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I laugh and point at him. “You just want more food.”
“Hey, when the businesses in town do well, the whole damn town does well,” he says, mimicking the words of the mayor of Angel Harbor.
“Fucking hollow leg,” Ace growls and shakes his head. “No, let’s wait until she’s done at the bakery. Then, we’ll talk to her at home, where she feels more comfortable. His gaze slides to me, and I know without him saying a word, he wants me to get her address.
Hours later, the sun is streaking the horizon with shades of orange and pink and red as we pull up to Maven’s duplex. She has a small but cared-for lawn with tulips surrounding the small four-foot fence that separates her yard from her neighbor’s.
Her door is a cheerful yellow, and on either side of the door, a colorful array of flowers overflow in big pots. It’s exactly where I expect a woman like her to live. She’s made the place hers even though she shares a wall with someone else.
We park Ace’s truck in front of her driveway just in case she’s as fiery as she was this morning. Also, given her feelings about bikers, it seems less intimidating.
“You knock,” Ace says to me and nods toward the door.
“Why me? You’re the Prez.”
He smirks. “She knows you, and she’s already comfortable with you. She only knows me as the guy who runs the MC. Hell, she might think Joaquin is here to sell her Girl Scout cookies.”
I snicker at that and shake my head.
“Really fucking funny, Ace,” Joaquin growls with a half-smile. “I’m not that fucking young.”
“But we’re just gonna skip over theGirlScouts part,” I ask with another laugh I can barely hold inside.
Joaquin flips me off. “Knock on the fucking door, Wild Man, and then stand aside in case the big scary woman fights back.”
I look to Ace, and he nods again toward the door, which means I’m the designated punching bag.
I give the door three firm knocks and take a cautious step back while I wait for Maven to answer the door. A shadow covers the peephole quickly, and light reappears. Seconds later, the locks, two deadbolts, and the screw lock on the knob disengage. The door opens with a chain as a barrier between us. “What is it, Wilder?”
I smile. “You remembered my name.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not a forgettable guy,” she says as if it’s the most difficult thing she’s said all day. “Why are you at my house? How did you find out where I live?”
I wiggle my fingers in front of my face with a grin. “I’ve got computer skills, babe.”
She gives a curt nod, still eyeing me suspiciously. “All right. Why are you here?”
“I need to talk to you. Actually,weneed to talk to you,” I say and nod toward Ace and Joaquin, standing behind me. “It’s important.”
Maven shuts the door and opens it a second later without the chain lock, shaking her head the same way she had earlier.
“I already told you that I’m not getting involved in whatever trouble is brewing between the two gangs.”
“Clubs,” I correct her with a grin.
“Whatever. I don’t know anything anyway. I only found out about Cyrus last night. Last. Night. Got it?”
I nod. “I got it, but I don’t think that’s the whole truth.”
She gasps, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You think I care enough to lie to you?”
“No,” I tell her seriously and take a step forward. I like her, and I would love nothing more than to fuck her, but MC business is the priority. Always. “I think you know more than you realize, and I just want to help you dig that intel out.”
She laughs. “Hannibal Lecter style, with a spoon?”
“Oh, gruesome,” Joaquin groans.
“Maven,” I say impatiently. “I just want to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?”
