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Including the club president.
“It’s your wife,” Ink half whispered.
Gate dropped the pages and stood, “She downstairs?”
Ink threw him a nod, “You want me to bring her up?”
Gate scrubbed a hand across the scruff of his jaw and thought. “Yeah, and when Talon gets here, tell him to give me a minute.”
Ink threw him a chin nod, “Gotcha.”
Gate dropped ass to leather and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, and about the time Anna hit the door, he was pouring the second glass of scotch.
And when he took her in top to toe, he was glad he hadn’t dicked around with cheap liquor because his woman looked like a million bucks.
He held a glass across his desk, “You look good, Anna.”
Anna crossed the floor, her heels working all kinds of magic for the sway of her hips.
She took the glass, throwing the liquor back in one shot. She sucked in a breath and then held out the glass again, “You mind?”
Gate grinned, “Not at all.”
He watched Anna sip this time, and then her eyes roamed over his office and he wondered what she thought.
The space was a whole lot of black and leather and industrial cool shit as far as he was concerned, but then it had been conceived by Talon and approved by him, so nobody had worried about the feminine perspective at the time, and Gate had only allowed one other woman up here, and Talon was about to marry her.
Anna’s eyes caught on the framed photos behind Gate’s desk and stayed there.
He let her look.
Then she blinked and came back from wherever her mind had gone, “This is really nice, Gate.”
Gate sipped his own whiskey and then nodded, “Gotta say seeing you in it is a hell of an improvement.”
Anna chewed the inside of her lip and turned to pace across the office.
Gate could swear she blushed.
He set his glass on the desk and crossed his arms. Intrigued, he went on, “Also gotta say this is a surprise.”
“Kind of surprised me too,” Anna agreed, half turning back to him.
She angled herself toward the door, and Gate figured she was measuring her escape.
Now that he had her in his space, and liking her presence there the way he did, Gate circled the desk and leaned a hip against it. “So what can I do for you? The kids need anything?”
Anna turned the glass in her hands, “No, nothing like that.” She drew a breath and seemed to steel her spine, “I wanted to thank you for what you did. Deuce might have been the one who escorted Jeff to the judge’s office, but you’re the one who made it happen.”
Gate’s voice went low, “I can make anything happen for you.”
Anna took two steps toward the door and then stopped, turned, and paced back to the outside wall.
Gate watched the show, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. She usually avoided him like the plague, but she wasn’t skittish.
Gate cocked his head, “What’s doing, Anna? You’re twitchy, and that’s not like you.”
Anna took another sip and sighed, “I got some information from Sandy, Jeff’s mom.”
