I let myself into the house just after 8:00 p.m., silently cursing the fact that I had to work this late, had to be that guy. It was past Carly’s bed time, and this wouldn’t be the first time I’d missed it, had to sneak upstairs afterward and plant a kiss on her forehead and whisper “goodnight.”

Guilt traveled through me, strong, renewed even though Carly had probably had a great day with her new nanny.

And that brought me full circle to last night. To how much I wanted Riley around, and how dangerous it was for me, personally, and for her.

I clenched my fist over my briefcase handle then keyed in the alarm code to deactivate it. Immediately, I activated it again. I’d do anything to keep them both safe. Both? Are you kidding?

“Hi.” Riley’s voice traveled down from the second floor.

I turned toward her and gritted my teeth. Why did she have to be this stunning? It wasn’t fair on a guy, damn.

She wore a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top, totally modest and appropriate, but I’d witnessed what was underneath for myself, and it was no stretch of imagination to picture it again. Picture ripping off her clothes.

“We should talk about last night,” I said, and dropped my briefcase next to the entrance hall table. “Kitchen.”

“Sure,” she replied and swept down the stairs. She moved like a butterfly, floaty, light on her feet, but I didn’t doubt she’d have a sting.

I led the way into the kitchen, walked over to the fridge, and brought out a bottle of water. “One for you?”

“I’m good, thanks.” She lifted her hands and swept them down the front of her jeans. “Before we talk about anything, there’s something you should know.”

“All right,” I said, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and glugging back some of the water. I set it down on the kitchen island and studied her across it. Even now, we kept our distance. Good thing too—in case our conversation wound up cut short by my dick inside her. That wasn’t crass at all. “What’s up?”

“I—Shit, this is difficult to talk about,” she said, and swallowed drily. “I had something really scary happen to me today, and I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with my past.”

I lifted my head, frowning. This was unexpected. “What happened?”

She took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks, and blew out a thin stream of air. “Well, you know I took Carly to that event this morning?”

“Yeah.”

“On the way back, we were followed. A guy on a motorcycle.”

“What?” A bucket of ice splashed over my skin, and I stared at her, closing my hand around the water bottle. “What exactly did you see?”

“We were just around the corner from the gate when a motorcycle came up behind us. I played a game with Carly, got her on my back and hoofed it for the gate. The guy rode past once we got inside, but yeah, I’m one hundred percent sure he was following us. I just wanted you to know. I think it’s probably best if I—”

“Is there anything else?” I asked. “What else? The guy on the motorcycle, what did it look like?”

She blinked at the interruption, her eyelashes fluttering. “Um, pretty standard, leather jacket, helmet, jeans, and uh, he had an insignia—a red skull.”

Fuck. Fuck. They’ve seen her. They’ve seen Carly. It had to be Johnny or Marcus, making good on those threats. It fucking had to be. My blood boiled in my veins, and I squeezed down on the water bottle so hard the side split. Water gushed over my hand.

“Shoot.” Riley grabbed a roll of kitchen towels and rushed over. “I knew it. Look, this is my fault, I should—”

I could barely concentrate on what she’d said. I stood with my hand drenched in water, the front of my suit too, and stared dead ahead. So they wanted to make good on their threats, huh? That was fine. They could threaten all they wanted, but I’d fucking destroy them for coming near Carly. And Riley.

What was worse, this meant that they knew Riley was part of it, now, too.

“I should probably leave,” she said. “I feel like all of this is my fault, like I brought this down on you and Carly, so I should go.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “How could this possibly be your fault?”

She licked her lips, now dabbing the front of my suit. “I’m pretty sure this has something to do with my ex.”

“Your ex rides motorcycles?”

Her jaw clenched tight, and she bent to the floor, layering kitchen towels over the spill, ignoring my question. Intrigue unfolded in my mind, and I probed the thought. Did she know the riders? Or one of them?

Christ, that would be interesting. I bent too, stopped her from fiddling with the sopping paper towels, then grabbed her by the elbow and lifted her. “Riley, talk to me. What do you mean it’s your fault?”

“My ex was a bad guy. He had a lot of nasty contacts. If I’m being followed, it’s probably because of him,” she said, lifting her chin. “So, I think it’s better if I just leave.”

She really thought this was her fault. She had no idea who I’d been or what’d transpired. Christ, it was so typical of her—of what I knew of her so far in person and on the app—that she’d blame herself and try to take responsibility. “No,” I said, sternly.

“No?”

“No. You can’t leave,” I replied.

A tiny smile danced around the corners of her lips. “You going to lock me in?” she asked. “Because I do know the alarm code. I can just slip out.”

