Page 59 of Property of Quake

It’s not even that the kiss was particularly passionate. Shit, it wasn’t even long. It’s what happened after the kiss that changed things. Whitney didn't pull away because she regretted it which makes me think she pulled away because she was scared of how much she didn't regret it.

The distinction matters.

Unfortunately, knowing that doesn't actually help me focus on the long list of problems currently waiting for my attention.

Tom is still out there. Carrie’s involvement still has a giant question mark attached to it.

We're getting closer to answers, but we're not there yet, and every hour that passes makes me more restless. By lunchtime, I give up pretending I can concentrate and hop on my Harley to ride to Sacred Haven.

Whitney and Melissa are already there. Junior drove them over this morning so they could meet with Carrie. The caseworker is no longer welcome at the clubhouse, not until we know more. I don’t think the visit with her will yield anything, as the few there’ve been in the last few weeks are brief and to the point: Is Melissa talking? What does she know? Has she provided names?

They’ve gone back to the home several times, mostly to check in with Sister Beatrice, but tonight will be the first night they’re staying over as a few sponsors are coming to sign contracts for the carnival tomorrow, and Whitney refused to let anyone else handle that. And Melissa, well, she feels best when she’s close to Whitney. The ride to the children’s home gives me too much time to think. About Melissa, Carrie, Whitney… mostly Whitney.

The woman has somehow embedded herself into every part of my day. I find myself looking for things she'd enjoy, wondering what she'd think about random comments, imagining the look on her face when I tell her something funny. The realization should probably concern me.

Instead, it settles over me with surprising certainty.

I love her.

The thought lands without fanfare, which makes me laugh because Zombie would no doubt have a field day with the fact that I don’t panic or go into denial.

I simply accept what is true.

I fucking love the pretty nun.

I've spent most of my life recognizing danger before it arrives. As the SAA of KOAMC, it’s part of the job. Reading situations, reading people and knowing when something feels right and when it doesn’t is a trick of the trade, one I excel at.

Loving Whitney feels right. Complicated as all hell, but right.

When I arrive at Sacred Haven, I find Sister Beatrice in the office.

The older nun sits behind her desk sorting through paperwork. She doesn't even bother looking up when I step inside.

"Good afternoon, Quake."

"Good afternoon."

She hums and remains focused on her paperwork. I stare at her while she works. A full minute passes with neither of us speaking.

Finally, I drop into the chair opposite her desk. "You knew."

One gray eyebrow lifts as she looks at me. "Knew what?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That."

The woman actually smirks, a full-on devilish smirk. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Says the biker."

A laugh escapes me despite myself, and I rub a hand across my jaw. "You put us together."

Sister Beatrice finally sets the paperwork aside, giving me her full attention. "I did."