Page 10 of Georgie (Sons of Hell MC #10)

Josie

The bell above the door jingled merrily, almost as if it knew the drama that was about to unfold.

Devlyn and I stepped into Beth’s coffee shop, a cozy haven in the heart of Rosewood.

The place was buzzing, as always. Beth’s coffee was like a magical elixir that drew the entire town to her door, and her baked goods.

Well, let’s just say she could give any baker a run for their money.

“You go grab us a seat,” Devlyn said, her eyes scanning the room. “I’ll get our coffee fix.”

She knew me well.

I made a beeline for a vacant booth at the back, sliding into it with a sigh of relief.

It was the perfect spot for a heart-to-heart, away from prying ears.

I knew Devlyn wasn’t just offering a caffeine fix; she wanted the tea—the gossip, the drama, and the lowdown on last night’s mattress mambo with my so-called best friend.

As I settled in, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation.

Devlyn had a way of getting the scoop, and I knew she wouldn’t rest until she had every juicy detail.

Little did I know, this coffee catch-up would unravel a tale of epic proportions, one that would become legendary in the annals of Rosewood’s gossip history.

“Oh good, you’re already here,” Morgan grumbled as she slowly lowered herself into the booth across from me. Wearing her PJs, a down winter coat, dark glasses, and Uggs, Morgan looked like she just rolled out of bed when she yawned and asked, “Where’s Dev?”

“Getting our order.”

Looking up, Morgan leaned over the table and yelled, “DEV!” as every head in the coffee shop turned to look. “Get me a double shot Americano with a cream cheese bagel!”

Covering my face in mortification, I lowered myself deeper into the booth, wishing it would swallow me whole, as Morgan sat back down and removed her sunglasses. Throwing them on the table, she huffed. “I am never drinking again.”

I smirked. “Until Friday, right?”

“You know me well,” Morgan groaned, laying her head on the table. “So why am I needed here at the ass crack of dawn?”

“You know why you’re here, Morgan,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“And could you keep your voice down? I don’t need the whole town knowing my business.

” I glanced around to see if anyone was listening, but most patrons were engrossed in their own conversations or lost in the comfort of their coffee cups.

“Besides, it’s not that early. The sun is up, and so are we. ”

Morgan groaned again, lifting her head from the table with a dramatic flourish.

“Fine, spill it. What’s the damn emergency that couldn’t wait until a more reasonable hour?

And why did you drag me out in my pajamas, no less?

” She gestured to her disheveled outfit, complete with bedhead hair tucked into a messy bun.

As I opened my mouth to tell her I didn’t call her, Devlyn slid into the booth beside me, her arms laden with trays of coffee and a plate of Beth’s famous cinnamon rolls.

“Here we go,” she said, setting the treats down with a flourish.

“Fuel for the gossip fire. Now, let’s get to the good stuff. Morgan, you look like shit.”

“Feel like it too,” she grumbled, reaching for her coffee.

“Okay, Josie.” Devlin grinned, placing my coffee in front of me. “Spill.”

“Spill what?” Morgan asked, looking between me and Dev.

“Our little straitlaced Josephine finally broke her celibacy streak last night.”

Morgan’s eyes widened as she smiled brilliantly. Leaning her head in her hand, she batted her eyelashes and cooed. “Oh, please tell me he was good.”

“Oh, I’m betting he was better than good.” Devlyn chuckled.

Knowing damn well neither woman would leave me alone until I gave them something, I leaned forward, looked around to make sure no one was listening, and whispered, “Let me just say this. If he was looking for a new specialty, he would be Board-Certified.”

Both women leaned back in the booth and grinned.

“Hell yeah.”

“You go, girl.”

“So, what’s next?” Dev asked.

“What do you mean?”

Frowning, Dev looked at Morgan, who looked confused and asked, “What do you mean? What do we mean? Your panties have been wet since you met the son of a bitch.”

“If you tell me that fucker bolted after he fucked your cobwebs away, I’m gonna cut off his dick and FedEx it to Louisiana.”

Looking down at my hands, I whispered, “I left him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Can you repeat that?”

Looking at them both, I said, “I left him.”

Their eyes widened in shock, seconds before their laughter filled the cozy haven of Beth’s coffee shop, causing a few heads to turn in our direction. I couldn’t help but join in, a mix of embarrassment and amusement washing over me.

