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Not on his watch.

The driver pulled up outside his gate. Raul had been here a few times with Steele. Spike didn’t like strangers coming up to the house, but Raul had been with Steele a long time.

The electric gates opened automatically, sensing the controller in his pocket. The car moved slowly up the driveway. Lights shone along the driveway then security lights flickered on at the house. It had six bedrooms and three bathrooms. There were two levels and a wrap-around porch. But he’d bought it because of the land. It was set on just less than five acres, on the outskirts of the city.

It was an older house he’d slowly renovated. The neighbors were far enough away that you couldn’t see or hear them. It gave him the privacy he wanted but he could still get into the city in under forty minutes.

“Oh wow,” Millie said, looking out at the farmhouse. She’d probably been expecting something more like where Ink lived. A big, renovated warehouse. Or maybe where Duke lived, a small house in suburbia.

Although, no one had really expected Duke to end up in a house like that. Duke was the only one out of them who regularly had everyone over to his place. Spike had been to Ink’s place maybe a handful of times. Razor’s place, he’d been to more often. He had no clue where Jason or Reyes lived. They were far more private.

Most of the people closest to him hadn’t seen his house, yet he’d fought Steele to bring a virtual stranger here.

Yep, he wasn’t going to think too closely about that one.

Raul opened her door. Shit. He’d been too slow. She tried to climb out but seemed to have forgotten about her seatbelt.

“Shoot,” she muttered. Reaching over, he undid it for her and she sent him a smile. It did something strange to his insides, seeing her smile at him like that.

Easy, idiot.

After getting out, he grabbed her suitcase from where Raul had set it on the ground and nodded his thanks to the other man. He left the piles of dog things outside for the moment. How she’d managed to accumulate so much stuff for one small dog in a few short days he had no idea. This dog owned more shit than he did.

The driver turned around and left. Spike started up the steps and pressed a code into the keypad by the door. When the light went green, he pressed his finger to the pad reader.

“Whoa, that’s high-tech. Back home most people don’t even lock their doors when they leave the house.”

Okay, he did not like the sound of that. But he bit back his reply as he led the way inside. He reset the alarm and checked the camera for the front gate to make sure that Raul had gone through.

“Are you some kind of security tech specialist?” she whispered.

“Nah, just like my privacy.” Ink had put in the system himself. He was the only one of the guys who had been here. He’d teased him for a while, calling him rancher Spike, even though he didn’t have near enough land for a farm nor did he own any animals. But still that asshole had continued to rib him.

At least until Spike gave him a black eye and told him to shut the fuck up before he got really mad.

Ink had just grinned.

Jerk.

“Oh,” she said, staring in awe at the system. The video feed flicked continuously through the cameras around the property, letting him see it from all angles. Although the alarms would tell him if there were any intruders.

“Come.”

He led her through the house. Lights flicked on as they walked, set on sensors once the sun went down.

His footsteps were silent on the hardwood floors as he walked to the stairs. “Kitchen’s downstairs to the right. Help yourself.” There were four bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. He stopped outside the door to one of the spare bedrooms. He pointed across the hall. “Bathroom.” He opened the door. “Your room.”

The light came on, showing the fairly utilitarian room. A bed with a gray cover. A set of bedside drawers. A wardrobe. And a large window looking out on the back garden. He set her suitcase on the bed and strode to the curtains, pulling them closed.

“I’ll get the dog’s stuff.” And the bag full of counterfeit. Which he’d stick in his safe. Fucking hell. He should probably just burn the stuff.

“O-okay. I’ll help you.”

“No.”

She flinched and he grimaced. He wasn’t used to explaining himself.

“Cold out. Stay in where it’s warm.”


Tags: Laylah Roberts MC Daddies Erotic