Someone was after her and it was my duty to stop them.
Never cross the line. That had always been my rule. But that was before Race True.
The moment I saw her, I wanted her. But there was a problem. She wasn’t just another pretty face—no, she was my first client at ALFA PI. My take-what-I-want attitude shouldn’t include her, but how the hell can I be expected to keep my hands off?
The danger that followed her had my protective instincts in overdrive. And as the clock ticked down, the choice was laid out before me: save her career or risk everything and have her in my bed. Could I put aside my wants for her needs? Or would my selfishness destroy everything in the process?
Warning: If you can’t handle a dirty-mouthed bad boy or a tough woman with an attitude, this might not be the book for you.
MEN OF INKED SPINOFF SERIES – CAN BE READ BEFORE THE MEN OF INKED SERIES!
Other Books in this Series
“I’m so excited to see Sal and Mar,” Ma chattered as she stared out the window, watching the palm trees whiz by as I drove.
“I hope she has food. I’m starving. What’s with the peanuts on a three-hour flight?” I complained as I glanced at the GPS.
We were close, within ten minutes of their house.
“Do you think about anything but food?”
“Yep.” There was so much on my mind, but in that moment, all I could think of was a home-cooked meal. The thing I remembered the most about Aunt Mar was her food. Ma wasn’t a good cook, but we made do. When we’d visit the Gallos, I made sure to memorize every taste until the next trip. “But right now I need to eat.”
“I can’t wait to wrap my arms around my brother. It’s a shame I haven’t been back in so long.” She sighed, fidgeting with her fingernails.
“Why haven’t you, Ma? We used to come here all the time, and then you stopped visiting.”
She placed her hand on my arm. “I felt ashamed after your father left. I couldn’t bring myself to face them.”
“Ma, if they judge you—”
“No, no, Morgan.” She brushed her fingers against my skin. “They aren’t like that. It was all in my head. Then you left for the army and I was scared to go anywhere.”
I glanced at her. “What do you mean you were scared?”
“I always waited for the man to come tell me that my son died serving his country. I was too petrified to go anywhere in case I’d miss that.”
“Jesus,” I said as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”
Her hand flew from my arm and smacked me upside the head. “You just had to sign up for the army,” she nagged as her voice grew nasally. “You couldn’t go off to college like the rest of the kids. I had enough stress in my life besides having my only child serve during a time of war.”
That was classic Fran DeLuca.