I ran toward the bleeding man. That’s who I am.
Reese Sullivan is a nurse in Coldwater, Colorado, where the Iron Ridge MC is infrastructure, not a background noise. She’s treated their people for two years without asking questions. When she runs toward a Cinder Kings beating on the edge of town and Grave pulls her out of that parking lot, she’s already inside the circle. When his hands touch her face in the cold October air, she’s already choosing him.
Gary “Grave” is forty-eight, Sergeant at Arms, and built for the work his hands do. He hasn’t let anyone close in nineteen years. He doesn’t soften. He doesn’t bend the club for a woman. But Reese gives him her number three seconds after he asks, says his real name like she has a right to it, and rises toward him like she’s already decided.
She knows what his hands do. She wants them on her anyway. The age gap is twenty years. The wanting doesn’t go away.
*She runs toward damage. He is the damage.*
Age gap, MC biker romance, curvy heroine, possessive alpha hero, explicit steamy, motorcycle club, Iron Ridge MC, standalone with HEA guaranteed.
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