Page 82 of Animal's Reformation
Chapter Nineteen
Files, receipt books,orders, and manuals littered the large wooden desk. A framed photograph of Lucy’s school picture sat on the left corner of the work surface; her face was glum and red ribbons intertwined with her dark hair. Jada had come up with the idea to braid the fabric with Lucy’s strands, and the young girl loved it so much that she refused to wear her hair any other way.
Glancing at the picture, Animal muttered, “Thanks a fucking lot, Jada.” He’d had a particularly shitty morning trying to remember what the hell Jada had told him about the damn ribbons and braiding Lucy’s hair. After three failed attempts—even though Animal thought he did a pretty damn good job—he had called Olivia to rescue him.
Animal shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “You’re gonna take me down, kiddo,” he said under his breath. And if his daughter didn’t, Olivia most certainly would.
Since their date, they’d gone out one more time, but having a young daughter at home with him made it somewhat difficult to get together more often with Olivia. Hands down, Lucy came first, and Animal wasn’t sure how she’d feel if he brought Olivia into the mix. Lucy seemed to have taken to the cute teacher’s assistant, and her reading was improving greatly, but he didn’t know if Lucy would freak out if she knew he was going out with her tutor.
Animal swiveled around in his chair and gazed out the window at the snowcapped mountains in the distance that glittered in the sun. Forests of pine, aspen, and evergreen dotted the mountainside, their leaves and branches swaying gently in the breeze. A few birds flew across a crystal blue sky; there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was a perfect day to ride around the mountain roads, feel the rush of wind, the smells of wet earth, fresh pine, and sweet hay.
Animal looked back at his desk and groaned. He had too much work to justify taking off on his Harley. He tilted back in his chair and closed his eyes and imagined Olivia, in tight as sin jeans and a clingy top that barely touched the top of her jeans, on the back of his bike with her tits pressed against him and her arms wrapped snugly around his waist as they sped around the countryside.
His dick stirred and his lids snapped open.Fuck!Animal sat up straight and swiveled around to face his desk.I gotta stop thinking about her. What the hell?Plain and simple: Olivia had gotten under his skin in a way no woman ever had. Normally, he’d have some fun with a chick, then he’d move on when the desire started to wane, but with Olivia, he couldn’t imagine moving on and that was what surprised him.
“I just have to think rationally about this,” he said aloud as he picked up a book of receipts on the desk.
But how could Animal thinkanything? His senses were too clouded by her. He’d fallen under her spell, but in fairness, her laughter and sassiness along with her wit and her generous heart had blindsided him. Olivia was so much more than just a good time. Everything about her enticed him and he couldn’t walk away even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. How could he? He already knew so much about her: how the skin around her waist was taut and satin smooth, that he made her tremble when he licked her sweet pussy, and when they kissed, her lips were soft and so fucking demanding.
Whenever he was at the clubhouse, Rosie, Wendy, Charlotte, and the other girls would rub up against him and shove their tits in his face, and he could control his libido just fine, but he couldn’t be near Olivia for ten seconds without getting steamed up. It’d been like that from the first day when he’d seen her trying to take apart her cupboard. She’d hooked him with her dark hair, her stunning green eyes, and her feisty attitude.
Animal flipped open the receipt book and stared at the numbers. Olivia was still wary of him because he was a biker. She didn’t tell him that, but he could sense it in the way she’d study him when she thought he wasn’t looking, or the way she’d wince when Animal told her something was club business. Her fucking dad had done a number on her when Olivia was growing up, and now Animal had to figure out how to put the pieces back together and make them all fit.
“Fuck!” He threw the book at the door just as it opened.
“Whoa, dude,” Smokey said as he bent down to pick it up. “Having a bad day?” His lips twitched and Animal was pretty sure Smokey was fighting a smile.
“What gave youthatidea?” He motioned for his friend to take a seat. “I gotta get a damn bookkeeper. I’m sick and tired of dealing with the numbers, the payroll, and all that other shit.”
“Put an ad in the paper and online—I’m sure you’ll get some applicants.” Smokey thumbed through the receipts.
“I’d rather hire someone who comes recommended. Maybe I’ll ask Throttle or Rags. They finally had to get someone to help out with the books.”
“That’s the price you pay for running your own business. I got my niece doing my stuff. I could ask her if she knows anyone.” Smokey shut the book and pushed it toward Animal.
“That’ll work. Let me know what she says. What’re you doing around here?” He leaned back in the chair.
“Doing a basement remodel. The fuckin’ place is covered in black mold which I didn’t see because it was painted over. I got a crew over there taking care of it, but we can’t get back in until tomorrow. I haven’t seen you at the clubhouse in a while.”
“Been busy with work and Lucy.”
“Is that all?” One corner of his mouth hitched up in a cocky smirk.
Animal glared. “Just tell me what the fuck you mean. I don’t have time for this shit.”
“Bones, Rock, Puck, and Shadow saw you out with a hot chick a few nights ago. They were at … damn …” Smokey snapped his fingers, tilting his head as if trying to remember the restaurant.
There was no way Animal was going to help him out, so he just sat there with his hands folded on his stomach, watching Smokey struggle to remember.
“You know, dude. Fuck, it’s right on the tip of my tongue.” Smokey tapped the left temple of his head.
“I’m kind of busy, bro. When you think of it, text me.” Animal turned toward his desktop and opened the inventory screen.
“El Tecolote!” Smokey yelled. “How the fuck couldn’t I have remembered that? We go there all the damn time. Shit … I’m getting old.”
“Yeah, you just hit thirty, and it’s downhill from there. I oughta know—I’m thirty-two, and I can’t remember shit, bro.”
Smokey’s eyes widened. “Fuck … that’s not good.”
