Whiskey Neat Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Uncertain Saint’s MC #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Uncertain Saint's MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
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My mother yelled from the kitchen. “Who wants to try my cobbler? It’s going to be slammin’!”

I rolled my eyes at my mother’s use of the ‘hip’ language as she liked to call it.

My mother wasn’t old…per se.

She was, however, very stuck in her ways as a Southern Lady.

She used please and thank you, said ‘bless your heart’ and ‘you’re kidding’ way too much.

But I loved her anyway.

“I’ll try it,” Remy offered almost immediately.

“We will too, YaYa!” Macynn squealed.

I felt Griffin’s presence at my back, and looked up at him over my shoulder.

“Do you like peach cobbler?” I asked him.

His eyes, those beautiful baby blues, shined with mirth.

“Peach cobbler is fattening,” he told me.

I raised a brow at him.

“That didn’t answer the question,” I observed.

He grinned. “No, it didn’t, did it?”

I elbowed him softly in the belly.

It wasn’t a surprise that he would call that fattening.

With the way I remembered his body feeling pressed up against my back, it wasn’t in the least bit surprising that he’d be conscious of what he put into his body.

I pulled Griffin with me into my kitchen to see Remy, my mother, and the two girls crowded around my kitchen island.

“Who are you?” My mother asked excitedly as she looked up and saw Griffin.

“That’s Auntie Lennie’s boyfriend, YaYa!” Macynn crowed. “He’s hot!”

I covered my face with my hands and laughed into them as my mother came over instantly.

“I really wish my daughter would tell me about these important life decisions she makes. A couple of weeks ago she told me she was gay…you are most definitely a man. So I’m confused,” my mother said.

I laughed harder into my hands.

I had said that.

But only because she kept pestering me about finding a man.

It’d been only days after I’d first met Griffin. He’d rocked my world twice. Once by fucking me into oblivion, and second by holding me through the night.

I’d been in denial.

I didn’t think it’d ever be possible to go back from that.

Which was why I told my mother I was pretty sure I had to be gay if this thing with Griffin and me didn’t work out.

Because no one would be able to live up to all that was Griffin.

“My name is Ronda Lenore Drew. What’s your name?” My mother asked, extending her hand to Griffin.

I sighed and removed my hands from my face where I’d been peeking out at my mother.

Griffin shook my mother’s hand and said, “I’m Griffin Storm.”

“And what are you? A cowboy?” She asked, eyeing Griffin’s outfit.

He was dressed head to toe in his Texas Ranger’s gear.

Boots. Jeans. Cowboy hat. And Badge.

Although she couldn’t see the badge, yet.

“I’m a Texas Ranger,” he said, moving out from behind me so my mother could see his sparkly gold badge and gun at his hip.

My mother’s eyes widened.

“Holy cow, Lenore! You’ve hit the jackpot!” My mother cried loudly.

At that, I grabbed Griffin’s hand and led him into the kitchen.

I pointed to a seat at the end of the island, the only one left after Remy and his two girls took theirs, and walked around the counter into the kitchen.

“What does everyone want to drink? I have milk, water, tea, and coffee,” I said.

“Coffee,” Remy said.

“Water,” Griffin rumbled.

“Milk!” Both girls yelled.

I rolled my eyes.

I could’ve guessed all of those.

“So where did you meet my daughter?” My mother asked.

Griffin looked at me with amusement before he said, “I needed batteries and Uncertain Pleasures was the only thing open.”

My mother blushed as she dished up Remy’s plate first, followed shortly by the girls.

My mother didn’t disapprove of my business, but she also didn’t go blurting out what I did to everyone.

She was the quintessential Christian, always going to church every Sunday.

However, she was also proud of her daughter and supported her any way she could.

Even if she’d never stepped foot in my store once all the dildos were out on the shelves.

“Why didn’t you go to the store down the street from there? The Dollar Store is always open,” Remy murmured around his fork filled with cobbler.

“Closed due to power outage.” Griffin murmured, his eyes on the cobbler my mother was giving him.

She scooped a healthy amount onto another tea plate and set it down in front of him.

Griffin looked up at me with humor shining in his eyes, but nonetheless dug into his cobbler, finishing it even before Remy.

“Well, how is it?” My mother asked.

“Good,” Remy muttered. “I think the breading is a little too thick, though.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Griffin declared, leaning back to rub his taut belly.

My eyes followed his movements, and I wanted to scream at the injustice.

The man was in tip-top shape.

One plate of cobbler wasn’t going to hurt him in the slightest.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he worked out longer today because of it, too.

“Thank you, Griffin. Remy, why can’t you ever say anything nice like that?” My mother teased.

“Because I’m not a kiss ass,” Remy muttered under his breath.

Apparently the two men still had some hostility to work out.

“Actually,” he said. “My mother’s a state champion cobbler maker in Arkansas. I’ve tasted so many cobblers that I couldn’t even begin to tell you a number, and this one was close to perfect.”

My mother’s eyes lit up.

“Really? Who is your mother?” My mother asked, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

“Rayleigh Deen,” he answered.

My mother gasped.

“Your mother is not Rayleigh Deen!” My mother squealed. “Oh, my God! This is her recipe!”

Griffin grinned.

My eyes widened.

Griffin’s mother was somewhat of a famous celebrity, kind of like Wolfgang Puck and Emeril.

We’d never been without her cookbooks in my mother’s house, and I currently had three of them in my own cabinet not five feet away.

“Holy shit!” Remy exclaimed. “My mother watches her cooking show every Sunday.”

Griffin shrugged. “Reruns. She hasn’t filmed anything new for six months or so.”

“Why not?” I asked.

I regretted the question the moment the words were out of my mouth.

“Because of Tanner,” he said softly, pushing away from the counter and standing to his full height. “I’ve actually got to go. Duty calls.”


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