A Disturbing Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 1) | PREVIEW

Chapter 2: Olivia

"Are you sure you want to do this?" my sister Lucy asks me for the thousandth time. She lifts a man's shirt on its hanger from a rack and examines the price tag. It's one of those super soft henley shirts—the ones that belong on Calvin Klein models but look good on anyone.

I peg her with my best baby sister look, the wide-eyed "Please play Barbies with me" one. Works every time. She sighs, shaking her head.

"You're going to miss class, Livvie. And I don't know how long this is going to take." It's a half-hearted attempt. She tucks a curl behind her ear and tilts her head.

"It's like a free vacation," I tell her, grabbing the cart she's pushing and leading it toward a table of men's jeans. "Is he a bootcut kind of guy, do you think?"

Lucy frowns, a crease forming between her eyebrows. "I'm not sure. And Pennsylvania is cold this time of year. It's really not like a vacation, kid."

Even though we're both in our twenties, Lucy is seven years older than me. Sometimes it feels like an eternity—especially when I was still into Barbies and she was experimenting with makeup. She'll be thirty before I hit twenty-five, which is usually prime marriage age, but not for Lucy. She'll never get married.

"Well," I say, drawing out the word, "it will be, if he's hot."

Lucy nearly chokes. Her face streaks through with red, and the tips of her ears practically glow. "He's like your cousin," she hisses.

I think of all the ways our parents will disapprove of this, how they already disapprove of him. This morning, when Lucy filled me in on what she was doing, she made me promise not to tell Mom and Dad. I'm twenty-one and yet apparently still have to swear to little sister secrecy. Other than that, she didn't tell me much. Just that our cousin Cliff needed some help because he just got out of prison. And then those cherry red lips of hers clamped shut.

It's weird, because Lucy and I tell each other everything. Seven years is a lucky number. We were meant to be.

"Dude, I'm dying to know. What did he go away for?" I start unfolding jeans, checking sizes and seeing how they fall. I've never dressed a guy before. It's kind of turning me on, and I haven't even met him yet. I don't know what to expect, so I imagine that he's tall and muscular, with dark eyes and long hair. A beard, for sure. And he's broad. He could throw me around in bed like a rag doll. I smirk.

"Stop that," Lucy hisses. She throws me a glare.

I sigh. The past three years of college were fun, but this new semester has me in a bit of a dry spell. Everyone is focusing on their GPAs, which is odd considering we're all legal drinking age now. You'd think they'd all be at the bar with me. Not that I don't want to graduate and get a good job. But this is it, the last semester before we're shoved into adulthood. Real responsibility and all that. Not only am I curious about the ex-con, but I'm also bored. And when I get bored . . .

"Please try not to get into trouble," Lucy continues, reading my mind. It's her superpower. "Mom and Dad will kill me if they find out I dragged you into this."

"Dragged me into what?" I toss several pairs of jeans into the cart, then face her. Crossing my arms, I give her another baby sis look. It's almost too easy—usually, anyway.

But this time, Lucy ignores me. She takes back control of the cart and marches toward the checkout queue. Frowning, I follow her, grabbing a makeup palette off a shelf as I pass it and chucking it into the cart. She owes me, damn it.

"We've got to catch our train," Lucy reminds me again over her shoulder as she piles everything onto the checkout counter. "So no time for smoke breaks, understand?"