“Weird, you don’t look all that surprised,” I commented dryly, turning my cap around to shield my eyes from the afternoon sun.
“Yeah, well, the world is undeserving of me being both a rock god and an actor.They only get one, and I decided rock god was it.”He cocked a brow, and I could see a hint of Grier’s features in his face.“Do you need help moving in?”
“I’m not moving in,” I corrected.Yet.For now, I was just leaving clothes here.I wasn’t sure if Grier was ready for me to tell her I was selling my house, or that I’d already switched my address on my bank accounts.And my driver’s license.
Baby steps.
He smirked, slapping his hand on my shoulder and squeezing hard.Once.Twice.“That’s what I said to Shaw when I started moving her stuff into my apartment way back when.Called it an indefinite sleepover.Labels don’t matter.Until they do.And guess what, my dude?Today, they do.”His blue eyes sharpened.“To me, specifically.Grier might not need clarification on what this is, but I sure as hell do.”
Fuck.
At that moment, it didn’t matter that I was the sheriff and served an entire county.It didn’t matter that I was a legacy in the community or that my family could and definitely would bury a person who harmed one of their own.And it did not fucking matter that I had been the one helping four bikers and a certifiable psychopath dismember a body and feed it to a pack of pigs the night before.Sometimes serve and protect meant ensuring justice got handled in the dark, not by the book.
Right then and there, I was a simple man standing in front of a father whose only goal in life was to keep his girls happy and safe.
And that made him the bigger, more dangerous bear.
“Sir—”
“None of that bullshit,Sheriff.You just tell me straight up if you’re gonna make my little girl continue to smile like I’ve been seeing her smile the last few weeks.Or if you’re gonna make her cry like she almost did yesterday.”
He stepped closer, his hand squeezing even harder, thatalmostechoing between us.Almost didn’t count, unless it was Grieralmostcrying.Because of me, even if I’d never willingly cause her tears.
I suddenly heard an unholy roar inside my head.My woman would not ever shed a tear that I put in her eyes, because I was never going to give her a reason to.
“Be real careful how you answer that, son.I may only be a rock star, but I have no problem burying a body when it comes to one of my girls.”
Grier
If Mom had givenme more time, I would have showered.Instead, she’d told me right as she was shoving a plate of cookies in my face.I’d been hungry, and I had a weak spot for her cookies.They were the best cookies, made with love, straight from Papa’s recipe that he’d perfected before I was even born.
Good thing for Mom that no one could smell me through those pictures.The barn clung to me, scents that I loved—sunshine, hay, animal fur—mixed with things that I’d grown nose blind to—sweat, dirt, manure.
A team of makeup artists and a photographer were already working when I walked in.They flew in for these sessions, sometimes bringing a few models of their own.Other times, if it was simple, everyday wear, Mila’s daughters Ireland and Israel modeled.Once her nieces, Gigi and Lili, had offered.
I’d seen the pictures.They were gorgeous.
Those pictures lasted on the site for two days before they were pulled, and Mom begged me to model for the reshoots.No one ever gave me a solid answer as to why, but I had a feeling it had to do with Gigi and Lili’s dad and the amount of skin that was exposed.Gian was a little over the top, borderline helicopter, even though his daughters had been well over eighteen at the time.Fallon had even stepped in, because it had been so last minute and she’d been home.
This collection was not everyday wear.No jeans or tops or dresses.It was Mom’s new intimate line.Her items were exquisite, designed to make a woman feel beautiful and delicate without sacrificing comfort.
Pursuing modeling, following in my mother’s career path, had never been something I’d aspired to.From the time I was five, I knew all I wanted was to help animals.But I was my mother’s daughter and I had a natural talent in front of a camera, so if she needed my help, I did what I could.
But, I decided as I was rushed through makeup while the artist wrinkled her nose at my BO, it was going to start costing Mom more than a plate of cookies if she wanted future help.
“I’m warning you now, Mom,” I told her as I stood up and adjusted the panties I’d just pulled on.“Next time you need a favor that requires the world seeing my booty, it’s gonna cost you a new barn.”
“Okay,” she said absently, already making adjustments to the bra I was wearing.
“Not a small barn either.”
She stepped back, scanning me critically from head to toe.“When was the last time you had a pedicure?”
“Spring break, when Love was home from college,” I said with a shrug.We’d gone to the salon at the mall an hour away.It was a long drive, and I wished we had more options closer to home.I was considering adding a little spa area to the recreation center.Mani-pedis, facials, nothing too crazy.“I mean it, Mom.Next time, I expect a barn.I’m thinking ten thousand square feet, at least.”
“Sure, baby girl.Whatever you want.”She was still inspecting my feet.“Let’s do the closed-toed heels.Grier, have you even been moisturizing your feet?Your body is a temple.Cherish every beautiful part of it.That callus looks painful.”
“Meh, it’s fine,” I dismissed.