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Chapter Thirteen
Cage whacked him on the back, leaned in and wasn’t as quiet as he probably thought he was when he stage-whispered, “Fuck, brother, this is every man’s fantasy. Two hot fuckin’ blondes. Goddamn sisters, too!”
Heh.
Deacon quickly smoothed out his grin in case either of the women had heard Cage.
Fuck.
No. Staying in his apartment above the club’s bunkhouse with both Reese and Reilly wasn’t going to work. Not only was it way too small, but two women, only one bed and one small bathroom was a no fucking go.
Well, it might not be if the women weren’t related. Maybe some men were into having two sisters at once but if Deacon had two women in his bed, he’d prefer they both be able to get in on the action. Not only with him but with each other.
But the two blondes were related and one of them was Reese, who’d probably rip out one of his nipple rings if she knew his thoughts.
Luckily, she didn’t, and he wanted to keep it that way. She was already cranky enough about leaving Mansfield, her house and her practice to come to Manning Grove.
However, it was Sunday morning and they had all day to figure out how she’d run her law practice from a town only twenty minutes away, since he was not letting her go back unless he was with her.
And since he was back in Manning Grove, he was planning to head back into his own office on Monday to appease Judge.
Well, there was his fucking answer. She could go with him and use his office to do her lawyer shit. She could use his office phone, her laptop and, if she needed to go to court, she’d just have to take Deacon along with her. Tomorrow he planned on picking up a new cell phone for her in the same strip mall as Justice Bail Bonds.
Problem solved.
But the problem about where Reese and Reilly were bunking was not settled. If it was only Reese, they’d share his apartment. But the fuck if Deacon was sleeping on the couch and having the two women share his fucking bed without him.
“This ain’t gonna work,” he muttered.
“You’re right,” Stella agreed. “Ladies, we can put you two up at the main house. We have plenty of room.”
Trip and his ol’ lady crowded into his small apartment along with Red, Cage and Sig.
What? No. Reese was staying with him. Reilly could go up to the main house with Trip and Stella, if needed.
“We don’t want to put you out,” Reese said. The discoloration of the bruises on her face had gotten worse over the past few hours. But it was nothing like what Warren did to Reilly.
Thank fuck.
The pictures the pigs took of Reilly in the hospital had made him cringe.
“You won’t,” Stella continued. “We’ve got a big farmhouse and it’s just the two of us.”
Trip cleared his throat. He probably didn’t like the idea of one woman he hardly knew, and one he didn’t know at all, staying in their house. “Or the ladies could stay in the apartment and Deke can take one of the empty rooms in the bunkhouse.”
Fuck. He had just moved out of his room downstairs not too long ago. The rooms weren’t bad, but they weren’t great, either. And at least his apartment had windows and more space.
Even so, it was a damn good suggestion. The bunkhouse was full at night with his brothers and Sig was right next door to Deacon’s apartment. It was much safer for the women to remain in his place. It had a solid lock on the door, and he’d be right downstairs. He could also let Justice stay with them at night as an added precaution.
But he still didn’t like it. Last night was the only night in the past few days where they hadn’t had sex. But last night they’d finally shared a bed. He’d held Reese all night while she slept restlessly.
He’d been too pissed at Warren to sleep, plus he’d wanted to keep an ear out. Just in case Warren decided to pay them a visit anyway.
He normally didn’t carry a gun while he worked a skip, but Judge had brought one for him when he came to Reese’s house to pick up Reilly, knowing how violent Warren was.
If Deke needed to plug a hole in Warren’s noggin, his excuse could be self-defense. But the actual reason would be the fucker simply needed to die. Though, shooting Warren would be too easy. That woman beater needed to suffer as much as he’d made his victims. Maybe even more.
“You good with stayin’ here, just the two of you?” he asked Reese, who was scanning his place from where she stood.
She nodded as she continued to visually inspect his apartment. She hadn’t wrinkled her nose in disgust, so he took that as a good sign.
