When I reached the door to my room, it was quiet on the other side. My first thought was that Oakley had somehow got away. But she’d been too curious to take off without having her questions answered, so I told myself to chill the fuck out and opened the door.
I had a house on a couple of acres not far from the compound, and I’d been slowly fixing it up for the last few years. It was habitable now but still unfurnished. And it was just easier to stay at the clubhouse, so I had a permanent room here.
Inside was a king-size bed, a nightstand, dresser, couch, and a flat screen mounted on the wall. I’d also added a small bookshelf with a stash of novels. The room was decently sized, but I didn’t have the seniority yet to snag a room with a private bath. Which meant Oakley and I needed to move ASAP because if any of my brothers accidentally saw her in any state other than completely covered, I’d lose my shit.
The idea of shopping for the house had always made me grimace. Then I opened the door and saw my sweet, innocent girl curled up on my couch reading the spy novel that had been on the little table beside the bed.
Maybe…I mentally grinned at my brilliant idea. I’d just give Oakley my credit card and tell her to buy whatever she wanted. It was going to be her home too, so she might as well be the one to pick everything out.
Her head lifted, and she pushed her glasses up her nose as she smiled at me. “Hi.”
I grunted in response because I was too fucking distracted by thoughts of seeing her in those cute glasses and nothing else.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a reader,” she commented in a teasing tone. “Especially these kinds of books.” She gestured to the bookcase, indicating my mixed collection of action/adventure, science fiction, mysteries, thrillers, and some of the classics, like David Copperfield.
My lips curled up as I walked in and shut the door behind me. “And what does my taste in books tell you about me?”
Oakley chuckled, and her cheeks tinged with pink. “That you have a great imagination?”
I raised an eyebrow, and my smile turned salacious as I ran my eyes over her from head to toe. “You’re right, baby. I have a very creative imagination.”
When my gaze returned to her face, her skin was flushed bright red. Hunger flared inside me when I spotted the tendrils of desire in her pretty brown eyes.
“So, um…” She shifted on the couch, looking a little restless. I couldn’t help wondering if it was because she was wet. I was dying to find out, but she continued talking, and I wanted to answer her questions and get that out of the way before I took her to bed.
“We should talk before it gets too late. Not that I have any plans for tomorrow, but I don’t want you to have to take me home in the middle of the night.”
I didn’t confirm or deny her assumption that I would be taking her back to her old place. She’d figure it out when she was underneath me in bed.
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked instead.
“What were you doing breaking into Judge Timkin’s chambers?”
There was a lot that I couldn’t share with her, so I was glad she started with a question I could actually answer. “Trying to gather evidence that he’s been taking bribes in return for certain sentences.”
Oakley looked dubious when she replied, “I don’t know…he has to follow the protocols and laws.”
I sat down next to Oakley, but it didn’t feel right, so I grasped her hips and lifted her sideways onto my lap. Then I brushed her bangs out of her face and smiled before dropping my hand to rest it on her thigh. “I love that you’re so innocent and see sunshine in every dark corner. I hate to be the one to darken any part of it. However, you need to know…the judge is a very corrupt, very dangerous man. When someone knows the legal system as well as he does, they can find all the ways around it.”
She bit her lip and folded her hands demurely in her lap—it was adorable. “How do you know this about him?” Her expression and tone implied that she believed me, and I wanted to kiss her for giving me a little more of her trust.
“I can’t tell you that, baby. It’s club business.”
“Even though I’m directly involved?” she spouted indignantly.
“Directly?” I repeated with a laugh, then gentled my tone when she looked disgruntled. “That’s a bit of a stretch, baby. You were in the wrong place, at the wrong time”—or right place at the right time, depending on how you looked at it—“and that’s the only reason I’ve shared as much with you as I have. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't know anything about this shit.”