“Oh, shit.” I didn’t think of that.
“Honestly, it’s no big deal, Striker. I don’t want anything. I just want to walk away.” She waves her arm to indicate the house. “This place is nothing but an enormous mortgage, anyway. I’m good with a clean slate.”
Ember’s face is relaxed. She seems well-rested, and happy. Right now, she’s not December Wells, attorney. She’s just Ember, the hot chick who screamed my name over and over last night.
And if I have anything to say about it, she’s gonna do it again real soon.
My cock wakes up at the thought.
“Hey,” I hear myself say. “You ever ridden a motorcycle before?”
She cocks a brow at me. “Do I look like someone who’s ridden a motorcycle?”
“Well, maybe it’s time you start. The club’s doing a poker run this weekend. Why don’t you come with me?”
Ember sets her coffee cup on the nightstand. “What’s a poker run?”
“It’s basically a poker game on wheels. You pay a hundred bucks to enter, and then you ride to a bunch of checkpoints, and you draw a single playing card at each one. The object is to have the best poker hand at the end of the run. Winner gets five-hundred dollars, and the rest of the money goes to charity.”
“What’s the charity?”
“We’re raising money for one our Lords family. Her name’s Eden. Her man was in the club, and he was killed a few months ago. She’s pregnant with his kid, and we’re raising money for the birth and to give her a good financial cushion for as long as we can.”
“Wow. That’s really nice.” Ember stares at me with an odd expression. “You know, you guys are a lot more family-oriented than I would have thought.”
“Family is everything,” I tell her sincerely. “Blood or not.”
Ember blinks. Somehow, I know she’s remembering what I told her about my brother Richie.
I clear my throat. “Anyway. You want to come?”
“It sounds like fun,” she says slowly. “Except what if I get on the bike and freak out?”
“Then I’ll take you to hang out with the women who aren’t riding along.”
“Will Cady be there?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay.” She exhales. “I’m a little shy in crowds, but if she’ll be there, I won’t be as nervous.”
“How are you shy in crowds? You’re a lawyer. You must speak in public all the time.”
“Being a lawyer is kind of persona. It’s a role I play, like an actor. But in real life, I’m… I don’t know. Shy, I guess. Introverted.”
“Cady will introduce you around. You’re gonna love the old ladies. I promise.”
“If you say so.” Ember glances at her phone. “I guess I’d better think about starting to get ready for work. I’m gonna go take a shower.”
“Yeah?” I wait a beat. “You want company?”
She looks at me coyly. “Ooh, I’ve never taken a shower with someone else before. I could use some help with those hard-to-reach places.”
I tell her I fully intend to explore every inch of her body under the steam and water.
And then, I do.
After all the hot water’s gone and Ember’s almost late to work, I follow behind her to her office. Jude’s already there, and I give him a one-finger wave as I drive off. I stop by my place first, to drop off my duffel and the tux, then go to Twisted Pipes to bring the Mercedes back and pick up my bike.
While I grab a greasy breakfast at the Downtown Diner, I pull out my phone and look up the address for the office where Ember’s ex works. Good thing his last name is so damn ridiculous it’s easy to remember.
Panty’s office is on the north side of downtown, not too far from the main hub, in a small white two-story building that’s got some fake Greek pillars on it. I recognize his Beemer right away as I pull up, parked front and center in a reserved spot. I laugh my ass off when I see his vanity plate reads SUCCESS. Fuckin’ typical.
I park the bike behind it and go in. The directory tells me his business is on the first floor to the right. I find the suite, push inside, and tell the middle-aged receptionist I need to see him.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, the sour-lemon face she gives me making it clear she knows I don’t.
“He’ll want to see me,” I assure her. “I’m a family friend.”
“Your name?”
I give her a shit-eating grin. “I want to surprise him.”
Still staring at me suspiciously, she picks up the phone and speaks a few words into the receiver. A few seconds later, Mark Fucking Pante comes out, swaggering like the officious prick he is. He blanches when he sees me.
“Panty.” I lift my chin at him.
“What are you doing here? What do you want?” His lip curls into a sneer.
“Need to talk to you,” I grunt. “In your office.”
I get the feeling he’s thinking about refusing. Then he glances over at the receptionist and gives a curt nod. “Fine.”
Panty swivels on his heel. I follow him into his office and close the door. When he turns back to me, my hand’s around his throat before he knows what’s happening. Pivoting, I get my foot under his legs and take his balance away from him, then slam him against the wall, pinning him there.
“You and I need to have a little talk,” I rasp. “This thing where you drove by Ember’s house last night, checkin’ up on her? That’s gonna stop. You don’t live there anymore. Which means you’ve crossed the line into stalker territory.”
“I’m… not… stalking…” he gasps. “Just wanted… to check… up… on… her…”
“Nope. Potato potahtoe. That’s stalking, motherfucker. You two are separated. Se-pa-ra-ted.” I say it loud and slow. “That’s a fancy word for ‘over’. From now on, you don’t show up there. You don’t drive by her place. You don’t go to her office. You keep your fuckin’ distance. You got me?”
Panty’s eyes bulge. “Are you seeing her?” he chokes.
I tighten my grip, cutting off his air enough that he starts to struggle.
“Ah, see, now that’s one of the things that ain’t your business anymore,” I explain in a tight voice. “Apparently, you’re a slow learner.” I wait a beat, savoring the view of him starting to turn a purplish shade of red.
“Stah—!” he wheezes, as he starts to claw at my hands. But he’s a fuckin’ pussy, and too scared to think straight. I slam him against the wall again.
“You don’t go to her office,” I repeat. “You don’t go to her house. You keep your distance. Are. We. Clear?”
Eyes wide with fear, he chokes out a yes.
I release my grip, shoving him back into the wall one more time for good measure as I do.
“Good,” I say. “Then we understand each other.” I take a step back, glancing around his office for the first time. “Nice decor, dude. A little fussy, though. Did your receptionist pick it out for you?”