“I’ve given up on blocking him. I just ignore them now.”
“Is he bothering you at work?”
“Not anymore.”
I crossed my arms. “You need to let Merrick and me take care of this.”
“No,” she said firmly. “This is my problem. You two confronting him will only make things worse. He already thinks I’m screwing the entire club.”
I ground my teeth. “I don’t like this. We need to make it clear to him that you’re not to be fucked with.”
She stood. “I have it handled. Let’s go back.”
Merci insisted I park at the clubhouse so my bike wouldn’t wake Merrick and Kenna, so I walked her down the dark path through the woods to the front door—much to her annoyance and insistence that she was completely safe on club property—before returning to pour myself a drink.
Fuse walked in and pulled a bottle of scotch from behind the bar.
I chuckled. “Leah’s going to have your ass tomorrow.”
“She’ll never know it was me,” he said, taking a swig straight from the bottle.
I raised a brow. “You’re the only one who drinks the Macallan.”
Fuse shrugged, giving no shits about the club bartender carving his eyes out with a muddler. “You’ve been gone all night.” His comment was more a statement than a question, like he knew more than he was saying.
I downed a shot of Jack Daniel’s and poured another.
“What’s going on with you and Merci?”
That was Fuse. If the leading question didn’t get the answer, he went straight for the kill.
“Nothing. I took her for a ride. She lost a patient today. I walked in, and she was crying into her drink. She needed a friend.”
“You’re playing with fire,” Fusemused.
“I’m keeping an eye on her,” I insisted. “Like Merrick asked me to.”
Fuse stared at me, eyebrows raised like he knew I was full of shit.
* * *
I pushed Merrick’s front door open, balancing a coffee tray and a pink box of donuts from Maisie’s Bakery. Brisket woofed once before shaking his stuffed lamb at me, its floppy legs hitting my own.
“Hold on, buddy. I’ll pet you in a sec,” I promised. I handed off the coffee tray to Merrick and knelt so Brisket could lick my face.
“Four coffees?” Merrick asked.
“Wasn’t sure if Merci was going to be here,” I explained, standing and sliding the box of donuts on the counter.It’d been days since I’d seen her, but it’d felt longer.
As if on cue, Merci bounced into the room. “I’m here, but I’m heading out. It’s my day off.” She held a pair of brown hiking boots in one hand and a backpack in the other.
“Where are you going?” Merrick asked.
“A hike.”
I handed her a latte, and she closed her eyes as she breathed in the sweet scent.
“Orange mocha?”
