Fear the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #2)

Rich warm colors coated the walls, and beautiful hardwood planks the color of cherry donned the floors.

The entrance led into a giant great room with ceilings that were at least twenty-five feet high. The gabled ceiling led into a wall of windows that overlooked the rolling hills of the estate beyond. And then, there was the kitchen.

That bad boy was beyond amazing, and it was something that I aspired to be able to afford one day. It had state of the art appliances, black countertops with flecks of blue interspersed throughout, and the sink.

That sink was my dream sink.

A stainless-steel farm sink that was so deep I could probably fit inside of it.

It was freakin’ awesome!

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Ellen asked. “I about fell over when I saw this. This is a freakin’ dream come true to a designer.”

“You’re a designer?” I asked, turning to survey the woman who had the potential to become a great friend.

“Yep.” She nodded her head. “I used to work in Chicago, but…” she stopped when she saw her brother coming. “I’ll tell you some other time when Mr. Grumpy Pants isn’t here to listen in on what I have to say.”

I sensed a story, but I wouldn’t be pushing it. I had my own overprotective brother to deal with.

One who was constantly on my case lately.

One who thought—ever since I got pregnant out of wedlock—that it was his job to keep me in line.

“I have one of those,” I told her conspiringly. “He’s on his way home as we speak. He feels that he can be of some help now that we had the flood. He’s actually a disaster specialist, and usually works out of California and the surrounding areas where forest fires are prevalent. His team is usually one that deals with situations in other states since he prefers the West Coast.”

She blinked, then grinned. “That’s pretty amazing, actually. Has your brother met Tommy yet?”

“No,” I shook my head. “And it probably won’t be for a while. I have a feeling that the two of them will go together like oil and fire.”

“What’s your brother’s name?” she asked, not realizing what kind of reaction that would pull out of me.

Any time someone asked about my family, it was hard.

They always inevitably ended up hitting on the hard topics, even though they never intended for it to happen.

“His name is Brett,” I murmured softly.

“Is he the oldest?” she questioned.

I swallowed.

He is now.

“Yes,” I cleared my throat. “Are you older or younger?”

I needed to change the subject.

Otherwise I might just cry in front of all these badasses.

Badasses who were currently staring at me like I was a bug.

One that was likely to bug the shit out of them or sting them…neither of which I intended to do.

“Younger,” she grinned. “By a couple years. I’m the big thirty-one, and don’t plan on ever aging past it.”

I snorted.

“My mother says that,” I told her with a laugh. “She hasn’t aged beyond thirty-five for fifteen years now.”

Ellen’s laugh sounded like tinkling bells.

Her laugh didn’t just catch my attention, but also the attention of a man across the room.

One I’d seen while working my shifts at the hospital. He was the paramedic that worked for the county, and he was beautiful.

Rough looking, but beautiful nonetheless.

He reminded me of my brother, actually.

A permanent scowl on his face. Tattoos. Beard. Angry eyes.

I’d bet the cake that was sitting in my SUV that they’d be the best of friends if they were to meet.

Not that Tommy didn’t also seem like he’d fit right in with my brother, but my brother would hate him on principal.

Nobody was good enough for me, and he made no attempt to hide that fact from anyone else.

My sister, Morgan, and I were sweet, innocent girls who would be virgins forever. As far as he was concerned, I’d had my child by way of immaculate conception. Apparently, I was the modern-day Mother Mary.

“And who do we have here?” a man boomed.

I blinked, and then turned to find the police chief staring at me.

“Uhhh,” I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I’m Tally. Tally Slater.”

The man’s grin was enough to make me quake in my boots.

I had the unusual desire to confess my sins. Just blurt every single one of them out.

I stole a pizza slice in the fifth grade from a kid that coughed on my lunch. At the age of sixteen, I took a joy ride in my mom’s car, and threatened to run away. When I was eight months pregnant, I accidentally stole a package of pacifiers and was too tired to return them. They’re still in a box at home, waiting for the day that I can return them without feeling like a complete and total dumbass.

Oh, and I am having sexual relations with my teacher!

“What did you just say?”

That voice…it was one that sent shivers up and down my spine, at the same time “Uhhh,” I murmured, licking my lips. “I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud.”

“It’s not every day that I have a woman confess all her sins,” the man in front of me chuckled. “But it’s nice to know that you won’t have a problem telling the truth. My boy there deserves a woman who won’t fuck him over.”

My brows rose.

“Have you had a woman fuck you over before?” I asked him, my head tilting slightly to the side to take in Tommy’s eyes.

They looked bluer today. I don’t know if it was because his face was more scruffy than normal, or if it was because he had dark circles underneath his eyes.

He still looked delicious, though, regardless of his messy hair, unkempt beard, and his obvious exhaustion. Especially since he was in jeans and a t-shirt instead of the hospital scrubs I normally saw him in.

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” I asked him, eyeing the beer that he popped open.

He grunted.

“Was that supposed to be a yes?” I pushed.

He sent a glare in my direction.

“What are you, my mother?” he challenged.

I gritted my teeth.

“No,” I denied. “I’m your girlfriend who is concerned about your well-being. I was just wondering if I should drive you home or not.”

“I’m staying here,” he grunted, returning his eyes to the men that were watching us like we were the main event. “What the fuck are y’all looking at?”

His snapped words only had grins popping up on the men’s faces.

“All right, darlin’,” the big man in front interrupted. “My name is Big Papa. This is Ghost,” he pointed at the man who spoke to me when I’d first gotten here. “You know Tommy. That’s Seanshine,” he pointed at the angry man who couldn’t take his eyes off of Ellen. “Then you have Truth and the New Guy over there making dinner.”

New Guy was obviously new to the club seeing as his was the cleanest looking leather cut in the room. He was at the stove stirring a pot of what smelled like chili with a badly scarred hand.