Chapter 36

Lawson

“You sound frustrated.”

I huff into my phone, ready to knock the head off of the Uber driver if he so much as looks over his shoulder while I’m in the back seat of his car thinking of ways to kill my dad.

“Explain it to me one more time,” I hiss into the phone.

“Blade sent a few guys to Purgatory Chasm. Ravens Ruin has found a shop in Worcester that will do their bidding.”

“And Cerberus is just going to let that happen?”

“Calm down, Rambo.” His chuckle is like nails on a chalkboard right now. “They’re under surveillance, and you don’t need to worry about it. You didn’t want the club.”

“And you won’t talk about it. I wasn’t spending four years in the Corps to join.” We’ve been through this a hundred times. The time in the service is a requirement for official acceptance in Cerberus MC, one I wasn’t willing to commit to.

“I can’t talk about it,” he clarifies. “Why the attitude?”

I take deep breaths before I continue. “You said you found out two days ago.”

“Correct.” His voice lowers, calming and sedate. “Why are you upset?”

“Are you sure she’s safe?”

“She was never in danger, Law. We were just keeping it that way.”

“I spent a week away from her.” I scrub my hand over my face doing my best to keep from telling the driver to take me back to her.

“I haven’t seen her since May,” Jaxon informs me. “So I know what it’s like to miss her.”

“Exactly,” I agree too soon.

“You didn’t miss her last night.” There’s mirth in his voice, but only having known him for two years, I still worry about when the conversation will change from support and morph into disgust.

“I swear nothing happened.”

He laughs. The chuckles from farther away tell me I’m on speaker phone and Rob is nearby.

“You’re both grown,” he clarifies.

“I don’t feel very grown with you tracking our phones,” I murmur.

“When you have children, you’ll understand.”

I nod even though he can’t see me. The thought of having kids doesn’t scare me one damn bit because I know Delilah will be an incredible mother.

“In years,” Dad says in a long breath. “When you have children years down the road. Years, right Law?”

I laugh.

“Law.” Rob’s voice this time. “His head’s about to explode.”

“Years,” I concede as a smile spreads on my face. “We’ll still be having children years from now.”

I hear him yelling when I hang up on them. That’s what he gets for not telling me forty–eight hours ago that Ravens Ruin MC wasn’t a threat to her. I may have spent time with her yesterday, but we could’ve already had another day of connection under our belts. I need every second to build what Delilah is trying to reject.

***

“Put your shirt on.”

I smile as the voice of my angel echoes through the shop. I was hoping she would stop by today, but as time dragged on, I let doubt creep in.

I turn in her direction, using the shop towel to swipe at the sweat running down my abs.

“You seem to be enjoying the view.”

Her lips smack together as if she’s getting ready to say something, but no sound comes out. Her eyes don’t pull from my stomach either. If it’s a weapon in my arsenal, I’ll use it. Leaning back against the truck I was just bent over, I kick my legs out, crossed at the ankles. The position allows me to contract my stomach for optimal viewing.

“You look…”

“You’re pretty fucking spectacular yourself.” She’s wearing the same lacy shorts she had on the day her car broke down, but her top is different. This one slides off of her shoulder, revealing a thin strap and hinting at the lace covering her perfect breasts.

Her eyes snap to mine. “Grungy and dirty. That’s what I was going to say.”

I hold my tongue as I watch her fight the urge to take another look.

“Where’s my car?”

“Round back. Waiting for a tow to the junkyard.”

I expect a fight, an argument at a minimum, so when her breath shudders, it catches me by surprise.

“Was it really that bad?”

“Sorry, Princess.”

“I’ve had that car since I learned to drive.”

I never thought I’d see her so emotional over a damn car, especially since I know she knows how much I care about her and she’s all too eager to push me away.

“You’ve only been driving what three? Four years tops? You’ll get another one.”

“Is it that easy for you to just replace things that were once important to you when you get tired of them? When they’re no longer pristine and perfect?”

I recoil at her words. “It’s just an old car, Delilah.”

She turns her back to me and mutters. I stop cold.

