Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) Read online

  MAKING CHOICES (BLACK SHAMROCKS MC #2)

  Copyright © 2015 Kylie Hillman

  Published by Kylie Hillman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Kylie Hillman 2015 https://www.kyliehillman.com

  Cover Design: Judi Perkins at Concierge Designs http://www.clpromotionsky.net/

  Proofreading by: Max Henry at Max Effect http://formaxeffect.com/

  Line Editing by: Marti Lynch https://www.twitter.com/MartiLynchEdits

  Copy Editing by: Cassia Brightmore http://deliciouslywickedbooks.com/

  Formatting by: Max Henry at Max Effect http://formaxeffect.com/

  Images in Manuscript: Shutterstock https://shutterstock.com

  Cover Images: Judi Perkins at Concierge Designs http://www.clpromotionsky.net/

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Contact Kylie

  Also by Kylie

  DISCLAIMER

  This story isn’t suitable for those who do not enjoy dark romance. It contains graphic depictions of events that may be triggering for some.

  Please consider yourself warned.

  However, if you chose to delve into this story, you will find that all issues are approached with sensitivity and real life reflections.

  This book is book two in an anticipated series of five books. It does not contain a cliffhanger or a happily ever after, but rather a happy-for-now ending that will be continued in the next book. It can be read as a stand-alone story if desired, although events and characters from the first book are referenced.

  I hope you love the characters as much as I do, and enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  DEDICATION

  To the beautiful, courageous, and kind-spirited Elaine Holcomb.

  Your words of wisdom when discussing Timber’s “proclivities” as well as your matter-of-fact explanations were appreciated immensely, as is your gracious friendship and unwavering support. You’re definitely one-of-a-kind and I’m lucky to know you.

  Keep fighting the good fight xx

  “In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take, relationships we were afraid to have, and the decisions we waited too long to make.” Lewis Carroll

  Everything in life comes down to choices. Big choices, little choices, choices that seem insignificant at the time but end up having a significant impact on our life, and choices that we know are going to change things for us in the biggest way.

  Smart people—educated, well-raised people—like me make choices with rationality. We make choices by weighing up the pros and cons, by analyzing every potential outcome, and by removing emotion and fear from the equation.

  Is love a choice? Can you make a choice whether or not to love someone? Or is it a decision that’s taken out of our hands by a combination of hormonal fluctuations and our addiction to them, emotion-led instinct, and a micro-moment of positive resonance that transcends all logic and common sense?

  I was certain that as a logical, educated, and composed woman, I would eventually love the person who was the best fit for my career aspirations. The person who would complement my vision for my life. The person who would meet my parents’ exacting expectations.

  As a logical, educated, and composed person, I didn’t believe that I would ever regret my choices. If I was honest, I thought I was too smart to end up with significant regrets.

  How wrong was I?

  LUCAS

  Present Day

  “I knew it!” A small, angry voice interrupts me as I’m watching Maddi walk down the hallway to her bedroom and the—potentially unwanted—surprise that awaits her.

  Swinging from my spot on the couch to face the French doors that lead to the alfresco area, I’m greeted by an irate JJ. She’s staring at me with her hands on her tiny hips, her ruby-red lips pressed tight. The fury that emanates from her makes her dark-red hair appear more intense than usual, her ire helping her appear taller than her just over five feet.

  “You know what?” My heart’s thudding in my chest. Fuck. I hope she doesn’t say what I think she’s going to say.

  I don’t want to deal with this tonight—or any night.

  Clenching her hands into fists when I rise from the couch and walk toward her, she spits her answer at me through clenched teeth. “That you’re in love with Maddi, Lucas. I’ve been watching you with her for months. Ever since she moved in with you when Mad Dog dumped her perfect ass, you’ve pined after her like a bloody, love-sick fool hoping she’ll give you her attention.”

  “You know nothing. It’s not like that.”

  I want to defend myself further, but I can’t. I’m not guilty of everything she’s assuming, but I am guilty. What JJ doesn’t understand is her place in the convoluted mess of my emotions.

  “Why do you care anyway? We’ve been playing this cat-and-mouse game that you love so fucking much for the last six months. Didn’t you tell me we were finished last night?”

  Shuffling on the spot, she drops her gaze from my eyes and studies the cream tiles on the kitchen floor as if they hold the answer to my questions.

  “I came over to apologize. I didn’t expect to find you with Maddi on your lap. And I didn’t expect to hear you tell her that you’d love a shot with her. Damn, Lucas, she called you my dirty little secret. Is that how you feel?”

  “It is. You fucking know it is.”

  “That’s not fair. I’ve told you why...”

