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My stomach clenches. She just got down here and she already wants to go back to her place?
Before I can question her, try to change her mind, Murphy and Chance return. Lilly’s whole demeanor changes when she sees Chance. Calm seems to wash over her. She shines a bright smile down at Chance. “Look at your shirt, all orange and sticky.”
“I did my best.” Murphy shrugs. “Washed his hands and face, but I think the shirt’s a goner.”
“It’s fine.” Lilly straightens up and captures Chance’s hand. “I need to get home. I want to get our stuff unpacked anyway. Guess I’ll start with his clothes.” A thin laugh follows her excuses and Murphy cocks his head.
Relief that she meant our home blows through me.
“Will you be late?” Lilly asks me.
“I’ll try not to be.” I’d planned for her to spend the afternoon here, but I can see how badly she needs some space. As long as she’s not running away again to get it, I can give her that.
“I don’t wanna go,” Chance whines and pulls out of Lilly’s grasp.
I’m torn. Part of me wants her to leave him here with me. But I also know later tonight the clubhouse will be busier and I sure as fuck don’t know any of the girls who hang around here well enough to trust them with my son.
I squat down, so we’re eye-level. “I need you to go home and help Mommy unpack all your stuff, okay?”
“But—”
“I bet you can’t have all your stuff unpacked and put away before I get home?” Hey, challenging me not to do something has always been the best way to get me to do the opposite. Why would Chance be any different?
“Can too,” he counters.
I wiggle my hand back and forth. “I don’t know. You brought a lot of stuff.”
He backs up and grabs Lilly’s hand.
Lilly leans down and whispers in my ear, “He doesn’t quite grasp organization yet, Z.” Her lips twitch. “But I have a feeling he’s going to try hard just to please you.”
I stand and pull Lilly closer, searching her unreadable eyes for some answers. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
She gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be waiting up for you.”
* * *
“Everything all right?” Murphy asks after they leave.
I’m still standing in the parking lot, watching the billowing cloud of dust left by her car. “I don’t fucking know.”
Teller rides up, so Murphy and I stay outside to wait for him. “Was that Lilly leaving?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Had enough already?”
I don’t care for the sarcastic edge to his question. “Watch yourself, little brother.”
Because he’s a dick, he grins at the warning. Since I need something from him, I ignore it. “You still talk to your cop buddy, Liam?”
Teller rolls his eyes. “He’s not my buddy.”
I motion for both of them to follow me back inside and into the office.
“What’s on your mind, Z?” Teller asks, dropping into one of the chairs and stretching out his legs.
Maybe Murphy’s worried about an invasion or something, because he remains standing with his back against the door and his arms folded over his chest.
“Your cop buddy’s still with Empire P.D., right?” I ask Teller.
“If I’m buddies with anyone, it’s Bree.” He flashes a cocky smirk. “Much to Liam’s irritation. Why?”
“He patrol any of the courthouses?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know. Why? Liam’s as straight as they come, so if you’re looking to get at someone in custody, he’s not our guy.”
“Right. That’s fine. I’d rather avoid him or anyone else I know.”
“What’s this about?” Murphy asks. “You got a lead on who shot Sway?”
Shit, I haven’t given Sway or anyone else a whole lot of thought since Lilly came clean with me. “No. This is…something else.”
They both stare at me, but I don’t elaborate.
“You close enough to chat up his fiancée?” I ask Teller.
“Bree? If I run into her, sure. I guess. It’d be fuckin’ weird if I called her out of the blue, though.”
“Heidi can do it,” Murphy says.
Teller tips his head back. “Really?”
“Yeah, they’ve been talking weddings and stuff since they met up at the Furious re-opening.”
Teller shrugs. “There you go.” He stands. “You still need me? I’m supposed to meet up with Hustler to go over some numbers.”
“No, go ahead. Thanks, brother.”
Once he’s gone, Murphy takes his place in the chair. “What’s going on, Z?” His gaze bounces around the room. “Something to do with Lilly?”
Anyone who assumes Murphy’s a big, oafish brute, or worse, a big, dumb teddy bear, is fuckin’ stupid. He’s often quiet but also observant when he wants to be. Perceptive too. It’s why he’s been such a vital part of the club since he was a teenager.
“There’s a trial going on, but it’s got a lot of coverage. I only need a minute to send a message, but he’s gonna be watched closely.”
“Okay. When and where?” he asks without hesitation.
“The Federal Courthouse in downtown Empire.”
“Jesus Christ, Z. You’re not kidding about it being watched closely. They’ll have federal marshals there along with local.”
“Still needs to be done.”
“All right.” He meets my stare head-on. “Whatever you need.”
Lilly
I fully intended to wait up for Z, but after chasing Chance around, unpacking more clothes than I thought I had, and getting Chance to bed, I’m exhausted.
Intending to read until Z gets home, I slip into bed.
Sometime later, the bed dips and a slight weight is lifted from my chest. Something thunks on the nightstand and I open my eyes to find a shirtless Z stretching over me to click off the light.
“Sorry I’m later than I expected.”
“That’s okay.” He settles down behind me, pulling me against him.
“How’d it go?” he murmurs against my hair.
“Fine. I didn’t explore the neighborhood much. Just unpacked our stuff.”
He sighs and brushes a kiss against my shoulder.
“Were you worried I wasn’t going to unpack?”
“Worried isn’t the right word.”
At least he’s honest.
I’m flirting with falling back to sleep when he kisses my shoulder again. A soft kiss that rekindles my desire. I stretch long and hard, pressing my ass tig
ht against his groin. He groans against my ear. “Can we talk first?”
“About what?”
“The letter opener?” Z asks gently.
Well, that snuffs out every bit of fire that had been building inside me. I should’ve known Z wasn’t finished with this topic.
“I had something else in mind.”
“We’ll get there.”
“Are you sure?”
He pauses and places his hand on my arm, trying to peer down at my face. “What’s that mean?”
I turn toward him. “It means you haven’t wanted to touch me since I told you about it.”
That was hard to say but it feels good to voice it.
I’m aware enough to understand a small part of me needs attention and approval from men to feel good about myself. That I have a compulsion to be reminded that I’m attractive and desirable. Duh, I made my living as a dancer. I also hate this about myself, which is why I was determined to get an education and prove I wasn’t some shallow shell of a person. I’ve worked hard to understand I’m more than my physical appearance and that I’m worth more than a man’s opinion of me. That I don’t exist to please men, visually or otherwise.
But old habits never quite die and I’m feeling needier than ever after sharing my secret with Z. My pride’s been shredded and that old desire to feel wanted comes crawling back.
“That’s a lie, Lilly and you know it,” he says slowly and evenly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’ve never hurt me.”
“In here.” He taps my forehead. “Or in here.” He places his hand over my heart.
How did we ever end up here? When we met, I wanted a good, hard fuck from a bad boy I’d never see again. How the hell did I end up with this sweet, complex, loving man permanently in my life?
He’s so much more than I deserve.
If I hadn’t resisted him so much in the beginning, resisted admitting we were more than fuck buddies, would I have been spared the horrible nightmare my life became? Would I have spared him the pain of not being there for his son?
