The flush on River’s cheeks darkened and his eyes narrowed to slits. “It’s fine. Come with me.” He turned on his heel, again not asking, just walking, and I knew I had no choice but to go with him. Sending the receptionist another apologetic glance, I moved to follow River out the doors of Walnut Creek’s entrance in the direction of the car park. We traveled up another elevator in silence. I couldn’t stop thinking about those messages, though. Is that really what River liked? Men spanking him?
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, but he stared straight ahead with a focus that told me he didn’t want to talk. When the doors chimed and opened, he stalked forward, and I had no choice but to let him lead me to his small black sports car. I glanced at the front, whistling at the Maserati logo. I’d seen it earlier tonight, but now that I wasn’t focused on the Kings’ clubhouse, I could appreciate the Italian beauty in front of me.
“Nice car.”
River stopped beside the driver’s door, his gaze sliding to me. “Thank you. A gift to myself for hard work.”
“Being a lawyer definitely wouldn’t be easy,” I said. My voice sounded strained, and I headed to the passenger’s door, opening it and sliding into the car. River did the same on his side, sighing as he got in.
“There’s a reason cops hate me. I’m good at my job.” He slid his fingers around the steering wheel, clutching it a little tighter than what was needed.
“Have… you defended Hayden before?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question. Slipping my belt into the clip, I kept my gaze on him.
“No.” River pursed his lips and started the ignition. The Maserati roared to life, and River reversed, heading out of the multifloor car park and then onto the road. He asked which direction to turn at the end of the street, and I told him. I didn’t think he was going to say anything else, but as he braked at the first red light, he sighed. “Bishop has been to prison, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”
“He has?”Fuck.My heart thumped against my ribs and I fell back into the seat. I’d hoped that hadn’t been the case. Part of me had thought he could turn his life around, become a cop like me, but it’d been a foolish wish. I hadn’t seen Hayden since I was eighteen. I had no right to dictate what he did with his life.
“Yes. He punched a cop one night while he was out drinking. Did a short stint. He was released this year. Where exactly is your house?”
I gave him the address, staring out into the sparkling lights of New Gothenburg. We drove around the outskirts of the city, avoiding any clubbing crowds who were too drunk to stand straight.
“How did you not know Hayden was here?”
I glanced back at him, taking in the lines of his handsome face. He had a clean-shaven jaw, high cheekbones, and the nicest eyebrows I’d seen. I supposed he plucked them into shape because they were almost too perfect. He had those pouty lips, too, the same kind as Alex…. Something pinged inside me, only small, but it was something. I couldn’t decide if it was grief, or guilt for thinking another man was handsome.
“There’s not much to tell. Hayden and I grew up in England. Our mother was English, father American. We got into trouble as teens, so our mom sent us over the water to Miami to our dad. He didn’t give a shit about his kids, never did. I got sick of the Miami life, so I took off as soon as I hit eighteen to join the marines.”
“And left Bishop behind,” he finished, looking at me with a furrowed brow.
“Yeah, s’ppose so.” I shrugged. “I was eighteen. Dumb and stupid.”
“Weren’t we all at that age?” River shook his head. “So why didn’t you go into the clubhouse to see him?”
“Because I don’t deserve to.” I couldn’t believe I was telling a stranger this. He might be my lawyer, but I didn’t know him. I’d heard rumors around the bullpen about Madden and River—the pains in the asses to all the cops there. They hated them for getting criminals off on charges. I never cared about them. As far as I was concerned, if we did our jobs and got hard evidence we didn’t need to worry about lawyers. We needed to up our game. Since moving to New Gothenburg, I’d learned the motorcycle clubs around these parts were smart. They knew our weaknesses and exploited them, and a lot of cops let them. Walked right into their traps like good little mice.
Before finding out about Hayden, I was happy to try and catch one of them in a criminal act, but now I wasn’t so sure. What if I caught Hayden one day? I shook my head.
River shrugged and didn’t say anything else, so I assumed he didn’t want to hear it. I kept my mouth closed and stared out the window again. Lights danced by as we closed in on my quiet neighborhood, the kind I’d expected to start a family in with Alex. We’d talked about kids, maybe one or two, with a dog. Guess that wasn’t meant to be.
“Are you… into that sort of stuff?” I finally asked, shattering the incredibly awkward silence.
River jumped in his seat and turned wide, alarmed eyes to me, not the kind of stare I expected from a cool, laidback lawyer who seemed to have everything sorted in his life. “Stuff?”
“Yeah. When the guy was messaging, I saw some of what he’d said. Hairbrush. Spanking. BDSM.”
River swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbing. “I dabble.”
The lie was evident in the way he turned back to the road, eyes still wide. For the first time in a few weeks I found myself smiling. “Dabble? Sounds like more than dabbling.”
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to not look at other people’s phones?” he snapped, face flushing that gorgeous deep pink again, bright enough that even in the dash lights I could tell he was embarrassed.
The laugh that left my mouth surprised me, and apparently him, too, because he flicked me a mouth-parted glance. “Not really. We didn’t have cell phones back in those days for her to teach me that. We especially didn’t have apps to find kinky hookups, either.”
He grunted, and even though he was concentrating on the road, his eyes narrowed. “Well, mind your own business anyway.”
“I’m not judging you,” I whispered when he turned down my street. “I’ve never tried it, but I’ve had friends in the lifestyle.”
“Good for you.” His words were blunt, snippy, and his tone made me smile again. I directed him to my driveway, and he pulled the car up in front of my garage.
