Page 14 of The Prez’s Daughter

He was growing more intolerant of the women that seemed to think it was okay to cross that line and touch him. It was starting to piss him off. He made sure she was away from him, then let her go as he turned on his heel and left the club.

Deep down, he knew he should be happy that Charlotte was able to relax at home, but he actually fucking missed her. Even on the days they sat in each other’s company, putting on makeup and just doing their regular shit. He loved sharing pizza with her and watching her laugh and smile.

Savage stopped outside the door of the clubhouse. The temptation to go back inside, shove Kitty over his shoulder, and finally fuck her to rid himself of this interest of Charlotte, was fucking strong. It would be easy to do, and he would forget all about Charlotte. She was Doc’s daughter.

He was never disloyal. This was not the kind of man he fucking was. It pissed him off.

Running a hand down his face, he didn’t go back inside and instead kept moving until he got to his bike. He straddled his machine, revved the engine, and before he could stop himself, he was heading toward Charlotte’s home.

There were moments he yelled inside his own head to fucking run. But he didn’t take them. Not a damn second. He just kept driving, getting closer and closer to her home, until he finally parked on the main drive.

Turning off his ignition, he climbed off, and just as he got to the door, it opened and Charlotte was there. This time, in tiny kittens, and it wasn’t lost on him. He didn’t consider it a sign that he needed to get back to the clubhouse and fuck Kitty.

“Savage, what are you doing here?” Charlotte asked.

“I came to see you.”

“Oh, is that because of what you heard?”

This made him freeze. “Heard?”

Charlotte winced. “I didn’t know if my dad had sent you, or ... I don’t know.” She let out a light laugh, but it sounded like it was verging on hysterics.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

She blew out a breath, and then stepped away from the door. “You might as well come in. I mean, you’re going to find out eventually.” Again, she let out a breath and shrugged. “Fine, fine, Friday night, I am going on a date.”

“A date?” he asked.

“Yes, my very first official date, and Mom is excited about it. Me, I’m terrified.”

“A date?” he asked again, and at the same time, he felt like someone had punched him right in the gut.

“Yeah, a date.”

“Who is the lucky guy?” Savage asked. So, I can go hurt him for even looking at you.

“It’s Andy Bernadette. Mrs. Bernadette’s grandson or son, I wasn’t quite sure which it was.”

“Isn’t he old?” Savage asked.

“He’s twenty-five years old,” she said. “So, no, not old.” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t even know how this all came about. I was with Maeve, and we were working on Bernadette, and she was showing me how best to work with mature skin, and then Andy comes in, bringing drinks, and before I know what is happening, he’s asking me out on a date. To dinner, Friday. I have never been on a date.” She laughed. “I haven’t had a boyfriend, or made out, or done any of those things I’m supposed to have done. What I’ve done is run.” She rubbed at her temple. “Sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. It’s a big deal.”

“Mom and Maeve had already told me how I’m going to dress, and I’m a little overwhelmed. I don’t know what to do,” Charlotte said.

Savage knew he should walk away, wish her a good time, and just let it be. It was good that she was going on a date. It got him off the hook. Charlotte wasn’t interested in a guy like him. He didn’t have to break his moral code to Doc. This was all good.

At least, that was what he kept trying to convince himself, but as he looked at Charlotte, she seemed terrified.

“Do you want me to follow you? Come to the restaurant, that kind of thing?” he asked. “Keep an eye on you? Perhaps give you a few pointers?”

“Would you?” Charlotte asked. “I know this is a lot to ask, but I don’t know what I’m doing, and you know me better than anyone.”

“Why don’t you show me what they have picked out for you. I know your mom, I’m sure she already has everything ready and prepared.”

Charlotte nodded, and within minutes, Savage hated himself, because he was in her bedroom. It wasn’t girly. There were no pink frills or anything that gave way to a young girl living here. She had cream walls, brown furniture, and there were a few splashes of pink, but nothing that would make him believe there was a child here. She didn’t even have a single picture in the bedroom. No family photos. Her space looked kind of blank. More like she was a visitor in her bedroom.