Free Tastes Like Candy (Lean Dogs Legacy Book 2) by Lauren Gilley Page A

don’t trust you. It’s nothing personal, sweetheart,” he assured. “That’s just how I’m wired. But I trust your uncles completely. So if they say you’re the girl for the job, then I know you are.”
                  It was hope-dashing and comforting all at once. “Well…”
                  “I don’t have a problem with women. I’ve got nothing to prove,” he said, and though it should have come across as cocky, was somehow just authentic.
                  No, she decided, big, and handsome, and in charge of his club – he wasn’t trying to prove a damn thing to anyone. A real leader, like Dad. Content to allow her to be a cog in the machine. She breathed a deep, relieved sigh.
                  “Thank you.”
                  His golden brows lifted. “I didn’t do anything.”
                  “You didn’t call me a stupid bitch and tell me to go cook somebody something. So you did a lot.”
                  This time, his smile was just a smile, blue eyes scrunching, lines pressing deep in their corners. She’d always found something so appealing and honest about the way the wind and sun weathered bikers’ faces. Real men, unfiltered and imperfect, stunning to behold.
                  “Can you have something drawn up for me by lunch tomorrow?”
                  “Before then, I’m sure.”
                  “Good.” He clapped his hands together with a certain finality and stood. “I’ll see you then.”
                  “Candy,” she said, when he was at the door. It felt strange and thrilling to have his name in her mouth like that. An unexpected drop of sweet on her tongue. She had to swallow, as he twisted to look back at her. “Thank you, too, for letting me come. I don’t know where else I would have gone. I don’t even know where Tommy is now.”
                  His expression softened. “He’s safe though, yeah?”
                  She nodded.             
                  “So are you. It’ll be alright.”
     
    ~*~
     
    She worked until the numbers blurred in front of her eyes, and then she realized it was dinnertime. Just as well. The less time she had left in the day, the less time she could waste dwelling on home and things she couldn’t change. Bolstered by her talk with Candy earlier, she followed the scent of roasting meat to the common room.
                  Darla was just stepping out of the kitchen and intercepted her, a plate in her hands. “Ah, here, you have this one. I’ll get another for Pup.”
                  “Darla, really, you don’t have to, and I’d be happy to help.”
                  “I wouldn’t hear of it. Go eat. Good Lord, you’ve been shut up in that office all day. Did you even get lunch?”
                  “No, ma’am.”
                  “Then you sure aren’t helping with dinner! Shoo.”
                  Plate of steaming pot roast in-hand, she went in to find a seat. The men sat in twos and threes at the tables, half-watching TV, chatting. If she was at home, she would have found one of her uncles and plunked down beside him, unselfconscious and eager for conversation. But she felt uneasy with strangers, and so sat down at the bar, alone.
                  But she wasn’t alone long.
                  One of the members whose name she couldn’t remember climbed onto the stool beside her. Turned to her, his appraisal bold – not the way Candy’s had been, not authoritative and intense, but speculative and flirtatious. Handsome in an obvious way. Dark hair, sharp hazel eyes, and a dangerous smile. Early thirties, cocksure and invincible.
                  She wanted to dislike him on impulse, but made a conscious effort to reserve