Page 69 of Stealing Blinds

“Yeah?” he clips, listening and grunting, “Fighting or fucking?” He hums in response to whatever is said. “It’s always anyone’s guess.”

“The Alvarados.” Cash shakes his head, filling me in. “One of our members and his wife are … passionate.”

“In one of the fountains,” Maddox supplies when he hangs up, and no one seems to find that bizarre.

This place is so freaking weird.

That brief respite did nothing to deter their focus though. All eyes land on me.

“You need a team,” Axel decides.

I knew that was where this was headed, and I feel like screaming, I work alone, but I refrain. “I appreciate that so much. I’m sure you have countless members who could handle this with ease. And maybe they’re fantastic people. But I don’t trust anyone. I’d rather risk it alone than be taken down because someone threw me under the bus.”

“Not our members,” Jax retorts. “Us. We’re your team.”

CASH

“Cash,” Sylvie wheezes, covering her face with both hands. “It’s … oh my fuck.”

“Breathe, baby.”

“I can’t.” She peeks through her fingers, overwhelmed but too hungry for it not to chance a look. “It’s too much.”

“It’s not too much.” I clutch her waist, my fingers sinking into the bow of her hips as I move her where I want her. “It’s perfect. Open your eyes.”

She does.

“Well, I mean,” she stammers, more undone than I’ve ever seen her, “it’s sexy as hell. But you need to reevaluate your gift giving. A toaster is an appropriate birthday present, not a Ducati Panigale V4 S.”

Her ability to rattle off the model has me laughing. I think I did good.

“Why the hell would I buy you a toaster?”

“I don’t know. Toast is a cozy treasure.” She bites back a smile. “And … an appliance to produce it is … normal.”

“And boring. Please tell me a man has never bought you a toaster. You know what? I don’t want to know anything about cozy treasures.” I station myself behind her, gesturing to the bike in front of us. “I was going for exhilarating and practical. More like toasting anyone else on the road.”

“So cozy.” She chuckles.

“The matte black was a custom paint job. I figured it would allow you to use it for jobs. I added the rear seat and got a few fake license plates to slap on. She’ll fit on my jet, so we’ll take her with us tomorrow and try her out. You’ve had too many drinks today.”

She spent the afternoon with the girls until they all returned as happy as happy hour would permit. Or as much as Mercy—their chaperone since she can’t drink—would allow. They sopped up the alcohol at our family dinner, which was over an hour ago, but Sylvie still shouldn’t drive. Worth it though. She was glowing when she returned. She must’ve temporarily dismissed the reservations about my family’s involvement in her upcoming heist.

“I’m not drunk, but …” She twists around to peer up at me. “It’s late. And we need to leave early.” Despite her suggestion for us to head back to the penthouse, she steps away and tarries near the bike, tracing the curves with her index finger. A question loiters the space between us until she finally releases it. “Is this what you do?”

“What I do?” I repeat, not sure what she means.

“I’m so appreciative.” She presses both palms over her chest, emotion making her voice quaver. “It’s the most generous anyone has ever … it all has been … the clothes and breakfast and Big Top night. I don’t think I should accept it, but—”

“Why?”

“Because …” Her gaze flits between me and the bike, and suddenly, what she’s inquiring about hits me.

I stride toward her, crowding her near the Ducati while still allotting her some breathing room. “I have never spoiled another woman like this. Or at all. Not even a fucking toaster because I’ve never …” I take a beat to reroute my approach. “You don’t need me to buy you things. You’re capable of getting any-damn-thing you want all by yourself. But I’m guessing you don’t let yourself splurge because it could bring you unwanted attention. That’s been a concern for a long time. Right?”

She hesitates, but there’s an unmistakable hint of validation in the rise of her chin. “Yes.”

“That’s not the case with me in the picture. This is expected, so let me … the thought of being the reason you can relax and live a little freer …” I blow out a choppy breath because I am so bad at this shit. “If you need to think of it as a gift from a friend, so be it. But I waited all day to see that damn smile on your face, so …”