Wilting Violets by Anne Malcom

The good girl falls for the bad boy.
Can we name a bigger, or better cliché?
Despite my ideas about the deep misogyny associated with this particular one, I’ve somehow found myself in the middle of it.
Except, I’m not the good girl. I’m exceptional at playing that role. But I’m not. My secrets make sure of that.
And he’s not a boy. He’s a man. Older than me by decades. An outlaw. A villain.
A member of one of the most notorious MCs in the country. The Sons of Templar.
More importantly, my stepfather is one of his brothers. That means I’m off limits.
He’s off limits.
But that doesn’t stop us. Nothing will. Not until there’s nothing left but the charred remains of the lives we once knew.