He began to speak and she held up her hand, effectively stopping him. “Listen, I haven’t even had my coffee this morning, I’ve had a very long night and your pounding on my door at the butt crack of dawn caused me to break one of my favorite plates. So, this better be good,” she growled.
The well-dressed man opened his mouth to speak again and Viv once again stopped him. “And, before you tell me you’re here to sell me something, help me find Jesus or that I’ve won some sweepstakes I haven’t entered, let me remind you that I haven’t had my coffee yet and most days, it’s the only thing that keeps me from killing people. Especially people who show up on my doorstep unannounced and pound on my door before seven in the morning. Now—” she said, taking a deep breath. “What can I do for you?”
He hesitated as if he wasn’t quite sure she was going to let him speak at all and she wildly waved her hands in the air as if silently telling him to get on with it. “I’m looking for Cillian James. He also goes by Kill,” he said. “I was told he works for your diner, Miss Ward, and I’m hoping you can tell me where I can reach him. His last place of residence called to tell me that he checked out last night and I’m worried he’s in violation of his parole.”
Now it was Viv’s turn not to talk. She worried that she had just opened her front door and invited in trouble for the man who had spent most of the night making her his. The same man who was asleep in her bed.
“And you are?” she asked.
He held out his hand, “Jackson Hart,” he offered as if that would explain everything. “But, everyone calls me Hart. I’m Cillian’s parole officer.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Viv noticed the way he looked her up and down and suddenly realized she was wearing nothing but Cillian’s Harley shirt.
“Hey babe,” Cillian said, bouncing down her stairs in just his boxer briefs. “What’s all the commotion?” He stopped dead when he found his parole officer at her front door.
“Hart,” Cillian said. “Why the hell are you here?” he asked. Cillian looked Viv up and down. “Where the feck are your clothes, Viv?” he growled. Cillian moved to stand between her and his grumpy looking parole officer as if the damage hadn’t already been done.
“He’s already seen me,” she said.
“Well, he’s finished looking,” Cillian growled. “You haven’t said why you are here. I’m not supposed to check in for three more days.”
“You checked out of your motel and they called to let me know,” Hart said. “It’s protocol.”
“Bullshit,” Cillian growled. “You’re keeping tabs on me but you will find that I’ve done nothing wrong—so check away. I left my shit hole motel because I found a job and another place to stay. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”
“You didn’t mention that you had a girlfriend on the outside.” Hart almost sounded as if he was accusing Cillian of something and Viv could feel the tension rolling off his big body.
“I just met Viv yesterday. I will be working at her diner,” Cillian said.
Hart tried to look around Cillian to where she stood in the doorway, but he blocked the parole officer’s view with his big body. “You do know that he is a felon, right Miss Ward? I took the liberty to run your background check and you’re clean—squeaky clean. Why would you associate with a known felon?” Now it was Viv’s turn to be pissed. She sidestepped Cillian and stood almost chest to chest with his parole officer.
“You had no right to run my background check,” she growled. “Furthermore, it’s none of your fucking business what is happening between Cillian and me. I knew who he was when I hired him.”
“And, how about when you fell into bed with him—did you know who he was then?” Hart asked. She could tell he was trying to make Cillian angry but why? He was certainly taking the bait. He was crowding the parole officer and she thought for sure Cillian was going to hit him.
“He’s not worth it,” she said, trying to get him to stand down. “Let’s just go inside and have breakfast. You have Cillian’s new address, Mr. Hart. I’d appreciate a heads up if you plan on stopping by my residence and for the love of God, come during normal business hours and not before I’ve had my coffee.”
“I’ll have my eye on you, James,” Hart called after him as she tried to drag Cillian into her house.
“Good to know,” Cillian called back over his shoulder, just before he slammed the front door in Hart’s face.
CILLIAN
A few months had passed and Kill had spent most of his days working at the diner and his nights in Viv’s bed. Once he had her there was no way he was going to go sleep in the spare room. She didn’t seem to protest his proposal when he said he’d like to share her room. They had become pretty much inseparable and Viv even ended up going with him to meet with his probation officer every week. He had a feeling that after her first encounter with Hart, she wanted to prove that she wasn’t just some quick fuck. Not that Kill would ever consider her that.
Everything seemed to be working out for him until a few of his club buddies showed up at the diner asking to see him. Viv warned them that he’d be violating his parole if he agreed to talk to them but judging from the looks on their faces, something was up and he couldn’t just turn them away. She agreed to let them use her office and when he asked her to give them a minute, he didn’t miss the hurt and upset in her eyes.
“Fine,” she scoffed. “But much longer than that and I’m coming back here to break this little meeting up.”
“Deal,” he agreed. He waited for Viv to leave before shutting her office door. “Let’s have it, boys,” he said. “You three don’t look very happy to see me,” he teased.
“It’s Savage, Kill,” Ryder said. Out of all the three of them, Kill knew Ryder the best. Repo seemed pretty cool but Snake had quite the reputation for being a badass. He was warned by a few guys in the group to steer clear of him.
“What’s up with Savage?” Kill asked. Savage lived with his husband, Bowie, and his wife, Dallas, about twenty minutes from Viv’s place. He hadn’t seen much of them since moving into Viv’s house and that was on him. Savage was one of his best friends. He helped him so much once he got out, even giving him some cash to get by until he could find a job. He had gotten caught up with his new life and woman, which was no excuse. Kill suddenly felt like a first-class ass for not checking in with Savage after everything he had done for him.
“It’s his oldest kid,” Repo said. “She’s missing and he said to tell you he’s calling in that favor you owe him.”
“Chloe’s missing?” Kill said. She was one of the coolest kids he’d ever met. She was only seven years old but she was as bossy as the day was long. When Savage took him apartment hunting, she liked to point out where he should put furniture and how to set things up. When Kill told her he didn’t have anything to put anywhere, she quickly added that he should go out and buy some furniture. He told her he’d get right on that but everything changed so quickly for him.