“What was that?” she murmured to herself.
Was he saying that he would stop it if she developed feelings for his friend?
Cluelessly shaken, Lisa went about her workday, grateful she was busy and hardly had a moment to think about the weird exchange with Ryan.
But that night in bed, after she’d switched off one of her favorite TV shows, the questions floated through her mind.
But without an answer as to why he’d said it, she was none the wiser.
And decided it was better that way.
Getting her feelings tangled up with that man again would be a mistake.
Right?
Right?
Right.
SEVEN
Splice
It was seven thirty, several days later, that Splice parked his Harley and climbed down tiredly. He’d been running around between places since six this morning and was ready to clock the fuck off work for the night. Sometimes, the businesses they owned needed more of his time than he had to give, but he always got shit done.
Shrugging off his leather jacket, he threw it over a chair as he landed his ass on a couch in the central area of the clubhouse.
It was already bustling. Easy rock music blared from high speakers; the massive TV was constantly tuned to a sports station, and sweet bottoms were delivering food and liquor.
“Do you need anything, Splice, babe? I’m heading to the bar for Forger. I don’t mind grabbing you something, too.” He cocked his head to see Sonya hovering. After trying to come between Diamond and his pregnant old lady, the sweet bottom had traded her bitchy attitude for a saccharine act. Splice didn’t buy it, but he didn’t care enough to call her on it.
“Bring me a beer.”
“Sure thing.” She sashayed off, and then Tomb folded his bulky frame into a chair opposite him.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, brother.”
“I was dealing with some headaches with the car wash; all sorted now. How come you’re here tonight? The little wife let you off your leash?”
“Wait until I tell Nina what you just called her.” Smirked Tomb and Splice internally groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face before he accepted the beer from Sonya.
“Go ahead, cause trouble, you bastard. I only just got out of her bad books after I took you to the strip club for your bachelor party. I told her the dancers didn’t even lay a hand on you.”
Tomb smirked, scratching his beard. “She doesn’t believe you.”
“So, why are you here? You’ve only been back from your honeymoon a few days; I thought you’d be holed up under the sheets.”
Tomb grumbled. “I wanted to, but Nina had a girls’ night booked already.”
“And you’re not spying on your wife?” Splice recalled their difficult period, when he shadowed Nina for her protection.
“She threatened to cut my balls off if she spotted me. She’ll call to be picked up.”
Poor bastard had an obsessive love for his wife.
He tried to act casual as he asked, “Is Nina out with Monroe?”
“Her friend, Lisa.”
