“Not talkin’ about me.”
The way he said that made it sound like he wasn’t going to talk about it, either, which made her even more curious. But she wouldn’t pry. If he wanted to tell her about his past, that was on him. The same way it was if he wanted to tell her about his son. She wasn’t going to demand things from him like he was doing with her.
She needed to go check on Daisy. It was not like her to sit still for this long. And she could only imagine what mess she’d find when she went back into the kitchen. Maple syrup art on the walls, most likely.
“My concern is letting a man into our life, her getting attached and then him disappearing like her father did. She misses him.”
His jaw shifted enough she could see it even through that bushy beard. “You miss him?”
“No. But I miss him for her. No matter what, he’s her father. He loved her and wasn’t a bad father, he just made bad choices.”
“Ain’t askin’ to be her pop, Cass. Just askin’ to bang her mother.”
Cass threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. “Ah, okay, then. Well, that settles it. Go pack a bag, I’ll make some room in the closet for you.” She shook her head. “I need to check on Daisy.” As she turned, he grabbed her wrist and spun her back toward him.
“Didn’t let me finish.”
“Oh? There was more? Sure sounded like you were done.”
His lips flattened out. “Yeah, there’s more.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Did you use ‘em to hear the fuckin’ part where I said I got a thing for you?”
“I figured you just meant a hard-on.”
“Cass,” he growled.
“Look, I like you. I do. But I have so much shit going on right now.”
“Yeah, and gonna help you with some of that.”
“And while I appreciate that, I’m not sure getting involved with you is smart right now.”
“Mommmmaaaaaa!”
She grimaced. “I’m surprised that didn’t happen sooner. Which makes me wonder what the kitchen looks like right now.”
“I’ll check on her. You go shower in peace. You’re done, I leave. I gotta go to work and talk to Deke. Make a plan to find Lange. Will drop Jury off later. Maybe even Justice. Either way, gonna let you know, so I need your number.”
“Juuuuuuuuuudge!”
“You okay, kid?” Judge yelled out. “All limbs still attached? Not bleedin’ out or anything?”
“I’m fiiiiiine. But you’re takin’ too long an’ I’m tired of sittin’ in this seat. My butt hurts!”
“Be there in a sec,” the man told her daughter, but still held Cassie’s eyes.
Holy crap. He was just stepping in like he belonged there. Who the hell was this man? “I can get her.”
“No. You do your thing while I’m here to watch her.”
“Judge...”
“Cass, just accept the help and don’t bitch about it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
He leaned in, brushed his mouth over hers, his beard tickling her chin, and when he lifted his head, he said, “Yeah, baby, it’s just that simple.” He released her, ordered her to “go,” smacked her hard on the ass and strode out of the living room to go check on her daughter.
Cassie stood there, rubbing the sting on her ass, staring in the direction he disappeared.
What the hell just happened?
Did she just agree to have Judge and his dog move temporarily into her sister’s house without actually agreeing?
That might have just happened.
Chapter Fourteen
Judge studied the Blood Fury insignia carved into the center of the table. He sat in the same seat his father used to. To the left of the club prez. Sig, as VP, sat to Trip’s right. They were the two top spots in the executive committee after the president. Positions that held almost as much responsibility.
Both the VP and the Sergeant at Arms were supposed to help the prez run the club. Make sure shit was being done and it was done right. Judge was to keep order within the club, make sure no one was being disloyal, and no one was being stupid, which could cause blowback on the MC.
He hoped there never came a day where he had to plug a .45 into the forehead of one of his brothers like Ox had.
Judge’s gaze circled the table. Besides Trip and Sig, Ozzy as Secretary, Deacon as Treasurer, and Cage as Road Captain sat at the table where important decisions were made.
And sometimes not so important ones.
But right now, Trip was talking about Shady, one of their prospects. Judge needed to pay attention.
He hadn’t liked the man when he first showed up. He was quiet. He didn’t jump on any pussy. He was sort of a loner. And that wasn’t normal within an MC.
That bugged the fuck out of Judge.
Without telling anyone, Judge had run a background check on him and besides the same kind of shit everyone else had been busted for in the past, nothing weird jumped out at him.
Judge’s respect for the prospect had bumped up a few notches after dealing with the Shirley Clan. He’d gone up there with the rest of them and quietly “dispatched” several Shirleys without blinking.
Maybe that should worry Judge. That emotionless, calm slicing of a throat. But for some reason it didn’t. To him, it was a man showing loyalty and dedication to his future brothers. And their women.
Because it never was only about the members. Ol’ ladies needed to be protected, too.
Which is one of the reasons why guilt laid heavily on him. Letting the Shirleys grab Autumn right from the farm, right from under their noses, was a big fuck-up. She could’ve been hurt badly or even killed.
Thank fuck she wasn’t.
Thank fuck she didn’t blame him because that would’ve made it even harder.
But Autumn—or Red, as Sig called her—showed Judge nothing but love. She was awfully goddamn forgiving for a woman who dealt with as much trauma as she had.
But then, she just wanted to put all of that behind her.
They all did.
Judge just needed to keep his finger on the pulse of those armed inbred hillbillies on that mountain. Because if they fucked with the club or the Fury family again, what happened up there the last time, when they went to rescue Autumn, would be like child’s play.
The next time, as Sig had told those fuckers, no one would survive.
They’d been warned.
His name being called pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see everyone staring at him. Jury’s head was in his lap and he had been rubbing her ears mindlessly. He did that a lot when he was lost in thought. Or ready to snap.
The Fury prez was frowning at him. “You with us?”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“You wanted Shady’s time as a prospect to be longer than six months. But instead of extendin’ it, thinkin’ we should patch him in a couple weeks early for his part in the shit that went down on the mountain. He proved himself.”
“Yeah, he did,” Sig agreed. “Guy’s got some big balls on him. Though, he could be scary as fuck. Those silent killers usually are.”
“He got military time? Some special ops shit or somethin’?” Ozzy scratched at his beard.