I don’t trust many people, bikers included. Most especially, the bikers from the Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club. But when I’m abducted by my “best friend” to come work for them as a forensic accountant, I don’t have a lot of choice. Hey, at least I got them to sign a contract, and it comes with dental. All I have to do is find out who’s embezzling from them and I can go home. I have far too many demons to be around anyone for very long. It would go a lot faster if I didn’t have a handsome cocky biker hanging around and being nice to me. The question is which folks are worse, those wearing the Concrete Angels’ cuts or the FBI jackets?
Oriana Hunter is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen walk through the gates of the Concrete Angels’ compound, and she’s badass, through and through. But she doesn’t trust anyone, me especially, and I can recognize the signs of someone dealing with PTSD from my time in the Army. Turns out, she’s a former FBI agent who left the bureau after she was raped, and doesn’t trust bikers or men. Not that I blame her. I wouldn’t trust us either. But I know she’ll figure out our money leak, and quickly. She’s too smart not to. Which means I don’t have a lot of time to prove I’m not what she thinks and convince her to stay.