“Warden was with me.”
I pull a deep breath in through my clenched teeth and start to count to ten, only making it to five before I grind out, “There was no plan in place for you to have an escort. You didn’t tell me about going to work today. I would have made sure someone was there, or I would have been up.”
“You need to sleep,” she tries to explain, her words a gentle and loving protest for what she thinks is right, what she thinks is caring.
“I need to make sure you’re safe,” I tell her, my voice softening slightly. “I’m sure Dad was up early and happened to be in the clubhouse when you came down. It was happenstance, not planning.” I stare into her eyes to make sure she sees how serious this is. “That’s dangerous and I am not risking you. Ever.”
“Yeah,” she breathes out. “I pretty much regretted coming here the moment I saw the backdoor and the handle fall off in Warden’s hands.”
My grip tightens on Graycie, her words slicing through me and making the fear inside of me, the feeling I’ve been wrestling with since the moment I was yanked out of my dreams, sprout talons. The feeling slashes through me devastatingly.
I drop my forehead down to hers, needing her to hear me. “Please,” I beg her, “don’t ever do something like that again. You were planning to come here by yourself. What if there had been someone here? Graycie, I-,” I start, but my words get cut off.
“Nothing is missing,” Dad’s voice cuts through some of the tension in the room.
But not all of it.
Because I haven’t had the chance to kiss my woman.
No. That’s not true. I had the chance, but I chose to put my fear and worry front and center.
“Shit,” I bite out. “Graycie-girl,” I murmur, “I see you.”
My lips take hers, the kiss starting out coaxing and teasing, like relearning each other in new light, but then something hungry takes over. I can’t get enough. Of her taste. Of her body pressed against mine.
“This is quite the show,” Playboy whistles from somewhere far too close for my liking.
And reality snaps back into focus around me.
Damn it.
I peck my woman’s lips once. Twice. Three times.
Then I tuck her into my side and look over to find Playboy leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. There’s a playful smile on his face, but his eyes keep darting toward somewhere else in the kitchen.
I give my brother, who doesn’t know when to be serious, a death glare, but he’s not bothered. Not even a little bit. He winks at me. The fucker winks at me.
With a kiss to my woman’s temple, I murmur, “I should have kissed you first. I’m sorry.” I pull back and look into her eyes, needing to know the answer to the question I should have asked. “Are you okay?”
Her arm wraps around my waist and something in the depths of me sighs with the contact.
“Yeah,” she breathes out, “I’m okay.” She looks over at Dad with a soft, sweet smile on her face. “I’m really glad I had Warden with me.”
“Pretty sure you can just start calling me Dad, Graycie,” Dad’s voice is thick, but he’s still on high alert and ready for anything.
Even in this fucked up situation, my woman has a way about her. It’s just natural.
Whiskey walks back into the room and nods at me. “I’ve done a sweep and didn’t detect anything, nothing putting off a signal at least.”
Lara huffs and throws her hands up. I can’t really blame her.
Playboy makes a sound in the back of his throat. Lara cuts a look in his direction that would have my balls shriveling up and taking up permeant residence somewhere around my diaphragm. Just in case.
Kind of like a migration.
But balls instead of geese.
“Since nothing was taken or destroyed, I think we have to air on the side of this having to do with you, Angel.” I hate the words, even though they’re right, because my woman’s face falls the moment they register. “We’re going to head back to the compound and it’s where you’ll need to stay until we figure out what’s going on. Not even work now, not now,” I plead with her.