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Dahlia’s playfulness was a breath of fresh air. Exactly what Trey needed.
Trey smiled, wrapping his hands over her hips and around her ass, pulling her against his chest. He kissed her, angling her head to exactly where he wanted her, and Dahlia obliged.
This felt too normal. It felt too right.
At the worst time, his phone rang. It didn’t deter or affect her. If anything, she deepened the kiss, sliding her fingers over his chest. If she was trying to distract him, it was working. But by the fourth ring, he turned his head and reached across the table, grabbing his cell. This was a part of his life, imbedded in him since he’d started with the Underground. Trey always answered the call.
When he saw the name, he immediately answered without a greeting.
“Did you find anything?”
“Yes,” Jared said. “It was taped to the top shelf in a hallway closet. It blended with the white paint. It was easy to miss.”
For Dahlia, but not for his men.
“Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Trey hung up. “They found the drugs and removed them.”
Dahlia drew in a breath, and her relief washed over her face. “Thank you.”
Trey smacked her ass lightly and lifted his chin. “Let’s go to bed.”
The corner of her mouth curled, and her gaze heated. Dahlia was off his lap in five seconds and halfway down the hall. He found her in his room, dressed only in one of his T-shirts, and if he had to guess, nothing beneath it. Easy access was exactly what he’d had in mind. He walked to the closet, taking off his jacket.
“Random question, but I’m curious. What’s your last name?”
“Serra.”
“Trey Serra,” Dahlia whispered, and Trey smiled. It was the way she said it as if she was memorizing it or giving it life in a sense. Dahlia said his name as if it meant something to her. I fucking like that.
“What’s your family like?”
Trey stilled, staring at the rack of clothes. It was rare anyone asked him anything personal and never about his past. Everyone who mattered in his life already knew. It was an unspoken rule between Trey, Rogue, and Oz that they never talked about their time before working with Sal. Why would they want to talk about it? They’d lived it.
“I don’t have any family.” Trey unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, and tossed it in the hamper behind him.
Dahlia laughed. “Care to elaborate on that?”
Trey turned to her seated on the bed, smiling up at him. “No.”
She pressed her lips together and looked down at the comforter. Maybe he’d been too harsh, but it would keep her from pressing for more. His life, his past, wasn’t up for discussion.
Trey decided to shift the subject back to her.
“How’d you end up at East?”
Dahlia’s cheeks immediately pinkened, and she shrugged. She was evading the question.
“Not going to tell me?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I want to know you.”
Dahlia blinked and bit her bottom lip. She was at odds with herself. He knew it.
