ring on her finger, warmth expanding in my chest at the sight of my ring on her hand. It feels so fucking right, and I can’t stop myself from standing, and crushing her body to mine.
“I love you so much,” she whispers into my neck, and I shudder, the impact of her words rocking through me.
“You’re the only
woman on this earth for me, Sophia. I love you. Always.”
Chapter One
Alison
Gravel crunches under my tires and dirt kicks up behind me as I pull into the rundown parking lot. My skin prickles with unease as I look around. After pulling into a parking spot at the very end of the lot, I throw the car in park, making sure my doors are locked as I reach for my phone to double-check the address he sent me. If it weren’t for the line of cars all along the chain link fence covered by a flimsy green material that’s obscuring my view, I would think this place was abandoned. After I confirm that this is, in fact, the right place, I look around in a desperate attempt to figure out where I am. Isn’t this how all horror movies start? The stupid girl goes into the creepy place even though all her instincts are telling her to turn and run like hell, and then the next thing you know, someone is wearing her skin. At this point in any movie, I would be rolling my eyes and screaming at my TV, telling the girl to get out of there. And yet, here I am, sitting in my car and waiting for my date for the evening.
A sign hoisted up on a large pole in the corner of the lot catches my eye, and I groan when I see the name of the place. Mud Runner Obstacle Course. Seriously? My date, Troy, didn’t tell me anything about where he was taking me, only sending me an address and telling me to meet him at five. Who even takes a girl to an obstacle course for a first date? First dates are supposed to be fun, flirty, and have a little edge of mystery. Me, running through an obstacle course and sweating my ass off while my date watches, does not sound fun or flirty to me. And while a good first date should leave you a little breathless, this was not what I had in mind. With a grumble, I grab my phone and check the time, relieved that I still have a few minutes to just relax before I have to go in there. I toss the phone back into the passenger seat and lean my head back on the headrest, letting my eyes drift closed.
I hate this whole thing already, and I hate Mr. Klein, my boss, even more for making me do this. I can’t believe I’m even in this position. Last week, I thought I was a shoe-in for the columnist’s spot that opened up at the paper I work at. But when Mr. Klein called me into his office, it was to tell me that I was up against Chelsea – a woman who has only been at the paper for a year and has worked her way up on her knees, if you know what I mean. My boss, the disgusting pig that he is, came up with the idea to hold a little contest for us. We would each sign up for an online dating service, go on three dates, and write about them to best give him an idea of what our column would look like. If I didn’t want this job so damn badly, I would have turned him down, but I’ve been working for so damn long, and the thought of just giving up killed me.
I’ve been a crime reporter at the Baton Rouge Times for the last five years, and I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am. First, in high school so I could go to a good college, and then even more so in college so I could land my dream job. Since starting at the paper straight out of college, I put in countless hours to build a solid reputation for myself. I love my job, and I’ve learned so much and grown as a writer, but lately, something has been off. There is this stirring in my soul for more. So often, the only time someone sees me is after they’ve already become a victim. I’m the person that comes in and digs into their pain so I can tell the world about it, and after doing it for so long, I’d like to do more. I want to find a way to help people instead of hurting them more. I don’t exactly know how I’d like to do that yet but I can’t help but feel like the columnist position is exactly where I need to be to do it.
My phone chimes with the two-minute warning for my date, and I suck in a steadying breath as I peel my eyes open and grab it, shutting the alarm off. I glance up and scan the line of fence, looking for an entrance, and my gaze lands on a hulking figure standing near an opening that must be the entrance. Even this far away, I shrink back on instinct. Good lord, please tell me that man is not my date. He looks like he could crush me with his bare hands and not in a sexy, “oh, your muscles are so big” way. More like a “please put down the steroids, even your muscles have muscles” kind of way. Looking down at my phone again, I log into the dating website and read his profile one last time. His name is Troy, he’s thirty-two, and a personal trainer. I roll my eyes and gaze at him through the windshield. A personal trainer who brought me to an obstacle course for our first date?
How original.
Glancing up once again at the behemoth I fear is waiting for me, I suck in a fortifying breath and turn off the car before stepping out into the dense Louisiana heat. Time to get this over with. Walking a little taller as I near the entrance, I remind myself that I’ve got this. Chelsea’s writing is, at best, mediocre, and as long as Mr. Klein remains professional, this job is as good as mine.
Then again, I shouldn’t rule out the possibility. He has been banging her right in his office for the past six months.
