Read Online Snow in Texas (Lean Dogs Legacy #1) by Lauren Gilley - Free Book Online Page A

that.”
                  “Right.” He pushed away from the jamb. “I’m heading out. Be back in a bit.”
                  “Okay.”
                  Just before he walked off, he said, “It’s a shame, though, you not liking anybody, ‘cause he sure as shit likes you.” With that happy bomb to keep her awake long into the night, he walked away with a laugh.
     
    ~*~
     
    Colin
     
    Colin woke before dawn, feeling stupid that he was too amped up to sleep, but unable to affect a change. His eyes had snapped open, the word bike echoing through his brain. He hadn’t felt this way since the Christmas he’d asked for a BB gun. He’d been eight; he’d gotten a .22 instead.
                  When the sky beyond the window began to gray, he rolled out of bed, dressed, and headed outside. By the time the sun was up, he’d washed all the club trucks and was thinking of starting in on the bikes, the sleeves of his hoodie wet to the elbow, boots powder coated in dirt.
                  “Damn, son,” Candy said when he walked out and found him. The VP was grinning broadly. “Don’t you make a pretty car wash girl?”
                  It was the sort of remark that, had they been on equal footing, would have drawn a “fuck you” in response. But Colin could only grind his teeth and say, “Morning.”
                  “Morning,” Candy returned. “Grab your purse, princess, we’re going shopping.”
     
    ~*~
     
    Ned, who didn’t offer a last name, was a “collector,” according to Candy. He lived in a trailer in a dirt lot with two thirty-year-old Buicks parked under the adjacent carport. He came out to shake their hands, a white-haired, stoop-shouldered man who was approximately a thousand-years-old.
                  “C’mon back,” he told them, and led them around the side of the trailer…
                  To a wonderland of shiny steel. A huge metal hangar in back of the trailer housed rows of bikes, a true historical collection. Old Nortons, Indians, and Triumphs. A few army green numbers from the second World War. Several Beamers. And of course, the Harleys: everything from an old Knucklehead without a seat to a late model Night Rod airbrushed with green flames.
                  Colin traced a finger down the handlebars of a gorgeous old Bobber.
                  Candy came to stand beside him. “You wanna get something you’ll be comfortable on long distance,” he said quietly. “Go see what he’s got down there on that end.”
                  When Colin glanced over at him, the man winked.
                  Down on the end, a Night Train awaited him. Black, sleek, with minimal chrome. A modern day warhorse, begging to be touched.
                  Colin skimmed his hand down the fuel tank and shook his head. “There’s no way you wanna get this for me .” When there was no answer, he looked over again.
                  Candy studied him with narrowed blue eyes, his gaze hard to read. A measuring look. “Right now, yeah, I think I do. Just don’t make me regret it.”
                  Colin swallowed. “I won’t.”
     
    ~*~
     
    Jenny
     
    “…he sure as shit likes you .” The words had chased through her dreams last night. Or maybe they were nightmares.
                  He sure as shit likes you. She’d known that, yes, but hearing her brother say it made it official in a way she wasn’t ready for.
    Not that she cared.
    She didn’t care about the fact that her brother was buying Colin a bike. Not at all. She cared about the fact that her brother was going to use a shiny new bike as some sort of incentive to keep Colin hard-nosed on the job.
                  The unhappy tension under her skin had nothing to do with the mental image of six-feet-four-inches of Cajun gator hunter on the