Lucky's Choice (The Last Riders #7)

Pacing his floor, he ran his hands through his shortened hair, trying to get control of his rampaging desire. He knew he could call one of the numerous women he had fucked the last few months and have one underneath him in less than five minutes. Instead, he threw his cell phone against the wall, shattering it into as many pieces as he had Willa’s heart.

No matter how much she hurt, he had to keep his distance from now on. Bridge wasn’t bluffing. Before he had left the Navy Seals, Bridge had been considered one of the best. Deadly and relentless when he hunted for his prey, his job had been reconnaissance, hunting for the target that had been given to him. Once found, they would send in Shade. Bridge was the hunter, Shade the assassin.

Only two men were living who had the skill to kill Bridge. Shade was held back because of the promise he had given, and the other was held back because his honor refused to let him kill a man who deserved his vengeance.

Lucky went to the window, parting the curtain to stare out at the town. If he wasn’t tied to the church again, he would be on his bike, roaring down the street and enjoying his freedom. He had lost count of the times he had stood here when he had been a pastor before.

He expected the same feelings of being caged and bound he had felt in the past. However, those weren’t the emotions assailing him tonight. He felt as if he were home. It wasn’t because he was back in the church, though. It was because of … Willa.





Chapter 15


Willa rolled over in the bed, trying to escape the bright sunlight. She wanted to go to the bathroom, but she was too scared to move for fear of throwing up. She was afraid to even open her eyes since they hurt so badly.

She whimpered, her hands holding the side of the bed as she scooted her butt to the edge of the mattress. She cautiously opened her eyes, feeling her stomach roll.

“I’m never going to eat or drink anything Penni makes again.” Willa whimpered in pain as she tried to stand. She was halfway across the bedroom before she realized it wasn’t her bedroom.

“What?” She stared around the room for a second, trying to remember the night before. The last thing she remembered was seeing Lucky’s shocked expression when she had left King’s restaurant.

As images from the night finally penetrated her foggy mind, her hands flew to her cheeks.

“Just let me die,” Willa mumbled, praying the door she was headed for was a bathroom. Opening it slowly, she found a small bathroom with an old-fashioned tub.

“This one you give me?” Willa said out loud, thinking of the thousands of things she had prayed for since she was a little girl.

She gently washed her face with a soft washcloth, feeling as if it were a Brillo pad. Then she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were so bloodshot she looked like a vampire, and her blouse had been buttoned wrong. She fixed her appearance as best she could before she went back into the bedroom, nearly tripping over her tennis shoes and barely managing to keep herself from falling onto the bed.

Carefully picking up her shoes, she sat down on the bed to put them on. When she finished, she went to the bedroom door.

“Please, please let me get out of here without Lucky seeing me.” She was beginning to feel like she was on a roll when she managed to slip out of the unfamiliar home.

It was still early enough that hardly any traffic was around except a few early risers going into the diner for breakfast. She didn’t look in their direction, walking toward her house. It was only a couple of blocks away.

Willa had no choice other than to knock on her front door. She couldn’t remember where her purse was. It was a sad day when she hoped a thief had it instead of having to face Lucky to get it back.

After Mrs. Stevens opened the door, letting her inside, Willa thanked her then explained she had to get ready for church. Mrs. Stevens departed, leaving Willa feeling guilty for rushing her off. Then the clock on her wall had her running upstairs to get the kids up for the service.

As Leanne and Charlie both grumbled, wanting to sleep in, she sympathized, wanting to climb into her own bed and pull the covers over her head. She darn sure didn’t want to have to face Lucky. However, no catastrophe made attending church impossible, so Willa ushered the children to her van and into the front pew with a few seconds to spare. She had barely leaned back when the side door opened and Lucky entered.

Willa determinedly stared down at the Bible in her hands. Listening to his sermon without lifting her head, she wished there was some way to get out of standing with him at the end of the service.

The service ended much too soon. Hearing Lucky step down from the podium, she began to stand with Caroline in her arms. Lucky stopped next to her, taking the girl from her, then held out his free hand. Willa took it, her fingers trembling within his grip as they walked down the aisle to the doorway.

The line of parishioners seemed never-ending, and Willa simply wanted to escape and go home.

“Willa, Lucky.” Curt Dawkins stopped in front of them.

Lucky was slow to take the hand held out to him, shaking it briefly before placing his arm around Willa.