Falling For Disaster Read Free

being alone with Saint because he might possibly be a violent criminal. Actually, he seemed like a really nice guy, once you got past the outlaw biker club member aspect. Finn was mostly dreading the idea of being alone with Saint because despite knowing better, he was quickly realizing he was really into scary biker guys.
    Finn parked in front of the house and cursed under his breath as he hopped out of the truck. He rushed up the porch steps, unlocked the door and flipped the porch light on. He quickly relocated the two rocking chairs and the small table to the far end of the porch and was praying that Saint would be able to fix whatever was wrong with his bike and be on his way before Finn had a chance to make an ass of himself. Oh, fuck me, Finn thought as he turned and watched Saint push his bike up the ramp. His t-shirt hung from his back pocket and his skin glistened in the fading light as the muscles of his arms, shoulders and chest twisted, stretched and flexed as he guided the bike onto the porch. Wow. He’s really fit. And so, so many tattoos. Not so many on his stomach… Saint pulled his shirt free and wiped his face before he hung it over the rail of the porch and turned to Finn. He managed to direct his eyes toward Saint’s and not look like he was cataloging Saint’s tattoos. Or drooling. At the thought, Finn rubbed his hand across his mouth and did his best to appear to be checking out Saint’s bike.
    “If you’ll get that flashlight, I’ll get out of your way as quick as I can,” he said and Finn nodded slowly as he tried to remember where he was. For a sweaty, gritty redneck, Saint smelled really nice. Like fabric softener and something citrus.
    “Right. Come on in,” Finn said as he turned and pushed the door open.
    Finn was reaching for the top of the fridge when he realized that Saint was in his living room, inspecting the stacks of books along the walls and on his coffee table. Finn’s brows pulled together and he resisted the urge to ask Saint why he was so interested in his books. Finn’s hand found the Maglight and he rolled his eyes when he tested it and it failed to work.
    “I have some batteries somewhere around here,” he mumbled as he began pulling open drawers. Most of the kitchen drawers were empty and Finn bit his lip as he tried to remember where he’d seen them last. He chewed on his lip as he wandered into the living room and checked an end table.
    “This place could be really nice,” Saint said as he pulled a book off the mantelpiece. “I’m sure that once your stuff comes and with a little work, it’ll be really comfortable,” he said as he turned and watched Finn pulling open drawers and grumbling as he made his way around the room. Finn shook his head and waved dismissively.
    “This is all of my stuff. I lost everything in the divorce,” he said absently as he hurried across the room and checked the box by the stairs. Saint nodded in understanding.
    “Ah. She kept the house and all the furniture?” He asked and Finn snorted.
    “We weren’t married. Yet. And it was a he, not a she,” Finn explained and his eyes flared as he stared into the box.
    He quickly went back to looking and hoped that Saint wouldn’t have caught the last part or wasn’t about to feed Finn his teeth. No batteries. Of course. When Finn stood up and turned toward the living room, Saint was leaning against the fireplace and didn’t appear to have heard.
    “So, most of this is what was left behind after Simon’s family picked through everything?” He asked and Finn nodded as he pulled the closet door open and narrowed his eyes as he reached for the small box of odds and ends on the shelf. He cheered under his breath when he spotted the batteries. “Is he why you left St. Louis?” Saint asked and Finn squeezed his eyes shut. At least he doesn’t seem pissed off or freaked out, he thought as he turned back to Saint.
    “Yeah. I wanted to get out of the city and they needed someone