“You two are impossible,” I said, shaking my head.

“Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you’re laughing like it’s a stand- up comedy show.

” I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the rich, aromatic flavor as I gathered my thoughts.

“But yes, I left him. I couldn’t stay after what happened.

It’s best if we just forget about it and move on. ”

Sobering, Morgan looked at Dev. “What’s the time?”

Looking at her watch, Devlyn replied, “Half past eight. They’re up.”

“Shower, food, and marching orders for the day. That means she’s got... what... forty-five minutes?”

“Maybe less, if he skips breakfast.”

“What in the world are you two talking about?”

Devlyn turned to look me dead in the eyes. “Josie. You slept with a brother in the Sons of Hell.”

“So?”

“He claimed you,” Devlyn whispered. “It’s all over town.”

Stiffening in my seat, I gasped. “What is?”

“After Mr. Munson’s funeral. George fought your ex and then claimed you right in front of the ski lodge.”

“In front of King no less.”

“You two are impossible,” I said, shaking my head in mock exasperation.

“Can’t you see I’m traumatized here? My heart is in pieces, scattered across the floor.

I screwed up my friendship with George. Made things more complicated, and all you can do is laugh and make light of the situation.

” I took a dramatic sip of my coffee, relishing the warmth of the cup in my hands and the comforting aroma of Beth’s perfectly brewed beans.

“Oh, come on, Josie,” Devlyn chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“You know we’re just giving you a hard time.

We’re your best friends, and we’re here to support you through this.

.. unique turn of events.” She leaned forward, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

“Besides, we all know you’ve had your eye on the good doctor for a while now.

Admit it, you loved every minute of it.”

I rolled my eyes, unable to hide the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Fine, maybe I did. But that doesn’t change the fact that things got a little... intense. And now, apparently, all of Rosewood knows about it.”

I glanced around the coffee shop, half-expecting to see whispering townsfolk pointing in our direction.

“Well, that’s what happens when you hook up with a member of the Sons of Hell,” Morgan piped up, a hint of amusement lurking beneath her feigned seriousness. “They don’t do things by halves. Oh, and would you look at that? He did skip breakfast.”

Turning fast, I watched as Dr. George Steiner walked into the coffee shop. The moment his eyes landed on mine, they narrowed as he made a beeline straight for me.

“Ooh!” I vaguely heard Morgan slur. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Before I could even say a word, George—who, let’s be honest, looked too damn good this early in the damn morning—hauled me from the booth.

His fingers, surprisingly nimble for someone who probably bench-pressed Volkswagens, cupped my face.

His aftershave... well, it was a heady mix of whiskey and something vaguely, sinfully delicious.

Then came the kiss.

Not a peck, not a smooch, but a full-on, nuclear-powered smooch. It tasted like sin, desperation, and possibly a hint of chocolate. It was the kind of kiss that made me question my life choices, my hairstyle, and my entire understanding of personal space—all at once.

“Now, that’s hot,” Devlyn announced, as if delivering a witty one-liner in a low-budget action movie.

I recoiled, intending a dramatic retreat worthy of a silent film heroine. But George, clearly not a fan of subtlety or silent films, had other plans because suddenly, I was airborne.

I’m talking full-on, over-the-shoulder carry, like a sack of particularly unruly potatoes.

My dignity? Gone with the wind.

George’s lips were a distraction, a delightful distraction, but a distraction, nonetheless.

I had intended to escape, to make a grand exit, but my plans were quite literally swept off their feet. Being carried by George was not an unpleasant experience, I’ll admit. His arms were strong, and the scent of whiskey and sin still lingered as he held me close.

Too close, perhaps, for my pounding heart.

But any protests were forgotten as he clearly announced to the coffee shop, “We’re leaving. Now.” His voice left no room for argument; it was a command, and one I found myself obeying without question.

Not like I had any choice in the matter, anyway.

Outside, the world seemed brighter, sharper.

The kiss must have affected my senses, because everything felt more intense.

The sun shone with a new vigor, and the cold breeze carried a hint of that familiar, delicious aftershave as George walked down the street.

As if lugging me over his shoulder was a familiar sight.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice a mix of mortification, protest, and a bit of curiosity.

His response... a sharp slap on my ass.

“I’m claiming what’s mine.”