Free Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) by Paula Marinaro Page B

definitely not be repeated.”
    Before Jules could respond, the screen door slammed hard, leaving Hal in the threshold of the doorway. He looked impassively from his sister to Jules then back again.
    “So you two good?”
    “Yeah, we’re good.” Jules moved quickly to Glory’s left, snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.
    Stunned, Glory could do no more than nod in agreement.
    When she saw a small look of satisfaction flash between her brother and Jules, she moved away quickly, almost choking on the nerve of the two of them. Glory searched her brother’s eyes for the slightest indication of remorse or even apology for what had been a definite set up. A plan that had everything to do with Hal and Jules—his newly arrived-on the-scene, badass bestie—and absolutely nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with the sister who had been by her brother’s side through thick and thin from the beginning.
    Well, so much for gratitude. Glory thought.
    Then she took one more look at the two co-conspirators, walked out the door and slammed it hard behind her.
     
     

Chapter 11
     
    Even though Glory tried her best to dismiss and ignore Jules’s larger than life hulking presence, she was losing that battle. And really he was doing nothing to make it easier. Every time Glory turned around Jules seemed to be there.
    Sweating
    And flexing
    And groaning
    Oh my
    To her utter embarrassment Jules had caught her more than once pausing and gazing at him from the shadows of the arched doorway. She couldn’t help but stop and admire the way the muscles played under his skin as he lifted the impossible looking weights or worked the heavy bag like it was filled with duck feathers.
    To make matters worse, and to her eternal mortification, whenever Jules caught Glory watching him he would stop mid-motion and look back at her with such heated intensity that her face flushed and her cheeks reddened embarrassingly.
    Oh boy
    One day just as Jules was about to leave, he paused in the middle of the room and tilted his head. Glory, who happened to be behind him with a basket full of laundry, had to stop short to avoid running into him. She stood on tippy-toes and tried in vain to look over his wide shoulders, curious as to what could have caught his interest.
    “What’s that?” Jules turned and asked her.
    “What’s what?”
    He nodded to the corner of the kitchen where an antique bucket sat almost hidden from view on the top shelf of the cupboard.
    “It’s an old fashioned ice cream maker,” Glory told him and fought the confusing urge to hide it from his view.
    “Huh. An ice cream maker? No shit?” Jules raised an eyebrow. He walked over, reached up and placed the bucket on the counter.
    Glory frowned slightly as she looked at the hand cranked device. It had been her one and only purchase during her many trips to the pawn shop back in Maryland. It hadn’t been in very good shape, and in the age of electric everything, Mack had sold it to her for practically nothing. She really wasn’t sure what possessed her to buy it. The narrow steel bands that circled the wooden slats had been all rusted, the paint had worn away in large patches and the crank handle had been heavy, and stiff from lack of use. But none of that had mattered to Glory, she only knew that once she had wrapped her arms around the heavy, awkward mixer she had not been able to let it go. She took it home, cleaned it up and sat it on her kitchen shelf where it became a catchall for things she did not want to lose.
    “Where’d ya get it?” Jules was turning the bucket with rapt attention.
    “Fast Eddie’s,” Glory told him.
    “Who’s Fast Eddie?” Jules shot out, making no attempt to keep the tone of jealousy out of his voice.
    Glory regarded him in surprise.
    “It’s Fast Eddie ’s , with an s . And Fast Eddie’s isn’t a who , Jules. Fast Eddie’s is a what .”
    When Jules scowled his confusion, Glory offered an explanation, “It’s the