“What did you just say?”

She shakes her head and walks out of the front of the garage.

“What did you say?” I repeat.

She spins, wiping at fresh tears on her cheeks. “I said I loved that car.”

I shake my head. “It sounded a lot like ‘I fell in love in that car.’”

She shrugs, and I clench my fists so tight my knuckles pop. “His name was Danny. We spent a couple weeks together in the summer.”

I growl at her but keep my distance. It’s the only thing keeping me from shaking some damn sense into her.

A mischievous glint hits her blue eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching. I can already tell, true to Delilah form that she’s going to mask her emotions with some damn joke as a distraction. “We laughed and sang together. Frolicked in the surf of the ocean.”

I tilt my head, confused as fuck. “What?”

She nods towards the shop. “He loved cars, too. Seems I have a type.”

Frolicked in the surf? Loved cars?

“Wait.” I take a step toward her. “Did you just describe fucking Grease to me?”

She rolls her teeth to stop her laugh, but it’s not enough as it bubbles up her throat. God, I love her smile.

“You realize every one of those songs is filled with tons of sexual innuendo. If you pay attention, you’d realize they have filthier mouths than I could ever dream of.”

Her eyes dart to my mouth and down my glistening chest.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I make sure my stomach flexes in all the right places when I reach to get it. I look down at the text and frown.

“What’s wrong?” I love the concern in her voice.

“An emergency,” I lie. Well, not a total lie, but my neighbor may try to kill me in my sleep if I don’t get home quickly. I pull my t-shirt over my head and sweep my hand toward my truck. She offers me the keys. “Your pussy wagon, my lady.”

She snorts but walks in that direction. “Travolta drove a Ford.”

“I’ll trade the Chevy in tomorrow, baby. Hurry. I have to get home.”

She hustles inside, still letting me open and close her door for her.

“You going to tell me what’s going on?” she asks as we make our way around the block toward my house.

I smile at her but shake my head. “You’ll see.”

We drive, with the radio playing softly. She hums along to the lyrics of a song I’ve never heard before but has somehow managed to become my favorite.

“Why did you leave so early this morning?” I grin even wider at the insecurity in her voice which makes me an asshole.

“Miss me, Princess?”

“No,” she insists, but I see the smile on her face before she turns it from view.

“I had to make sure Joel didn’t burn my shop down yesterday. Had a few things to check off my list before the weekend, and then I planned to come right back to you.”

“I don’t want you—” She stops right before shutting me down once again. “Is this your house?”

I frown because I know she’s just putting off the inevitable.

“It is.” I turn the truck off and point. “And that is my very pissed off neighbor.”

I open her door for her, and it surprises me when she places her hand in mine to climb down and doesn’t pull it free when we start to walk across the yard.

I whistle and wait for the clinking of Raider’s dog tags. The sound never comes, but a bark can be heard from inside the house.

“Mrs. Houston?”

She hitches her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m calling the Home Owner’s Association if that satanic dog isn’t locked up immediately.”

Delilah stiffens beside me.

I smile when the dark headed woman appears behind Mrs. Houston.

“Hey, Lawson,” Cynthia says as she wraps her arms around her grandmother’s shoulders. “Raider’s been agitated more than usual. I normally wouldn’t bother you while you’re at work.”

“I’ll take care of him. Thanks for letting me know.”

I tug on Delilah’s hand as I pull her toward my house and Cynthia turns her grandmother around and guides her back to her house.

“She’s pretty,” Delilah says with a huff as I unlock my front door. Jealousy coming from Delilah Donovan has to be the best thing to happen since Harley came out with its Softail. “And she has your cell phone number. That’s lovely.”

I remain quiet as she enters my home for the very first time, but I can tell she’s working herself from mild envy of Cynthia to full-blown agitation.

“Does she come to visit when the old lady goes to sleep?”

I grab her by her shoulders and spin her around. “She has my number because sometimes her grandmother can’t hear when the phone rings and she gets worried about her. She’s never been inside of my home. Hell, I don’t know that she’s even stepped foot on my grass. And yes, Delilah, Cynthia is very pretty. A trait I’m absolutely certain her husband loves about her.”