  “Yeah, thanks for the warning. You’re a true friend!” My best female friend’s pissed-off voice interrupts JJ’s attempted justifications when she yells from her room. I hold up one finger to silence the seething woman in front of me and yell in response, “Anytime, Princess!”

  Even in the face of JJ’s anger, I can’t help the booming laughter that rumbles from my chest. She’s obviously found Mad Dog waiting in her bedroom, ready to ambush her and finally talk her into taking him back. As much as I wish otherwise,
she’s made for him, and he’s perfect for her. They just needed someone to give them a push to sort out their shit once and for all—a push I’m happy to provide. Maybe happy is the wrong word? It’s more like a push I feel obliged to provide.

  “What the hell is that about?” JJ asks in a frosty tone once my laughter dies down.

  “That was about the surprise waiting for her in her room.”

  Raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me, she sneers. “The surprise being Mad Dog?”

  “Yep.”

  Turning my back to her, I walk to the fridge and pull out a beer. Cracking the top, I drink half of it down in one go. I’m confused as fuck. I don’t know how I feel about this whole situation. I’m happy that Maddi hasn’t sent him packing yet, but the part that will always wonder if we would have stood a chance won’t shut up.

  How I feel about JJ isn’t helping matters, and neither are her bloody hang-ups.

  “You’re a piece of work, you know? A real fucked-up individual.”

  Straightening my shoulders, I face her. “Tell me how you really feel, Doll! You’re fucking awesome at telling me how I’m wrong about everything, so let’s lay it all out. Let’s sort this shit out once and for all.”

  As she stands there swallowing hard in the face of my ferocity, I continue. “You don’t get to barge into my house after you threw my feelings for you in my fucking face last night and then cuss me out for looking out for my best friends. Whatever it is you think is going on here, you’re fucking wrong. All I’ve done is put everyone else’s happiness in front of mine, and I’m fucking over it. Princess and Mad Dog will sort their shit out, so how about you sort yours out. You gonna tell Daddy about us, or are we over and fucking done for good? Those are the options here. All or nothing!”

  As I come to the crux of our problems, JJ bites her bottom lip so hard that I’m scared she’s going to draw blood. She can throw all the shit she wants at me about my feelings for Maddi, but I’ve done fuck all wrong. I’ve chased this woman for six months—breaking every fucking one of my rules along the way. I’ve kept quiet about us, even going as far as pretending that we aren’t fucking six ways to Sunday when we’re in front of anyone she knows.

  Fuck, I’ve even hidden in her bedroom when her parents have turned up at her place unexpectedly. In return, I’ve introduced her to my Club, and they’ve all taken her into our family. She’s even been to my parents’ for our monthly Sunday roast lunch.

  A place I’ve only ever taken one other woman.

  All I asked last night was that she finally acknowledge we’re more than a fucking fling. That went down well, resulting in a temper tantrum about me pushing her too fucking fast. Instead of listening to what I had to say like a bloody adult, she told me it was too hard and that we couldn’t see each other anymore.

  Then she stormed off.

  I’d decided then and there that I wasn’t chasing her anymore, so I’d left her alone today and was planning to do so from now on. There are only so many times I’m willing to bang my head against a brick wall before I give up.

  Throughout the day, I’d slowly wrapped my head around the end of whatever the fuck it was that we had, only to have her come here tonight to fuck with my head again, jumping to conclusions that weren’t hers to make anymore.

  Finishing my beer, I throw the empty bottle in the recycle bin before verbally prodding her again.

  “You gonna stand there all night chewing on that luscious lip of yours? Or am I gonna get a straight answer?”

  Sighing, she finally removes her teeth from her lip. “I need to think, Lucas. I came here to apologize, even though nothing’s changed. You want serious, and I can’t give you that...yet.”

  “Bullshit. You can, but you won’t. Too scared of what everyone else thinks—that’s what you are.”

  Approaching me as if I’m a wild animal she’s unsure of, JJ lifts herself up onto her tiptoes, and grabs me by the front of my shirt. She tugs hard, and after a moment’s hesitation, I lean down to her.

  “I need time.” She breathes her words over my face before she touches her lips to mine. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pick her up, push her against the wall, and kiss her back before planting myself inside of her warm body.

  Instead of giving in to my growing need, I pull back from her mouth.

  “Six months is plenty of time.”

  Her pretty, hope-filled face shuts down, and the professional mask she wears at work drops into place. Awesome. Here comes cold, calculating JJ.

  “No, it’s not. I’ve told you it’s not. I need more time.”

  Shaking my head at her, I gently push her away from me, toward the French doors that she entered through. She doesn’t even attempt to struggle to stay with me, heightening my doubts of the success of what I’m about to offer.