“Ali?” the giant asks as I draw near, his crystal blue eyes sparkling and a wide smile stretching across his face in greeting, and my fears are confirmed. I muster every ounce of politeness I can and extend my hand. Truthfully, it’s not Troy’s fault that I don’t want to be here. Mr. Klein is the object of my anger, not him.
“You must be Troy,” I say, pulling forward my professional side as my hand hangs in the air between us. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I expect him to shake my hand but instead, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his body and pinning my hand between us as he embraces me in the most awkward hug of all time. My body tenses up, and time seems to stall. I don’t think I’ve ever been more uncomfortable in my life. Besides a few quick messages back and forth to set up this date, we haven’t even spoken and he’s holding me like we’re old friends. When he finally releases me, I take a deep breath, the tension easing out of me slightly but I’m still on edge as he smiles at me, his gaze leisurely dropping down my body and back up again.
I force down the disgust trying to rise up inside me and remind myself why I’m here. If I leave now, I’ll never get this job, and I’ll be forced to read Chelsea go on about sex tips and how to give a perfect blow job twice a week. It would be hell.
“You ready to do this?” Troy asks, motioning to the gate behind him that leads to a massive obstacle course. Oh, hell no. I could maybe be a good sport if the guy had given me a heads up and told me to bring a change of clothes, but no. I’m standing here in a skirt and heels, and there is absolutely no way that I’m doing this. I’m about to answer him when two women stroll by, engrossed in conversation with each other. Both of them are covered, head to toe, in mud. It’s smeared across their faces, caked in their hair, and stuck to their slim, toned bodies like a second skin. When I look back at him, he smiles at me again, almost reminding me of an eager puppy.
“Um…” I say, not sure how to break this to him, and his face falls.
“You’re not into this at all, are you?” he asks, looking forlorn, and I actually feel bad.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t have anything else to change into.” I point down to my skirt and heels like it should be obvious, and he nods. Understanding dawns, and he shakes his head, scrubbing his hand across his short blond hair.
“Shit. Yeah, I guess I should have mentioned that part.”
I want to come back with some sarcastic remark but he looks so disappointed that I can’t bring myself to do it. Plus, I need to go on this date no matter how badly I just want to go home and crawl into bed with a good book. If I don’t, I don’t get that job.
“I’m sorry. If I had known, I would have brought workout clothes.”
He shakes his head, almost like he’s brushing off his mood and smiles at me. “Naw, it’s cool. I understand. We can still go grab dinner though. I know this great place.”
“Okay,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief that I don’t have to run home and find another date to replace this one. “I’ll meet you there. What’s it called?”
“I’ll text you the address.”
I feel ap
prehensive about agreeing to follow him to another mystery destination but reluctantly agree before walking back to my car. As I slide into the seat and close the door, I let out a heavy sigh and lean my head back on the headrest. What a disaster. All I can do is hope that dinner goes better and I actually have something to write about. My phone chimes, and I grab it, expecting the address from Troy but instead smile at the text from my best friend, Izzy.
Izzy:
Where the hell are you?
Me:
Out on a date.
The text from Troy comes in right after I press send, and I program the address into my GPS before setting my phone in the cup holder and starting the car. Just as I’m getting ready to back out of my parking spot, my phone chimes again and I grab it.
Izzy:
Any good?
Me:
TBD. Standby.
Izzy and I have always had a system for getting out of bad dates, and I just have this sneaking suspicion that I’m going to need to use it tonight. Troy seems like an all right guy, I guess, but my not wanting to be here is making me less patient than usual. I back out of the parking spot and start driving toward the restaurant, my GPS guiding the way as I think about the last good date I had.
My love life has pretty much been on hold lately. I had a few “boyfriends” in high school and college but we were just having fun, and no one really hung around for long. Then, just before graduation, I met Adam. He’d been in town to see a few friends graduate and approached me in the coffee shop on campus and asked me out. Adam was so charming, and I was surprised by how quickly I fell for him. A year later, we were moving in together, and I saw us getting married someday. Everything wasn’t perfect but I loved our life together, and I thought we were going somewhere; that we were growing together. Then two years ago, I came home early one day and walked in on him screwing the eighteen-year-old neighbor. I just stood there and watched them for a minute because I couldn’t wrap my brain around what I was seeing. All the dreams that I had built in my head came crashing down around me. I moved all my stuff out that night, and Izzy let me stay with her until I was able to buy my house.