Michaels: Northern Grizzlies MC (Book 5)

by M. Merin

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and/or being used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations are entirely coincidental.

  Michaels: Northern Grizzlies MC (Book 5)

  Copyright 2018 Maura O’Brien

  Cover Art by Madelene Martin www.madbookdesigns.com

  Edited by Laura Iverson

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced without the written permission of the author. This ebook 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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase, or it was not purchased for your use only then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Michaels:

  Northern Grizzlies MC

  (Book 5)

  M. Merin

  Less than five months ago, I hit ‘publish’ on my first book.

  Every day since then I’ve been so grateful for all the kind emails and facebook messages I’ve received.

  XO, Merin

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Late summer 2018

  Tabitha

  Driving across the States has been amazing. Most of my previous travels were to other large cities on one of the Coasts, or backpacking through Europe—while staying in four star hotels, of course. I’ve worked hard and traveled to reward myself, but thirty is closing in and I know I want more than the life my family is so proud of.

  I was never as brave as my brother, Jarrett—or Jake as he’s long insisted on being called. It was easier to go with the flow of my family’s expectations than to chart my own course. Although, I tried to in small ways. Being an OB/GYN is a twenty-four seven kind of job. ‘Unseemly’ my mother once said. Through years of school, training, and setting up my practice, I was constantly called away from family events or galas.

  Most of the time that was a relief, especially when twenty-five hit and mother was desperate for me to marry. The worst part of all the eligible men that she would invite over was the looks they’d throw my sisters when they thought I wasn’t looking.

  Jake and I really are cut from a different cloth than the rest of the family. While he has their height, he and I share the same dark hair and grey eyes. Where the others are blonde, tall, and thin, I am short and plump. Well, curvy is the popular word nowadays. Whatever. When I find a pair of jeans that flatter my thighs and ass, I buy a half-dozen of them. I suspect that Jake’s wife and I are both D cups, but hers are more obvious because she’s thin.

  During our other brother’s wedding, I was secretly entertaining options from several hospitals ready to have my own adventure. After meeting Charlie and seeing how damn hot Connal is, I called the hospital in Rowansville to accept their offer. It was a huge pay cut from anything I was accustomed to, but the cost of living in that area justified it.

  The rest of the family was ready to disregard Charlie but I was thrilled to hear about her. When Jake spoke about her, he was the happiest I’d ever heard him. That was enough for me. Then he told me about her background, and I respected the hell out of her. No longer minding that she was so thin next to me, that there were times she had trouble affording food and other necessities. That was a far cry from my sisters who would spend hours on the treadmill.

  My parents and Gramps blew up when I made my announcement. I expected it, and just shrugged away their concerns.

  So here I am, slowing driving across country, waiting for my brother to freaking return my calls.

  *

  Pulling into Rowansville, I’m excited to finally see the town I’ve chosen to live in. Pulling off the highway, past the charred remains of a motel and following the GPS to Jake’s address, the sight of a picturesque town’s square surrounded by cute stores is a relief after a few shoddy looking blocks. Desperate for coffee, I pull into a local diner and spend more time than I planned – chatting with the waitress.

  Getting past the town center, there is more and more space between the homes and I finally pull into what I hope is Jake and Charlie’s driveway. Popping out, I stretch my legs before knocking on the door.

  Waiting a while, I knock again. A motorcycle and a truck are parked off to the side, so they must be home. I finally hear a muffled voice call out, “Just be a minute, Baby Girl!” before a nearly naked Connal opens the door.

  My jaw drops, taking in his firm body, clad only in boxers. He looks as shocked as I feel, right before nausea sets in. What is he doing here? Like that?

  “I only see one bike, is Jake here?” I ask, trying to ignore the tears that well up in my eyes.

  “Uh, no,” he stutters. “Did he know you were coming?”

  “I left him a voicemail when I found out that I…”

  “Connal, who is it?” I hear Charlie call out a moment before I see her. She’s still fastening the belt on her robe but it’s pretty obvious she’s naked underneath.

  “What the hell?!” I cry out, my head swiveling between Charlie and Connal.

  “Tabby! What are you doing here?” Charlie starts towards me, stopping short when she sees the look on my face. “Did Jake know you were coming?”

  “Looks like there are a couple things Jake doesn’t know!” I yell at them before turning back to my SUV. “How could either of you do this to him?”

  “Tabby,” Connal finally speaks. “It’s not what you think it is. Just come inside and we’ll call Jake.”

  “Oh, I’m calling him alright! Until he answers his goddamn phone, this time!” I continuing screaming at them as I get back into my truck.

  Looking at them again, I lean over and take a picture for good measure right before I start dialing Jake frantically.

  At the third try, he finally picks up.

  “Tabs,” he says calmly.

