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“I think I can handle that.”
“And that, is why you’re perfect for me.”
The car pulls into the long clubhouse driveway and I get to see Miles’ armor snap back into place. He’s no longer Miles. He’s my Mad Dog. As the car rocks to a stop he opens the door, offering me his hand. I give him a soft smile, choosing not to take his hand. I climb out, rest my palm against his cheek and press a kiss under his chin.
“You go ahead. I’m gonna slip into something a little more interrogation-y.”
He grins at me, patting my ass as I sashay past him. “Don’t be too long.”
“You have Christopher Mercer trussed up in the back of Marx’s car. There’s no way I’m missing him pissing himself in fear.”
Mad Dog grins at me while I grin back.
“And another one bites the dust,” Pops says, a little too close for comfort.
“Where the hell did you come from?” I screech.
“Nowhere and everywhere.” he replies before winking at me. “You two can thank me later.”
Mad Dog steps up to me, grasping my hand, twining his fingers with mine as we watch Pops swagger into the clubhouse. “We’re never gonna hear the end of the Love Prez.”
“Yup.”
“Is it bad I don’t give a shit?”
“Nope.” I squeeze Mad Dog’s hand and tip my head toward the clubhouse. “Come on, we have rich people to question and Diesel’s operation to shut down. I mean, I’ve done it once before, may as well do it again.”
He beams down at me, squeezing my hand back. “I fucking knew you were the one for me.”
Chapter 16
Mad Dog
Fuck me. When Willa said she was going to slip into something a little more interrogation-y I thought some nice comfy old clothes. Maybe jeans and an oversized sweater. Not fucking spray on ninja clothes. The woman is decked out in head to toe black yoga gear and it’s showing off every curve. How the hell I’m meant to get through this shit with a dick hard enough to pound nails is beyond me.
Willa presses her lush body up against mine, her arm around my waist and I’d be a fool not to wrap my arm over her shoulder and pull her near. Now that I have her there’s no way I’m going to let her go. Within reason of course. If I was glued to her all day she’d kick my ass.
“So, that’s Rider’s brother, huh?”
“Yup,” I reply, pressing a kiss to Willa’s crown.
Rider stares at his older brother from across the room, giving nothing away in his gaze. As the youngest of three boys to parents who were more interested in the bottle than their kids, Rider spent a lot of time at the clubhouse with Rhodie. When he was at home his middle brother Walker would push him around. Deacon was better with him, but he got out of Dodge as soon as he could and never looked back. Needless to say there’s no love lost between the brothers.
“Is he awake yet?” Marx says, stomping into the Rev Room, coming to a stop when his eyes land on Chewy in a swivel chair. “You-” he jabs a finger in her direction, “are on maternity leave.”
“I’m multitasking,” she replies, ignoring Marx.
I turn to look at Rhodie, brow raised and he just shrugs, throws his arm over his Ol Lady and smacks a kiss on her cheek.
“Miles is fast asleep, Mama Debs is keeping an eye on him and will call when he wakes.” Rhodie waves his phone in the air. “So we need to get this show on the road.”
Marx stares at his VP before dipping his chin. “Loud and clear, brother.” He waves to Pops who twists the knob on the firehose he somehow acquired and cold water blasts the hell out of Mercer, not only waking him up, but damn near water boarding the poor son of a bitch.
“There he is,” Chewy coos.
“Remember babe, you’re calling the shots but we’re doing the dirty work.” Rhodie reminds her. He’s met with an eyeroll but she surprisingly doesn't back answer.
“Before we do anything, can we please find out why the hell Deacon is here?” Rider growls.
