“I’m not going to pretend like we’re not rough around the edges around here, but we’re a family. I’ll find out what is going on.” He reaches up and brushes a few tendrils of hair away from my face, his fingertips grazing my temple. His gray eyes, illuminated just enough, are intense. “I’ll protect you, but I expect you to walk in there as Ezra, not the sheriff’s daughter.”
My spine straightens slightly and I try to swallow down the words that want to come out filled with anger. It’ll do me no good; it never has.
“I hope that goes both ways,” I bite out the words. “I understand the misconceptions, about me, for the most part. Dad has always been good at the show, but he does also love this town and wants to keep it safe.” His mouth opens and his eyes flash with anger, but I’m not afraid. I push on, not letting him say anything yet. “I also understand that he has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to the club and everyone associated with it. What I will not do is speculate as to whether he is correct about the club, but I suspect he isn’t because I’m not blind or stupid.”
“You’ve made it a point to stay away from the brothers,” his words feel like an accusation, and I swear I see hurt in his eyes. But then it’s gone.
I’m not sure if he’s baiting me or not. His accusation isn’t entirely wrong either. I just knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes off him if he was around.
Now, he’s standing right in front of me. By the look of him, he has no intention of being anywhere else.
“If you’re trying to remind me that I don’t know you and your brothers,” I pause and search his eyes, hoping he can hear me, “then all I’m trying to point out is that you and your brothers don’t know me.”
His shoulders drop and his large hand cups my face, his thumb brushes back and forth over my cheek. “I hear you,” he murmurs the words in a way that almost feel like surrender. “Just give them a chance to get to know you. People in towndon’t like you because of some image your dad conjured up. It’s because you show up, always have. And you’re damn sweet.”
I blink up at him, my mouth opening and closing. “Gob smacked,” I mutter.
Ryker chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I like his laugh.
I like a lot of things about him. If I wanted to be honest with myself. Which is probably not a good idea.
Earlier, I could tell Jessi wanted me to try to get Dad to listen one more time, but I’m so tired of fighting to be a person to him. A whole person. An adult. Not some little girl. Then when he had a chance to shield me, to be what he always purported himself to be—a protector—he walked away instead.
“I need to know if I’m going to walk in there and see things I shouldn’t see,” the words rush out of me. His eyebrow arches in challenge and I have never seen anything sexier. As if I needed to be more turned on. “I just mean, I’m really too tired to be confronted with people fucking or taking body shots or,” I raise my hands in frustration, “I don’t even know.”
“I’m not going to pretend like you’ll never see something like that happen, but it won’t be tonight. It’s not as common as you might think,” he tells me, every word filled with sincerity. “I can promise you that I’ll be doing my fucking best to make sure you don’t witness my brothers like that,” his voice drops, like he’s talking to himself more than me, “or anyone.”
“What?” My hands fall on my hips, but Ryker just shakes his head.
Ryker steps back and allows me to step by him to grab my bag out of the trunk. He closes my door and then is on myheels, taking the bag from my hands along with my camera bag before closing the trunk. When his hand finds its place on my lower back, it feels like something clicks into place. His presence isn’t foreboding even though it wraps around me and looms with something I’m not used to.
A cozy feeling blooms in my chest even as nerves swarm in my belly because I’m about to step into the clubhouse. The clubhouse.
“I kind of can’t believe I’m here,” I admit out of the side of my mouth, like I’m sharing a secret with him.
Maybe I am.
“You’ll be just fine, Teach,” he assures me.
He opens the door for me and the moment I step inside the large lounge room, I’m expecting a record scratch moment. But there’s no one around except for someone behind the bar who glances up but doesn’t react and goes right back to whatever they’re doing.
Ryker’s chuckle is low with a touch of sin and smoke. “Most people are still at the fair. I’ll take you to my room and then we’ll see what’s in the kitchen.”
“Okay,” my voice is small as I swallow hard and nod.
I look around the room, taking in the industrial touches which are clearly a holdover from when this was a warehouse. Somehow, it works. It’s also huge and separated by function and furnishings.
It’s a man cave on steroids, honestly and filled with all the toys the boys could ever want. That includes pool tables, a foosball table, and an area for darts clearly defined off to theside. There are huge couches and televisions, a dance floor, one stripper pole with a small stage, and tables for seating.
The space might scream man, but it’s clean. I have no doubt the cleanliness is Opal’s doing since she manages this building.
“It’s huge in here,” I marvel as I look around.
Ryker waits, his gray eyes watching me closely as I take everything in. My feet are begging to step closer to the wall of pictures and get a better look. There has to be one of Ryker as a kid, right? He’s always been older than me, with eight years between us, and we didn’t exactly play in the same circles.
Before I can, a woman walks through a doorway into the room and calls out, her voice sultry, “Oh, you’re back already Ryker?”
Her hips sway side to side as she steps closer. She doesn’t even look at me, which has me narrowing my eyes as I watch the show.
