The young tech and Ghost had an interesting history. Ghost had met Keys when Keys was only seventeen. The brilliant teenager had been emancipated and working for Navy Intelligence as a programmer and defense analyst. Rumor had it that he even built a facial recognition program that rivaled the NSAs, and he’d been brought to the Navy’s attention when he’d hacked the Pentagon at fifteen. He’d gotten away with it, but unfortunately, not all his college friends were geniuses too. One posted on social media what Keys had done, and Keys was arrested within a day.
Rather than tossing him in jail and throwing away the key, though, the Navy recruited him. A strategic move for them certainly—until one fateful day when they couldn’t control him anymore.
A sleepy voice answered. “Hello?”
Ghost frowned. “Keys, why are you asleep?”
“Because it’s,” there was some rustling, “two o’clock in the morning.” Ghost heard something else that made him think Keys was reaching for his glasses. “Why, what’s up? How’s the wedding?”
A muscle in Ghost’s jaw ticked. He wasnotdiscussing the wedding. “Fine,” he snapped. “What’s happening at home? Is everything okay? Do you need me to come back?”
Keys snorted. “Not sure if I should be amused that the lovey-dovey atmosphere is too much for you to handle or offended that you think we can’t run the club for four whole days while you’re taking a break.”
Ghost glared at nothing in particular. “Watch it, kid. You might be all grown up now, but I can still kick your ass.”
Keys had been the youngest member the club had ever taken on. He’d been nineteen, lost and alone in the world, and fresh out of the Navy he’d basically blackmailed to leave. If Ghost hadn’t tracked him down and brought him to Mount Grove, Ghost had no idea where the kid would be. ‘Kid’ though was now a loose term for the twenty-five year old, but old habits die hard, and most of the club still thought of him as their teenage little brother. Even though Keys owned his own security business and had been making strides to be more ‘grown up’ in the club’s eyes, it was hard for some of the older club members to not remember him as the scrawny, wide-eyed, scared kid Ghost had brought to the clubhouse. Hell, Ghost had even taught him how to drive not only a motorcycle, but also a cage. Keys didn’t know a lot of basic things that a father should have taught his son. Ghost wasn’t the only one who took it upon himself to watch over Keys.
“Hey, I’m just saying. You’re the one calling me in the middle of the night to see if there’s an excuse for you to come back.”
Ghost stifled a groan, feeling a headache coming on. “Go back to bed, you little shit.” Then for some unknown reason, added, “But call me if you need me to come back.” Jesus, hesounded like a little girl with her first boyfriend, just hoping for some attention.
“Sure thing, boss. Hey, real quick, did Ranger’s sister really get you in the balls? I’ve looked her up and I’ve seen the heels she wears. I mean, after that, I can understand why you want to run away?—”
Ghost hung up the phone. Yeah, it was official. If he didn’t go to jail this weekend for kidnapping, he would for murdering his best friend.
CHAPTER 5
As Libby and Becks made their way down the stairs the next morning, Becks only had one thing on her mind: coffee. If she could set up an IV to get it in her system faster, she would. This was the day before her wedding! She should feel excited, not like she got hit by a truck.
The scent of bacon permeated the air, luring her further into the kitchen. As expected, her mom was standing on a stepstool at the stovetop in her white apron and holding a spatula. The only thing Becks was grateful to her sperm donor for was allowing her to reach a little over five feet, but would it have killed the universe to allow her to keep going just a bit more? Damn. But that’s what God invented heels for, she supposed.
Not knowing what the plan was for today since her mom had been secretive about it, Becks had dressed in a pair of red, four-inch pumps, jeans, and a loose blouse. Libby was wearing her running outfit, since she still planned on getting at least a short run in that morning after breakfast. How Libby ate so fucking much and then went running without throwing up, Becks would never know. Sometimes she got nauseous on behalf of her bestie just thinking about it.
“Morning, Ma,” Becks said, coming up behind her to give her a kiss on her cheek.
“Morning, baby.” Using the spatula, she pointed to the counter. “Coffee’s all set. I made your favorite vanilla caramel brew today.”
A sound of disgust came into the kitchen as Liam stepped inside. “Ew, Ma. Really? That shit is nasty.”
Becks stuck her tongue out at her brother as their mom came to her defense. Without turning her attention from the stovetop, she informed her son, “This is the start of her wedding weekend. Anything she wants goes.” Then she said with a wicked smile that only Becks could see, “Ifyouwould settle down and get married, then you too could have the coffee of your choice on your wedding weekend.”
Liam clamped his mouth closed so fast, Becks thought he might have cracked a tooth. Yeah, there definitely wasn’t a wedding in Liam’s future any time soon.
Loretta turned to greet her son good morning, still smiling, but paused and frowned when she saw Liam’s face. “Baby, what did you do to your nose? Were you and Taran roughhousing in the middle of the night?”
Becks’ own eyes narrowed as she took in what her mom had immediately seen. On the bridge of his nose was a red mark and the inside curves of both eyelids looked bluer than usual. Becks wouldn’t define it as a ‘black eye’, but the coloring was definitely off. Thankfully Becks’ mark was easily covered with a twirl of her hair. Becks knew how she had gotten injured last night, but hadn’t been aware Liam had gotten hurt too.
Liam snorted and coughed into the glass of orange juice he’d just poured. “Ma! I’m thirty-four! I don’t ‘roughhouse’ with my friends anymore.”
Loretta just tsked her tongue. “You hang out in the same friend group and ride bikes around all day. Doesn’t sound that much different than your childhood, young man.”
Libby and Becks both tried to hide their amusement in their coffee cups. It did not pass Becks’ notice that Liam had entered the room alone. She bit her lip, trying to keep the burning question inside. After Ghost had gone down the stairs last night, Liam had turned to her, likely to ask what the hell had just happened, but Becks quickly slammed her bedroom door closed before he could.
She tried to keep her eyes from straying to the doorframe. Where was Ghost? Had he left? And why—Godwhy—could she still not answer his question when he’d asked her if she wanted him to leave? As if summoned by her thoughts, a figure filled the kitchen doorway.
Freshly showered and actually wearing a shirt, Ghost was pure yum. His eye had a small bruise to the side from where she’d accidentally hit him yesterday morning. With perfect posture, those muscles displayed by that tight black shirt, and the way his thighs filled out those jeans… Becks bit her lip behind her coffee cup. Yeah, she was definitely going to hell.
Ghost’s eyes met hers immediately upon entering the room. Not like he was looking for her, but like she was the only person in the room and his sole purpose for being here. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. While he didn’t appear happy, per se, to see her, there was an intensity behind his gaze that had her knees going weak and her lady parts salivating for attention. There was no doubt that this man would make incredible babies.
