Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I turn, catching her lips for a longer kiss, then drop my forehead to hers. “For what?”
“Everything.” She lifts her gaze to the ceiling. “For hearing me out. For all your help this morning.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” I think I love you and I’d do anything for you.
“Well, I do.”
Letting her go feels like breaking my arms out of concrete.
“Be careful,” she warns.
“Always,” I answer automatically, but her words linger as I move through the house. A sobering reminder of everyday danger.
Outside, the back parking lot has more cars than usual. I stop at my bike and send Teller a quick text.
Me: You available to meet at the clubhouse for a few minutes?
I stare at my phone, waiting for a response.
Nothing.
The man’s busy changing diapers and whatever the fuck else you do with babies but come on now.
“Jensen?” a rough voice hesitantly calls out.
I stuff my phone in my pocket, glance up, and find Margot’s dad coming down the porch steps.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yes, yes.” He stops in front of me and slides his gaze over my bike. The corners of his mouth twitch. Is that a smirk on Cedarwood’s face? “Thank you for helping Margot this morning.”
“Of course. Not a problem.”
He interlaces his hands in front of him. “And you were here when the police stopped by as well, right?”
Oh fuck. Is he really going to grill me about spending the night with his twenty-eight-year-old daughter?
When I don’t answer fast enough, he scoffs. “Do you think I haven’t noticed your bike parked outside all this time? You do a good job tucking it close to the house, but it’s not invisible.” He cocks his head, leveling me with another give-me-a-break stare. “And it’s certainly not quiet.”
Heat creeps up my neck. Am I blushing over my girlfriend’s dad busting me for sleeping over?
“Are you good to my daughter?” he asks, not waiting for me to deny the obvious.
Except for ticking her off with my overbearing ways. “I try to be, sir.” She’s stubborn, though.
He studies me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You seem to respect what she does.” He gestures toward the house. “What we do here.”
“Yes, I do.”
“It doesn’t scare you?” he asks.
I glance at the funeral home looming over us. “Uh, not really.”
He lowers his voice to a low, spooky tone. “You’re not worried the house is haunted?”
I lift my eyebrows. “No. Should I be?”
His jaw tightens. “You’re not weirdly fascinated?”
A shudder works over me when I realize what he’s really asking—do I get my rocks off playing with dead bodies? “Definitely not.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t think so.”
I hope he’s not waiting for me to ask permission to date his daughter.
“The cops who were here earlier, did you speak with them as well?”
I’m already shaking my head by the time he finishes the question. “No. I stayed out of sight. But I tried to overhear as much as I could.”
A knowing smile turns his mouth up, as if he enjoys the thought of me sneaking around and pressing my ear against the door. “And?”
I swallow hard. Is Margot sure her dad doesn’t know she killed that guy? “Uh, they seemed interested in locating one of your clients. Her husband died and I guess they can’t find her. They just asked how well Margot knew her, stuff like that. She handled herself well.”
“Good.” He flicks his gaze toward my bike again, and I can’t shake the feeling he has something heavier on his mind. “If there’s ever anything you, or your club, have questions about, you can just ask me. You know that, right?”
I frown as I puzzle that one out. Is he implying… “Mr. Cedarwood, I’m not with your daughter because my club asked me to spy on her.” Actually, my president specifically asked me not to get involved with her.
He lifts his eyebrows.
I hold his stare, waiting to see if he has more questions.
I’m sure as fuck not telling him I’m in love with his daughter before I say it to her. I’m not even sure my mouth knows how to form the words to express how I feel.
After a long beat, he nods. “I’m glad to hear that.”
My jaw twitches. “Are you?”
“I want her to be happy.” He tilts his head and runs his gaze over me. “But you also seem like someone who can keep her…safe.”
From what?
It doesn’t matter. He’s right, I’ll protect her from anything. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” With that, he turns and heads inside. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” he calls over his shoulder.
I need to write this down in my never expected to fucking happen journal.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out.
Teller: When?
Me: About an hour.
Teller: I’ll be there.
I grab my helmet off the handlebars and snap the chin strap into place.
Swinging my leg over the bike, I settle into the seat and fire up the engine.