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Iron: Exiled Guardians, #8
Iron: Exiled Guardians, #8
Iron: Exiled Guardians, #8
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Iron: Exiled Guardians, #8

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Maddy
I've been in love with Iron forever.
He looked out for me when we were growing up and always made me feel special.
But now I want him to look at me more than just his friend. I want him to see me as a woman.
Iron
Maddy's always been mine. Even if I couldn't have her.
But when she has a run in with one of my rivals, all bets are off.
No one is going to hurt her. My club and I will protect her until it's my last breath.
And then I'm going to make her mine.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHope Ford
Release dateJan 8, 2024
ISBN9798224779697
Iron: Exiled Guardians, #8
Author

Hope Ford

USA Today Bestselling Author Hope Ford loves writing about curvy women finding love with hot alpha men. Her stories are short, sweet & steamy. To stay up to date on new releases, copy and paste this link to a new window and sign up: www.authorhopeford.com/subscribe For Freebies - copy and paste this link to a new window:https://authorhopeford.com/freebies/

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    Book preview

    Iron - Hope Ford

    1

    MADDY

    And there he is.

    I slow down my car as much as possible without drawing all the Exiled Guardian club members’ attention. They’re standing outside the clubhouse, no doubt planning out their day.

    I drive this way to work every day just hoping for a glance of Joshua Pierce, or as people now call him, Iron. He has on his boots, jeans and the signature Exiled Guardians sleeveless leather vest. He’s walking away from one of the women that I see coming or going a lot there. Even though there are about six guys all dressed the same, I can always spot him. To me, he stands out among the rest of them. It could be the fact that I’ve been in love with him since I was fourteen years old. Or maybe it’s the way his shoulder-length hair is always tousled and makes me want to run my fingers through it. Or the fact that he’s always got a smile on his face. Well, except for lately. I can tell he’s had something on his mind, but he’s not talking to me about it.

    And why should he? Our parents knew each other and my dad asked Iron to look out for me while we were growing up. And Iron held up his word and looked out for me a few times when I’d needed it. The only problem with that is now he thinks of himself as some kind of brother figure. He definitely doesn’t look at me like a love interest.

    Dammit!

    I drive into town and start work. My dad owns the hardware store, and instead of going off to college or doing something else, I stayed here. One, because I couldn’t imagine leaving here because it would mean leaving Iron. And although he probably wouldn’t care, it would devastate me.

    Secondly, I’m all my father has. My mother died when I was young, and it’s always been just me and him. There’s no way I could leave him. So I’m here, working in Dad’s store and breathlessly waiting for when Iron comes in or I see him around town.

    The waiting is getting old though. Watching him, waiting on him to notice me has completely overtaken every thought I have. So today, I plan to do something about it.

    I can tell my dad is surprised by his raised eyebrows when I walk in, but he doesn’t say anything. I know I look ridiculous. Working at a hardware store has never given me any reason to change out of my jeans and T-shirts. But today is different. Today I have a plan. And I put a skirt on for it.

    Every Wednesday, Iron and a few of his friends from the garage come into town to eat lunch at the Grease Rack. And today is Wednesday.

    I feel like I’ve been preparing for this day my whole life. This is my chance. We are adults now. It’s high time I let him know I’m into him. Maybe once I do, he’ll change the way he looks at me.

    At lunch time, I take my break and sit on the front stoop. My sandwich sets in the tote beside me but I know I’m not going to eat it. My nerves couldn’t possibly let me eat anything right now. I keep watching the road, knowing that any minute ten to fifteen motorcycles are going to pass me and go to the parking lot of the Grease Rack two doors down. I can hear them from a distance, and I hold my breath anxiously. Two by two, I see them shift and slow down as they get to Main Street. And one by one, they drive by me and I wait for the one man that I know will lift his hand and wave at me. But he never comes. All the bikers shut their bikes off and walk into the

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