I didn’t say any of that though. This thing between us was destined to be short-lived enough already. For now, I would bask in it a little while longer before it came to an end.
“I have to go,” I whispered. “I’m ten minutes late as it is.”
Trooper sighed and released me. But before I reached the door, he spoke.
“Let me drive you to work. Then I can pick you up and take you to dinner afterward.”
I stopped and half turned toward him.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
He shrugged.
“Technically, you could say we had a date last night. But we don’t have time to argue pesky little details like that.”
“Just because we don’t have time to argue, doesn’t mean you won the non-existent argument,” I pointed out.
Trooper chuckled and came over, threading our fingers together, kissing the back of my hand with a gleam in his eyes. My stomach somersaulted. Fuck, I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t fall in love with him. It would only break my heart when he inevitably moved on.
“I guess we’ll have to pick up this discussion later tonight over dinner,” he said. “And maybe, if I’m a very, very lucky man, we can play around with those toys you mentioned.”
I huffed with amusement and shook my head, letting Trooper lead me out to his motorcycle. After strapping on our helmets, I settled behind him on the bike and huddled against his back, wrapping my arms around his middle.
“Is this why you wanted to drive me?” I asked, practically shouting to be heard over the roar of his engine. “You were looking for an excuse to be the little spoon?”
He grinned and hit the gas, speeding out of my driveway. I yelped and clutched onto him tighter, burying my face in theback of his neck with the wind stinging my cheeks and the road flying by beneath us.
Chapter eight
Trooper
When I dropped off Shea at work, I waited until she was safely inside and indicated the coast was clear. Then I directed a quick salute of appreciation in Viper’s direction, tucked in a back corner of the parking lot. He nodded, returning my acknowledgment.
Maintaining this level of protection for an extended period of time was a lot to ask of my club, and I was well aware of that. They wouldn’t raise a fuss or complain though. Because that’s what you do for your brothers. We’re family and we protect our own.
Until that damn butterfly showed up on Shea’s windshield. Maybe it was a fluke, I reasoned. In early June, bugs would get stuck on her windshield all the time. That was nothing unusual.
But I couldn’t quiet the nagging voice of doubt in the back of my mind.
We needed to do more. For Shea’s sake. And that’s why I called in a favor.
Iron Forge Security Agency was founded by one of our members, Gil “Nitro” Mullins, as a part-time gig on the side. For a while, he didn’t even have an office, operating out of his private home instead. He started it for women who needed protection and couldn’t find it anywhere else.
The agency expanded into an old warehouse on the outskirts of town. Nitro got married and started having kids, so he had his hands full and hired a few employees to run the place for him.
A few of my ex-military buddies were on the payroll now. Ethan "Charger" Caldwell agreed to meet me within the hour after I explained the situation with Shea.
When I pulled into the gravel lot and parked outside the rusted warehouse, Ethan stepped out to greet me. One of his rescue dogs shadowed at his heels—a senior malinois with a gray muzzle and a limp in his right foreleg.
“It’s good to see you, soldier,” Ethan said.
His dog circled around me, sniffing my boots. I reached down to scratch his ear but he shied away.
“Here.” Ethan dug in his pocket and tossed a small dog treat to me. “Ares doesn’t like most people. He’s deaf in one ear, too, and it tends to make him extra skittish. But he loves some duck liver.”
Crouching down, I held out my palm and offered the treat. Ares eyed me warily, then slowly approached and lapped at my palm. He nuzzled against me for more, pushing into my chest with insistence. I laughed and rubbed his ears.
“Is he a new addition to the family?” I asked.
