Eli tugs on his earlobe. “Because it’s not the story Meg told Emily and it sure as hell isn’t your place to ask.”
I hold my hands up in surrender.
“She’s my daughter. The only one I have and the only child I’ll ever have. I see the fear in her eyes, I sense her hesitancy, but when I get her to smile it makes up for all those moments in between. I got this one chance. My last chance. I don’t want to blow what little time I have left with her so no, I don’t want anyone rocking her world.”
I nod my understanding, but remain silent because there’s nothing to say when he tells it like it is.
“Keep her in the dark,” Eli says. “And consider that an order. Tell me you understand and tell me now.”
“I got it.”
He claps my arm. “You’re a good man. It’s why I’m trusting you with her.”
“That mean I’m a prospect?”
Eli releases a crazy-ass grin as he walks away. “Don’t push your luck.”
It was worth a try. A pat on my back and I glance beside me to spot Dad. “You must have been discussing Emily.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Eli only looks like someone split his rib cage wide-open and stole his heart when he talks about her...” Dad doesn’t end the sentence as if a period belonged at the end. He said it as if there was more, but he’d decided to stop. “It’s a place of high honor and esteem for him to trust Emily with you.”
“You telling me not to screw it up?”
“Yeah. I am.” Dad’s tall like me. A year ago, I matched his height. A few gray strands mingle with his short black hair. He exhales as if he’s weighted and that catches my attention. “That graduation gift was because we thought you’d be joining the business this week. It wasn’t a gift for joining the club.”
“I know.” In order to work for the security company, I earned my gun permit a few weeks ago.
“This stuff with Emily and the Riot has complicated our world. It’s a heavy thing, carrying. A certain responsibility. You can’t bring back a life once it’s taken. You know if you need to talk about anything...the club, this stuff with Emily...anything—I’m here.”
Raised in this life for eighteen years, I know this, but if Dad needs to say it, I’ll give him the respect he deserves. “I’m good.”
“Then we’re good. Watch your six,” he says as a reminder to watch my back.
“Same to you.”
Without a word to anyone, Eli and Cyrus straddle their bikes and strap on their helmets. That one act causes everyone else to mount up and start their motorcycles. Soon the yard shakes with the thunder of angry engines. Cyrus pulls out with Eli on his right. They head onto Thunder Road toward the main drag and the guys follow behind them in pairs.
On the porch, Mom watches the men ride off. She won’t sleep much until Dad’s back in town. Olivia appears beside Mom and wraps an arm around Mom’s waist. Sitting inside on the window seat with sexy disheveled hair is my responsibility for the next week: Emily.
Reminder to self: hands off.
Emily
FOR SOME ODD reason ther
e’s a full-length mirror on the wall in the kitchen so with no one around, I suck in a lungful of air and pivot on my toes. Oh, sweet Caroline, my butt is a centimeter away from hanging out of this jean skirt. If I were to bend over, my underwear would show, and possibly other girly things. Who the heck wears stuff this short?
Lars waddles into the kitchen and deposits his butt on my toes. He glances up at me with those droopy eyes and blinks once. “I don’t like you.”
He whines. I wiggle my toes, but he remains on my feet. With a sigh, I return my focus to the material that is not doing its job.
“Nice ass,” Oz says.
I spin, knocking Lars off, then realize I’ve given Oz a view of my rear so I spin again. Oz hooks his thumbs into his jean pockets and lazily cocks a hip against the door frame.
I’ve been avoiding him—on purpose. Because we kissed. Actually, I all but seduced him and then he kissed me and then there was lots of touching and then I sort of blackmailed him.