MC Romance: Ride of Their Lives (BBW, Military Romance, Alpha Male) (Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance Book 1) by Raina Wilde Page B

and elongating her muscular legs. She then chose a long sleeved, sheer, printed top over a black tank. Jenna did not bother with socks or shoes but rather moved on to a quick application of makeup. She realized that there was no time for a full array of product, instead she settled for a hint of blush, mascara and a pale pink lip-gloss.
    She had just finished brushing her damp auburn hair when she heard a quiet knock on the door. She braided it casually as she walked down the hallway and adhered it with a dark tie.
    One glance in the hall mirror told her that she had successfully pulled off a look that was both fresh and effortless. Jenna smiled to herself and took a deep, calming breath before opening the door.
    As he brushed past her toward the kitchen Jenna gave him a mildly reproving look. Try as she might to hide it, she was amused by his unexpected appearance.
    “I like your place.” He was taking in the details of her elegant, but comfortable, home while pulling a series of clear storage containers from the box. From her vantage point she could see sliced turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, stuffing, green beans, and even two slices of crème-topped pumpkin pie.
    “Did you cook all of this?” She asked incredulously. Those were not restaurant takeout containers.
    “Nah,” Alex laughed. “I got my nutritionist to tell the chef that I could take a weekend off from chicken and rice.” Jenna had forgotten that Alex had now gained enough sponsorship to employ a personal chef. She shook her head in amazement. This account was turning out better than she could have ever anticipated, as long as neither of them screwed this up, her promotion was in the bag.
    This thought raised concerns in Jenna’s mind about Alex’s arrival at her residence. Bramble and Bowman had a fairly liberal approach to client/agent relationships as long as they did not affect the contract. Mr. Bramble, himself, had met his wife when she was a young Olympic swimmer under his guidance. But Jenna was uncertain if this situation might end poorly in terms of her working relationship with Alex. Not, she reminded herself, that there was any sort of relationship going on. She simply needed to ensure that her professional conduct remained consistent, even in this private setting.
    A little voice in Jenna’s head told her that this would be nearly impossible to maintain.
    Abruptly, a strange thought occurred to Jenna.
    “How did you find out where I live?” She asked suspiciously.
    “Well…” he shuffled the containers distractedly, “I found out that you were spending the holiday alone so I figured, since neither of us had anywhere to go, that we could have dinner together.” Alex had always been a terrible liar and currently he was unable to meet her eyes.
    Jenna sat on a stool across the countertop from where he stood.
    She tilted her head to the side.
    “That doesn’t really answer my question.”
    He raised his guilty eyes and shrugged his shoulders in silence, clearly unwilling to betray his source.
    The response told her everything she needed to know.
    “I’m going to kill Lena.” She laughed.
    Alex seemed relieved that she wasn’t upset with her friend. Jenna recognized the test for what it was, Lena had been becoming suspicious of Jenna’s resurgence of feelings toward the fighter and was giving Jenna a private opportunity to decide if she was willing to satiate her curiosity.
    “Don’t be too harsh with her,” Alex’s smile was disarming. “I can be pretty persuasive when I want information.” When Jenna gave him a questioning look he said, “I figured if she was your best friend then you two might be similar…” he paused dramatically. “Chocolate and coffee go a long way for establishing good graces.”
    Jenna laughed heartily. Another change she hand not expected from Alex was his sudden attention to detail. If he had plied Lena with chocolate and coffee then Jenna doubted there was much her best friend wouldn’t