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Igritted my teeth as I watched Dahlia’s sexy hips sway as she walked into the bedroom. I didn’t want her out of my sight, but I appreciated that she immediately understood the need for privacy while I handled club shit. As the president of the Iron Rogues, my old lady would need to understand the rules and her role, so it just hammered home the knowledge that Dahlia was fucking perfect for me.
My call was unavoidable, but I was gonna get through that shit as fast as possible. The thought of Dahlia naked, with water running over her curves…fuck. My cock was in danger of punching a hole through my pants.
Quickly, I checked the doors and windows before setting the alarm, then retrieved the sat phone from the kitchen and dropped onto the couch.
“Seems you survived the weather if you’re calling from the safehouse,” Maverick muttered when he answered after the third ring, sounding irritated and a little out of breath. I didn’t have to guess what he’d been up to...especially since I heard Molly tell him to be patient. I had no desire to know what she was talking about.
“Your concern is touching,” I deadpanned.
“You got a hand for that, asshole.”
“Is that what Molly said to you right before I called? It would explain the ‘fuck you’ vibe you’re putting off.”
Maverick snorted. “Got a real good response to that comment, but I’m not talking about my old lady and sex with anyone. So you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
“What’s happening with the storm?” I asked, not willing to waste any more time trading insults with my VP.
“Lex text you about the bridge?”
“Yeah. Gonna be stuck here for a few days.”
“I’m sure you’re real broken up about that,” Maverick quipped. “Take my advice, spend the time knocking up your woman. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to get Mac to back off if your old lady is pregnant.”
I grunted. “Already the plan.”
Maverick laughed. “Turns out, we’re just like our old men, aren’t we?”
I cracked a smile at that. My dad had seen my mom at a drag race. She’d been there with a group of friends, and supposedly, one of them had been her date. But she’d ended up on the back of my dad’s bike that night and knocked up with a ring on her finger within a month. Maverick’s dad, Rock, had a similar story with his old lady.
“Hear anything else from the DeLucas?” The DeLucas were New York Mafia and one of our best clients. Cordell was an underling, but since he was a second cousin or some shit to the boss, Nic, he’d tried to pull rank with us several times. Demanding to only deal with Mav or me, micromanaging our deliveries, and just being a fucking tool that nearly got him a bullet in the skull every time we worked with him.
The last job was a complete clusterfuck, and eventually, we realized that Cordell had stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and fucked everything up.
Maverick practically growled. “I’m gonna kill that fucker if I ever see him again. You better be prepared to deal with his ass from now on unless you want to risk our relationship with the DeLucas.”
Sighing, I rubbed the bridge of my nose and muttered, “I’ll call Nic. We’ve been working together long enough that I don’t think he’ll balk at requesting a new contact.” Nic and I had known each other since my days at Princeton. I hesitated to do business with a friend, but Nic was as professional and as lethal as I was. We respected each other, and our mutual “interests” made the relationship work on both levels.
Maverick grunted in agreement.
The sound of running water and the shower door closing caught my attention. I needed to finish my work shit as fast as possible. “There are no more meetings scheduled for this week, so for the next few days, don’t call me unless someone is dead or the club is burning down, got it?”
“Understood.”
I hung up and grabbed my cell. The service had been knocked out, but I had Nic’s number stored in it.
It was almost ten at night in New York, so I knew his kids would be in bed. But when he wasn’t working late, Nic spent his nights with his wife. And interrupting that without an emergency could get a man a one-way ticket to the bottom of the East River. So I called his desk phone instead of his cell. If he didn’t answer, I’d call Enzo, his number two.
It wasn’t necessary, though, because Nic picked up after the first ring. “DeLuca.”
“It’s Fox.”
“Buonasera, Kye. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I didn’t think assigning someone else to your shipments meant we wouldn’t talk for months at a time.” Nic chuckled, obviously not insulted by my lack of communication. Phones went both ways, and running big organizations took a fuck ton of work.
“Yeah, things have been crazy. I’ve been meaning to check in.”
“I understand.” His next words were muffled, sounding like he’d covered the receiver. Then he spoke clearly again. “Gianna said hello and demanded that you and your dad come for a visit.”
Gianna—or Anna to everyone except Nic—was his wife. He was well-known for his obsession and being overprotective of his wife, so it said a lot about our friendship that I knew her and their kids so well.
