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“You’re right, of course.” I have no fucking clue whoDaddyeven is. That’s not even his real name, and what I know about Steven Morgan Jefferson couldn’t fill a fucking shot glass. So really, does it even matter what Daddy thinks about anything? He’s been lying to me my whole damn life. And days after he was taken into custody, has he checked in with the daughter he sheltered for more than two decades?
No. A big fat fucking no.
So I guess it doesn’t matter what Daddy thinks about Lucky or about me dating Lucky, but what does matter is what Lucky thinks. I worry that this semi-relationship is just a hot fuck fest born out of intense emotions and proximity.
Will Lucky forget about me when the Reckless Souls’ business with Morgan International is over? Is he just biding his time while I’m sitting here thinking that this thing with him, whatever it is, feels like more than a few hot orgasms?
“This is so fucking confusing, Coco.”
He growls as if he really does understand, and I give him a very energetic belly rub.
I sit and stew in my confusion over my feelings about Lucky and the man previously known as Geoffrey Morgan. I can’t do anything about Daddy until or if the feds release him. But Lucky? I know how I feel about him and what I want from him. The hardest part is figuring out how to tell him.
“Ugh,” I groan and fling myself backward on the bed. What the fuck does that even look like? Telling the man I’ve been a raging bitch to for weeks now, who I wouldn’t even let inside my home, that I now have heart eyes for him? “He’ll laugh in my face.” And I’m not in the headspace for that kind of humiliation right now.
“Who’ll laugh in your face?”
I didn’t hear the door opening or Lucky as he stepped inside the room. I scramble up and take a long look at my bodyguard. Now that I’ve admitted my feelings for him to myself, I notice everything about him. The first thing I notice is that he looks exhausted. Utterly fucking spent.
“No one.” I frown and push up onto my knees. “Are you okay?”
He flashes a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and his lips twist into a half-grin. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, but I can see it written all over his face. There’s fear and concern in his eyes. The hint of a scowl still furrows his brow.
Instantly, I’m off the bed and standing in front of him, running my hands all over his body the way I should have done the minute that asshole ran from the mansion.
“Are you all right? Talk to me, Lucky.” I slip my hands under his t-shirt, searching for any sign that the guy who broke into the mansion had hurt him.
“I’m not hurt, Princess.” He grabs both of my wrists to stop my hands from roaming all over his big, hard body. “And I’m not fucking fine, but I will be. I learned a lot today.”
“I can relate to that.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but I don’t care. I want to do or say something to make him feel better, to provide him with the same level of comfort he’s given to me. “I’m guessing it’s something bad?”
“Yes and no. It’s just…a lot, Aria.”
“You want to talk about it?”
He gives one firm shake of his head, and my heart sinks. He doesn’t want to share the burden with me because I’m not that important to him. This is all about sex, and sex only. “I can’t. Not yet.”
I clench my lips and nod that I understand, but it feels like he’s tossing me a bone to make me feel better. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me any explanations. Just tell me if it’s safe to go back home?”
His gaze locks with mine, and his brows dip in the center.
“No, Aria. It’s not safe for you to go back home. Birmingham got away, and those two bullets were meant for you. We don’t know who else is out there, either. So, we’re staying here for the foreseeable future.”
My shoulders relax at his words, and I’m shocked that I don’t feel more fear or anxiety about staying here with his biker friends and their women.
“Okay. Is, uhm, is everyone okay with me staying here?”
“Of course,” he nods. “Why wouldn’t they be? No one’s gonna say a damn thing to you, Princess.” He laughs. “Well, they might, but nothing that’s going to get you kicked out. Got it?”
I nod and look around the room, assuming this will be where I stay. “Am I allowed out of this room?”
Lucky nods and drops one hand and then the other on my shoulders, sliding them down until our hands are clasped together.
“You’re not a prisoner, Aria. You can roam the clubhouse and some of the grounds but try not to forget that someone tried to kill you. Okay?”
I swallow down that giant lump of fear that his reminder tugs to the surface. I shake my head to let him know I get it. “Don’t think I’ll be forgetting that anytime soon.”
He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “The first time someone tries to kill you is always the hardest.”