A banging noise bounces off of the walls down the hallway. I give her a quick kiss on her stunned lips and head to my dog.

I whistle and the banging stops.

When I open the door to the nearly empty guest bedroom, Raider doesn’t even bother to act ashamed of the mess he’s created. He lunges for me.

“You,” I tell him scratching at his face as he licks my neck. “Are defective. I’m going to take you back if you keep this shit up. How does such a smart dog close himself inside of a bedroom?”

He yips, keeping to his inside voice and licks me more.

“You would never take a dog back to an animal shelter.” Delilah sounds thoroughly offended behind me.

Standing on his back legs, Raider is almost as tall as I am which makes it very easy for him to peer over my shoulder. I’ve never seen his tail wag so hard in the time we’ve been together.

“Shelter?” I laugh. “A shelter animal would be smarter than this dummy.”

Raider withdraws his legs and makes it to Delilah in less than a handful of steps. She’s knocked on her gorgeous ass before she can prepare herself for the dog’s attention

I snap my fingers, and he backs away immediately, a low whimper his only sign of discomfort.

“That’s impressive,” She says wiping dog spit from her face. Her smile is the biggest I’ve seen since before I left New Mexico.

“He’s not a shelter dog?” Sad eyes look up at me. “Please tell me you didn’t get him from a breeder. Tons of places breed animals in horrid conditions. Unless you visit there yourself, you never know how they’re treated.”

“He’s a therapy dog,” I confess waiting for the shame to hit me in the chest, but it never comes.

She grins back at Raider and pats her lap. The longing look he gives me over his shoulder is almost enough to make me let him go, but he knocked her down and could’ve hurt her. I don’t care how excited he is that another human being is in my home, that’s entirely unacceptable.

“He seems fine,” she says but frowns when the dog stays. “Does he have a brain condition?”

She pats her lap again and the dog whimpers.

“Raider.” His ears perk up, tail giving the slightest twitch. “Be gentle.”

He eases toward her, almost crawling on his stomach until his head is on her lap, tongue lapping at her hand for attention.

I sit beside them on the floor in the hall.

“He’s my therapy dog,” I clarify. “I was struggling about a year after I got here. Drew was living his life, doing better than anyone expected. He was busy with his friends, and even though I was working crazy hours at the shop, I was lonely. Da-Jaxon suggested a counselor, but I shut that shit down the second the word was out of his mouth.”

I expect her to laugh with me, but her face softens when she looks into my eyes.

“A week later he and Rob showed up with this asshole.” I rub the scruff on the back of Raider’s neck. “They told me he was super smart, knew every trick in the book, but as you can tell from his behavior just a minute ago they were fooled.”

Indignant eyes look from me and back to Raider. “How would you act if your person left you locked in a bedroom with no way to use the restroom, eat, or drink?”

I reach for her arm and guide her to the kitchen and point to his food and water bowl, both nearly full. She looks dumbfounded as I guide her to the back of the house and show her the dog door that gives Raider access to the backyard. “Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who locks his dog in a damn room?”

Her head angles in the direction of a soft click. “What was that?”

“Perfect timing,” I mutter and tug her arm once again until we’re standing in the hallway.

The door to the spare bedroom rattles and Raider whimpers from the other side.

“He shuts the door,” I tell her as I push it back open.

“You need to put a stopper under it,” she suggests.

“I’ve done that. He pulls it out and chews it up.” I stare down at the deviant who looks up at me as if he understands exactly what I’m saying. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Put a dog door in,” she says and walks back toward the living room. She looks back over her shoulder. “Aren’t you glad you have me?”

I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her stomach and pulling her against me.

“So glad I have you,” I whisper in her ear before nipping at the spot on her shoulder that drives me wild. “How have I survived without you?”

A low moan escapes her lips as her arm reaches over her head and her fingers run through my hair.

“If it’s for my safety, then I think it’s best if you just move in tonight.”