And I take it.
The second our hands connect, my breath hitches, those damn fireworks igniting inside my chest like they always do whenever we touch. He pulls me to my feet with an ease that makes the whole thing feel effortless, and for a moment after I’m standing, the geometry of the room arranges itself so that we are very close together in the dark, his hand still closed around mine, bringing him level with me in the low light.
I am aware of the warmth of his palm against my fingers.
I am also aware that I haven’t let go yet.
I also become aware that he notices.
And yet, he doesn’t pull away.
He doesn’t shift his weight or make a small, polite adjustment of any kind. Instead, he stays where he is, holding my hand, looking at me in the silence of my father’s office for one beat longer than the situation strictly requires.
Outside, engines rumble low in the yard, boots crunch on gravel, and voices carry faintly through the open night air. Reality pulls back into place.
Regretfully, I release his hand and straighten the folder under my arm.
“Come on,” Will says softly.
We step out into the cold Nevada air. The yard is alive with movement. Bikes idle under the floodlights, their engines rumbling deep and steady. The brothers spread across the property in a relaxed sweeping pattern, some checking the fence line, others scanning the dark edges of the mine yard.
Sin stands near the gate, talking quietly with Ghost beside one of the bikes. The moment Sin sees me, the conversation stops, and he walks straight toward us. His eyes sweep over meonce, quick and assessing, taking inventory the way men like him always do. “You all right, Millie?” he asks. The question is simple, but the weight behind it isn’t.
I nod. “Yeah.”
His gaze doesn’t leave my face. “They get anywhere near you?”
“No. I saw them from the office window. Called you right away.”
He studies me for another second, clearly deciding whether he believes that answer is the whole truth. “They touch anything?” he asks.
“Not that I saw. They were photographing the fence line, the maintenance shed. Mapping things out, I think.”
Ghost grunts softly beside him, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “Dashcam caught the plates,” he says.
Sin nods once. “Good.” His attention shifts back to me. “You sure they didn’t get close?”
“I’m sure.”
Only then does something in his posture ease. “All right,” he says. “We’ll sweep the property and make sure nothing else got compromised.”
Will steps forward beside me. “I’ll take her back home.” It comes out more as a statement than an offer.
Sin glances between us, the look in his eyes briefly unreadable, then he nods. “Yeah, good. Deek can bring her car back.”
From somewhere behind us, Deek calls out, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be the hero.”
Will gestures toward the truck parked near the office. “Let’s get you outta here.”
I nod and fall into step beside him while we cross the gravel yard. The floodlights cast long shadows across the ground, bikesstill idling nearby while a few of the brothers move along the fence line, beginning their sweep of the property.
The cold night air bites at my lungs while we walk, the adrenaline still humming faintly through my system. Will reaches the truck first and pulls open the passenger door, stepping back so I can climb in. The metal step creaks under my boot as I haul myself into the seat, and the familiar smell of dust and leather wraps around me the moment the door shuts.
A second later, Will rounds the hood and slides into the driver’s seat.
The engine rumbles to life, deep and steady, and we pull away from the office while the club falls into motion around us.
The ride home is smooth and unhurried, the bikes spreading themselves around the truck in the easy formation of an escort that knows the roads. I sit in the passenger seat of Will’s truck and watch the mine property get smaller in the side mirror.