  “Jake?” Shit, I can’t stop the tears that flood my eyes. “Oh my God, I’m at your house. I’m so sorry. I don’t think you got my messages?”

  “Tabitha!” He snaps to get my attention. “Everything is alright. Go back inside and wait for me. I’ll explain when I get there.”

  “You don’t understand! Connal and that little whore are sleeping together,” I sob out. “I’m so sorry, Jake, but it’s true.”

  “Tabby, don’t call her that! Let me explain. Just don’t drive when you’re upset,” he pleads with me. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Before I know it, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I can’t go back into that house with those assholes so I’ll just drive to clear my head, then get Jake to meet me alone.

  Michaels

  Fuck. My days off sped by and the next ones couldn’t come fast enough. I o
nly take two days every two weeks. Technically, I’m still on call whether it’s my shift or not, but that’s to be expected in a small town. On my time off, I go to Boise to see my girl. Well, not that she’s really mine.

  I spend both days with her, but the night between. Well, the hotel bar is usually full of easy pickings. When I feel like it.

  These last few trips, I was just happy to rest, so I skipped the bar scene altogether.

  The pressure from the Governor’s office to bust any and all members of the Northern Grizzlies has been off the charts. They don’t understand. The MC members act like fucking saints around Rowansville. I mean I saw one of them, a mean-ass motherfucker, stopping to help an old lady unloading her groceries a couple weeks back.

  The Maddocks’ think that busting the MC should be the easiest thing on the planet. They underestimate Flint and his protégé, Jasper, at every turn. Then ‘Rome’ really went up in flames when their neglected princess ran off with the MC’s Sergeant at Arms, Gunner.

  One piece of the puzzle that I’m missing is how fucking Eileen Riley – Ann Maddock’s mother – goes to bat for Gunner, time and again. She owns slightly more of this town than the MC and she happily spit in her daughter and son-in-law’s faces by hosting her granddaughter’s wedding to Gunner in her living room. She even invited the photographer for the local paper to attend.

  Margie, at Ray’s Diner, had the newspaper clipping framed and on the wall over there before anyone could blink. She’s another town treasure who adores the idea of Riley and Gunner.

  Checking into the station after my days off draws smirks and innuendo from all the deputies and patrol team. They know how much tail I could get around town if I wanted it, so they’ve made the leap that I do my fucking around elsewhere.

  “How ya doing, Sheriff?” Ellie calls from the front desk. She more or less plays mother hen to all of us, being fifteen or so years older than I am.

  “Just fine, Ellie. You keeping these boys and girls in-line for me?” I toss her a wink as I’m walking past.

  “Someone has to!” We share the same exchange and a chuckle every two weeks.

  After the reports from the Sergeants, and halfway through the dreaded paperwork on my desk, there’s a knock on my door.

  “Since when do you knock, Ellie?” I laugh when I see it’s her, but grow quiet when she closes the door behind her. “No more problems with your ex, I hope?”

  “No, I have that under control,” she smiles to herself in such a way that I figure it’d be better if I don’t ask. “I want to cut my hours, Sheriff. I figure we can extend the hours of the later shifts. They aren’t all full time. Jessa is doing really well on the night shift and she could really use the hours and the benefits if you don’t mind me interfering. I checked with Andrea and she wants to stay part-time, so her nose won’t get out of whack over it.”

  “What’s going on, Ellie?” knowing that her niece, Jessa, recently moved in with Ellie but I thought the hours agreed with both of them.

  “This isn’t meant to be common knowledge, Sheriff, but it turns out Jessa didn’t come to town alone,” Ellie says and I try to figure out what the hell she means. She finally continues after taking in the blank look on my face, “It just so happens that she’s pregnant. The father won’t be involved so she needs the insurance and pay.”

  “What’s his name?” I plow ahead, feeling sorry for the girl who has worked so hard, both here and at a local store part time. Thinking the least I can do is track him down for some child support.

  “I don’t get the impression she knows much about him and she hasn’t said his name. And trust me, the gentleman I’ve been spending time with has asked,” Ellie says, blushing like a woman forty years younger than she is.

  “That sounds very ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’, Ellie,” I grin at her. “Who you been seeing?”

  “None of your business,” she nearly snaps at me, causing me to lean back and reassess her. We’ve always had good give-and-take, so I’m surprised by her tone.

  “I’ll run the numbers and see if we can make it work. You alright losing some of your benefits though?”

  “I’ve already run the numbers. I sent them to you right before I came in,” she raises an eyebrow at me. Of course, she did. Ellie could actually run this town singlehandedly, if she cared to.

  “I’m going to take a drive around the area when I finish with this shit, call me if anything happens,” I tell her in dismissal.

  “Sheriff,” Ellie turns from the door. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “My bad, Ellie,” I quickly cut her off.