  “One week, Doll. That’s it.” This ultimatum is going to bite me in the ass—I can feel it—but I need to do this. I’ve been burned before. Actually, I was more than burned—I was fucking incinerated.

  I need upfront promises before I go down this road with another woman with daddy issues. “You’ve got one week. I’ll leave you alone for one week. So go home now, JJ, and think about how it felt when we met. Think about how good we are together. Think about how you feel when we’re apart. And when your week’s up, I’ll come find you. Then you can tell me if those feelings outweigh your Daddy being upset with you.”

  When I emphasize the word “Daddy” she winces. It’s a low blow, but she’s supposed to be a grown woman. I need to know if she’ll ever be all in with me.

  “All right, Lucas. I will. But you need to do one thing for me during this week.”

  Fuck knows what else she wants from me.

  I’ve done everything she’s asked of me, even when it’s chafed against my need to be straightforward.

  “Anything, Doll.”

  Walking to the French doors, she pauses with her hand on the door handle.

  “I want you to figure out if I’m more important to you than Maddi. If I have to deal with the fall-out from my family for you, then I refuse to play second fiddle to her.”

  JJ doesn’t wait for my answer. She simply walks out the door, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.

  Fuck.

  JJ

  Present Day

  Why does he have to be so impossible?

  Throwing my keys on the dining room table, I pull open the fridge door, and mimicking Lucas’s earlier actions, grab a bottle of chilled white wine so I can pour myself a glass.

  Sipping it, I run through what happened with him tonight, culminating in a damn ultimatum. An ultimatum that’s going to cost me something I want, no matter which option I choose.

  Seeing Maddi, or Princess as Lucas calls her, straddling his lap, and pressing her lithe yet curvy body against his as she kissed him, killed me. Watching her run her hands through his hair made me want to break all of her fingers, and observing the way they looked at each other with a love that I’ve never been on the receiving end of caused the desire to scratch out her bright blue eyes to nearly overwhelm me. The final injury rendered to my psyche, was listening to the longing in the words he used to soothe the beautiful, upset woman.

  The woman I now hate.

  Remembering his earnest words brings unwanted tears to my eyes.

  This whole scenario is foreign to me. Not once have I had a reaction to another woman touching a man I’m interested in, and seldom have I cared enough about what they had to say or what they felt to stick around for an argument.

  It’s always been my way or the highway.

  Lucas knocks me right out of my comfort zone.

  His stupid ultimatum is going to keep me from sleeping tonight, which, coupled with the sleepless night I had after our argument yesterday, isn’t a good recipe for optimal performance in someone who needs her faculties operating at full speed every day.

  BEEP.

  Placing my now empty glass of wine on the counter, I fis
h my phone out of my leather satchel. Pathetic hope that it’ll be Lucas rises within me, only to be doused when I realize it’s my mother.

  MOTHER: Your father is not happy with the reports he received regarding your performance today, young lady. He will be calling to discuss when he gets home in half an hour.

  Well isn’t that just great?

  On top of my relationship—or lack thereof—problems, I now get to look forward to becoming the victim of one of my father’s famous character assassinations. It could be regarding anything since there’s no limit to what he’s heard about me during his fortnightly “boys-only catch-up” with our mutual colleagues.

  ME: Sounds ominous?

  MOTHER: I’m so disappointed in you. We all are!

  There’s little point engaging with her any further, so I throw my phone onto the table. She’ll never go behind my father’s back to give me a heads up. And she’ll never take my side over his. My parents are the poster children for perfect team parenting—my mother a stereotypical Stepford wife.

  Grabbing my bottle of wine and empty glass, I head for my living room.

  Maybe I can find sanctuary from my problems with Lucas and my father’s imminent phone call in the mindless drivel of my favorite reality show.

  Unfortunately, I’m unable to distract myself for very long. Not even ten minutes later, my phone’s ringing and I’m running to answer it. One does not keep my father waiting without consequences when he knows you’ve been made aware of his intention to call.

  “Hello, Daddy,” I answer, slightly breathless from my sprint to the dining table.

  “Juliette Jane Patrice. What is this nonsense I hear about you carousing with outlaw biker gangs and allowing them to threaten Oliver Carter? Surely a young woman raised in the manner of yourself would have more sense? Are you deliberately trying to derail your career and embarrass me?”

  Shit!

  Of all the things I expected him to rant at me about tonight, this wasn’t one of them.

  Nobody knows I’ve been seeing Lucas. And as for his Club threatening Ollie, that’s not an accurate account of what really happened.

  “Now, Daddy...” I find myself cringing when I call him Daddy—something that’s only started since Lucas and his pointed comments about a woman my age addressing her father by such a juvenile title. “I’m not sure what Ollie has told you, but—"