The Uncertain Saint’s MC: Jack & Coke
Title: Jack & Coke
Series: Uncertain Saints MC, Book 2
Author: Lani Lynn Vale
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: May 6, 2016
Mig’s wife is a bitch.
How else do you describe a woman that lies, cheats and steals to get what she wants?
That’s exactly what happens when she traps him into a marriage he wants nothing to do with, saddling him with a kid that he knows doesn’t deserve to be in a world like his.
He’s doing a pretty bang-up job at ignoring everything but his responsibilities as a DEA officer and a member of The Uncertain Saints MC.
Then his neighbor knocks on his door, and everything he thought he knew is blown out the window.
Annie teaches Mig that not every woman is out to get him.
Her love for Mig stretches past what’s appropriate for two friends, and Annie soon straddles that invisible boundary between appropriate and inappropriate.
Annie’s not a cheater, though.
When she tries to say goodbye, Mig won’t let her leave, and soon the tiny town of Uncertain blows up with the news of Annie and Mig’s innocent friendship.
Matters of the heart are foreign to Mig, and it takes Annie being gutted for him to see the wrong he’s done.
He waits too long, though, and Annie’s heart is broken.
She wants it all, or she wants nothing. She can’t take anymore half-hearted attempts at being just friends.
The heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t take long for Mig to realize that.
But just when Mig finally has it all in the palm of his hand, his life is ripped to shreds by a new player in the game, and it takes all of Annie’s love and devotion, as well as help from the men of The Uncertain Saints MC, to put Mig back together again.
“Go get the door for the policemen I can see outside,” I called. “And tell them you have a DEA Agent in your house so they don’t try to shoot me when they enter.”
“I already did,” I heard Annie say as she got closer.
I saw her only a few seconds before she disappeared around the edge of the hallway into the entry way beyond it. Then the door was unchained, unlocked, and swung open. Three cops were the next to enter, and I nodded at the one I knew.
“Hey there, Officer Kirkpatrick,” I called to my good friend. We had drinks every week, sometimes multiple times a week. I had to do some creative thinking to get away from my wife, and Officer Kirkpatrick, a.k.a. Bullseye, was one of them. Well, I didn’t do him…but I hung out with him. Often. And Bullseye had a hell of a wife that didn’t care if I was over there as much as I was.
“What’s shakin’?” Bullseye asked.
“These two men here decided to break into Annie’s house. I’m just here making sure that they don’t get off with anything valuable,” I answered.
The other officer, Antonio Juarez, I didn’t know very well. He was new, and hung out with the young’uns instead of us old folks. Well, I was thirty-four, which wasn’t ‘old’ per se, but it sure as fuck wasn’t young, either.
“What’s that in his hand?” Juarez asked.
I looked down at Howard Ryan’s hand, and narrowed my eyes. “That’s Annie’s purse,” I answered. Annie’s ‘purse’ was more of a beach bag, and I didn’t know how the hell she found anything in it. But I wouldn’t know what to do with her if she didn’t have it with her. She’d been able to supply me with an ice pack, and a water on two different occasions, so I wasn’t one to complain when it was beneficial to me.
“Well, boys, let’s go for a ride downtown,” Bullseye said, walking behind Howard Ryan and handcuffing him. Ryan shot me an evil look as he left, promising retribution, and I smiled at him. Bring it, little boy. You can’t handle this, my look said.
Forty-five minutes later, the cops were leaving with both men in the back of two separate cars, and I was left standing on Annie’s front porch with her next to me.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at me with all sorts of promises in her eyes. I touched my fingertips to her cheek and smiled down at her. God, she was beautiful. Long, wavy brown hair that went down to her mid back. Beautiful, full lips. A smokin’ ass. Light brown skin that was nearly the color of mine. She wasn’t Italian like me, though. She was Puerto Rican, and she wouldn’t let anyone call her otherwise.
I’d give anything to be with her but my life, and name, belonged to my wife. God, if there was any way I could rewind a year, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I would’ve never invited my now wife, Jennifer, to the club party.
Jennifer was the exact opposite of Annie. Rude, opinionated, and selfish. Now she was six months pregnant with my child, and I hated every fucking second of my life.
“You’re welcome,” I said roughly. “I’m gonna have a few men over here in the next few days to install an alarm and make sure nobody can ever do that to you again.”
“Mig, what the ever loving fuck are you doing over there?” My wife screeched.
I winced and slowly dropped my hand, looking over at Jennifer like one would a pile of fish heads and vomit. Then I turned around when I saw she was dressed in little to nothing. How not surprising.