“I’m not kidding around, Riley. I want you to stay here.”

“Why?” It was her turn to frown, and she set aside the roll of paper towels and folded her arms under those ample breasts. “Why, Bryan? You’ve been acting strangely about security, you’ve been—look, if there’s something I should know, you need to tell me.”

“There’s nothing you need to know.” Not yet. Fuck it, I’d deal with this problem before it got any more serious. A drive-by from one of the riders was a warning, not an open act of aggression, but it was still cause for concern. For me to take counter-action.

She couldn’t get involved, no matter what contacts she thought her ex had. Christ, even if he was one of the riders, it wouldn’t make a damn difference. I opened my mouth to follow up with a question about him, but a soft cry from upstairs cut me off.

Riley took off toward the kitchen door, skidding slightly on the damp patch of tiles. She caught herself on the jamb, then launched herself out of the room. I followed, just as fast.

“Carly?” I called out.

Another little whimper.

Riley reached the landing at the same time I did, my legs carrying me faster. We got to Carly’s door and bumped shoulders. Riley immediately stepped back, and I charged in first.

My little girl lay on her back in bed, her eyelids cracked. She looked up at me, and her lips turned down at the corners. “You were gone,” she said, and tears streamed down her pale, puffy little cheeks. “You were gone, daddy. You were gone.”

“OK, baby.” I sat down and lifted her into a hug. “It’s OK, I’m here. Did you have a bad dream?”

She nodded yes against my chest, her head hot, her hair damp with sweat. “You left me, and you were gone, and Riley was hurt. And there were bad men who wore ugly masks. Daddy.”

“It was just a dream,” I said. “Just a dream, sweetheart.” I stroked the top of her head and caught movement from Riley in the doorway. She’d shuffled further back and was even paler than usual, shaking her head.

I rocked my daughter, back and forth, cooing to her softly until the sobbing hiccups had dissipated. I let her down onto the pillows, softly, tucked her in, and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. “There, there.”

She was already fast asleep again and shifted, throwing one hand above her head, her dark curls strewn across the pillow. My pulse slowed, at last.

I rose from the bed and walked out of the room and down the hall. Riley stood waiting for me on the landing, her hands curled around the railing so tight she looked ready to throttle it.

“It’s because of today,” she whispered, as I reached her. “She’s scared because of what happened. I thought I made a game out of it, that she didn’t realize what was going on, but clearly, it’s because of—”

“Riley, stop it. You can’t blame yourself for this shit. You weren’t the guy on the motorcycle.” If anything, this was my fault. If I’d been a fucking stand-up guy from the start, and not a jackass who’d thought being part of a club was badass, this wouldn’t be happening.

But then, I’d never have met Janine, never have had Carly, never have consequently needed a nanny or made the #dateme app.

“Come on,” I said and took her hand. I led her downstairs and into the living room this time, sat her down on the sofa. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“I can and I will. You don’t understand why, though, I—this is really difficult for me to discuss, Bryan, but after today, I don’t see that I have a choice to. I’m really worried that I might be a problem. Once I’ve told you, you’ll understand.”

I brushed the soft brown hair back from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Even now, with anger shifting through my gut at these dickwads who dared challenge me, who dared threaten my family, I couldn’t escape her beauty. She was a calm in the storm.

“Fuck it, Riley, if it will make you feel better, we’ll talk about everything. We’ll get it out on the table, but the fact remains that you’re staying. Carly loves you, I need you here, and you’re not the danger to my family you think you are.”

“Bryan, I’m telling you—”

“Just, breathe.” I leaned in and kissed her, gently, a light brush of my lips. She stiffened. Christ, we still had to deal with what’d happened between us. Never mind the Crimson Riders and the danger inherent. “You eaten?” I asked.

“No. I fed Carly, but I couldn’t stomach anything.”

“Let’s get a pizza. We’ll eat, and we’ll talk this through. All of it,” I said.

Big step for me. I wasn’t one of those men who talked about ‘feelings’ or my past. Never my fucking past. Plain and simple, it angered me—I was ashamed of it, what I’d done, and who I’d been.

“A pizza,” she said.

“Why not? We’ll save a few slices for Carly as a late-morning snack. I’m sure she’ll enjoy that.”

“But you have work tomorrow,” Riley replied.

“This is more important.” I pushed off from the sofa and fetched my briefcase from the entrance hall, opened it and brought out my cell. No missed calls, no texts, not messages on the app from her. A thought occurred to me, but I brushed it aside, dialed the number for the pizza place and put in my order.

All the while, Riley sat on the sofa, looking up at me, her expression pained, as if she still had more to say, but couldn’t say it yet.