“I’m too tired for surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
I introduced Slash to Waverly, who was pretending to be all slick and cool, but when Slash looked at her, she blushed.
“We better hit the road,” Willa said.
“Yeah, Gray texted. The tiny humans are giving him hell.” Darcy shook her head. “Lily wanted to come, but I didn’t know how to politely tell her she would be in the way.”
“I promise to make her something special when all this is done,” I said.
“You spoil her.” Darcy hugged me. “I’ll be back tomorrow, too.”
Everyone filed out of the kitchen, and Waverly stole one final look at Slash. I pretended not to see her gaze lingering with curiosity and fascination.
“I think Waverly just became the definition of trouble,” I said to Slash. I grabbed my purse, made sure I had my phone and left the kitchen.
“What makes you say that?” he asked as he took my hand and laced his fingers through mine.
“She’s utterly fascinated by you,” I announced. “And her sister is best friends with two bikers. I’m pretty sure Waverly is going to want a biker of her very own.”
“What was the kid doing here?” he asked. “She didn’t have school?”
“She was suspended. She’s smart though. I think school bores her. Actually, she was my little shadow today and she was just…hungry to learn.” I smiled up at him. “It kind of made me happy to have a protégée.”
I frowned when he turned in the direction of the lobby. “Where are we going? Parking garage is the other way.”
“We’re not going to the parking garage,” he said.
“So where are we going?”
He winked. “That’s part of your surprise.”
We arrived at an elevator, and he pushed the button. A moment later, the doors opened and we got inside. Slash took a card from his breast pocket and slid it into the slot and then he pressed the PH button.
“What did you do?” I demanded.
“Before you get all bent out of shape, thinking I spent a shit-ton of money on this suite—which I would’ve had no problem doing, by the way—I asked Colt for a favor, and he did me a solid.”
“Did you a solid?” I repeated with a grin. “Is that old person slang?”
“Is that any way to talk to your man? Your man who got the penthouse suite for the next week so we can crash here and not commute?”
“A week?” I repeated.
The doors to the penthouse opened, and my mouth gaped. The living room was bigger than the entire apartment over the bakery, and the suite itself was larger than the house I was renting with Slash.
“Is that—that’s my bag,” I said, pointing to the couch.
“Yep.”
“You went back to Waco to pack me a bag and then booked a penthouse suite just so I didn’t have to drive home?”
“I didn’t want prospects rummaging around in your underwear drawer. That shit is for my eyes only.”
“You mean the lacy black things that you enjoy shredding with your teeth?”
He quirked his lips. “And something else.”