  Heading out shortly after talking to Ellie, I drive around town a bit before heading out to one of the quiet roads near the edge of my jurisdiction. Hoping for a little nap, I turn my 2-way radio up so I’ll hear it if I get a call, then I immediately start to drift off.

  Chapter 2

  Michaels

  “Fuck!” I yell out in my rocking truck. I’d been sideswiped with my mirror torn off. Ahead of me, there’s a Tahoe angling for a tree. I’m still trying to shake the sleep away when I hear the sickening crunch of its impact.

  Putting my shoulder into the slightly dented door to get it open, I immediately jump out and start towards the crashed truck, hearing more metal screeching before the driver has the door cracked open enough to wiggle out of her seat.

  “Are you alright?” I call, my temper flaring. I haven’t seen the driver’s face yet but from the size of her, she doesn’t seem old enough to drive. “Do you need medical attention?”

  Her head whips around, and now, within ten feet of her, I can see she’s all woman. She may not be much more than five feet tall but large breasted with a nicely rounded ass and thighs—just the kind of woman I could sink into without worrying I’d hurt her. My eyes haven’t even hit her face yet and I belatedly realize she’s been talking.

  Unfortunately, it takes her palm making contact with my cheek to make that point. My head reeling, I grab her arm tightly and pin it to her truck and just barely getting out of the way of her knee coming up.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I roar. My eyes finally hit hers and it’s like looking at fury incarnate.

  “This may be the land that time forgot, but…” and she starts talking a mile a minute. I know I should be listening but her steel gray eyes are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. After a moment, I realize they’re puffy and red-rimmed. She isn’t crying now so she must have been when she sideswiped me.

  “Have you been drinking?” I almost cringe when I ask the question, but she hasn’t stopped talking and she did hit a parked car. Not a big leap to think she’s on something.

  “What?” she growls at me again.

  “Let me see your license.” My next line isn’t well received.

  “Are you even a real cop or did you get that badge at the mall you work at?” She sweeps her eyes down to take in my jeans and polo shirt with a badge pinned to it.

  “License. Now.” I snap back, letting go of the hand I had pinned against her truck.

  “It’s in my purse on the passenger side,” she answers after a moment.

  “Keys,” I nearly snarl at her. My body is wound tight and I’m an unfamiliar mix of pissed off and turned on as she deposits them into my hand. “Stay.”

  I walk around her truck, popping the lock, and doesn’t she start following me?

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “Stand at the back of the vehicle or I’m cuffing you,” I warn because there’s no way I’m turning my back on her. She looks at me, her eyes narrowed and I can see she’s trying to judge whether or not I would. So I take a step towards her.

  She immediately backs up, holding her hand up to stop me.

  I turn and reach in for her purse, noticing how stuffed her truck is and realizing she must be moving. I reach into her huge Louis Vuitton bag and snag the matching wallet, getting an outraged cry from her.

  Tabitha Isabel Forsythe from Massachu
setts. She’s a foot shorter than I am and, my eyes flick back over her form again. Ms. Forsythe lies about her weight.

  “Give me that!” she demands, holding her hand out to me.

  “Again, do you need any medical attention?” I ask, and she shakes her head at me. “I’ll get your ticket started. I just need your insurance information for damages. Will you be staying locally?”

  “What are you talking about? Your hazards weren’t even on and look where you’re parked! Are you trying to shake me down or something?”

  “Turn around. My truck is on the shoulder…” and, I’m cut off again. She takes a step towards me and all I can smell is mint and some sort of floral smell—her shampoo I’m sure. My eyes are on her plump lower lip as she’s talking a mile a minute. That lip just serves to remind me of her curvy ass.

  “Dammit!” I snarl as she hits me again. This time slapping her hand against my chest.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” Ms. Forsythe growls at me.

  Wait. Fuck. Forsythe. It’s not a completely uncommon name, but there’s only one around here.

  “Come on, Princess,” I growl, needing to know if she’s related to Jake and the MC by extension.

  “No!”

  “You’re gonna resist arrest, aren’t you, Princess?” I grin down at her, suddenly wanting to play with my handcuffs.

  “Don’t call me that. I have to call a tow truck. And I haven’t done anything to be arrested for,” she starts in but then races to keep up with my longer stride as I head to my truck.

  “You’ve hit me. Twice. And you may be driving under the influence,” I grin over my shoulder at her, dangling her purse out of reach when she tries to grab it. “None of that now, Princess.”

  “This is harassment!” she yells, kicking the back of my left leg.

  And I go down.

  Hard.

  Certainly harder than she expected if the cry from her lips is any indication. Goddamn, this leg. No matter how much yoga, weights, or running I do, my knee is my weak spot. It was destroyed during my junior year of college. I’m that small-town football hero, who lost everything in one play, kinda bullshit story.