Luke

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I ran my hand down Emily’s bare back, tracing my fingers down her spine. Her skin was damp with late-summer-sex sweat, but she still shivered under my touch.

“That feels nice,” she said into the pillow, her relaxed post-orgasm voice. “Do you think anyone heard us?”

“Probably,” I said, running my fingers over her again. “You’re loud, babe.”

“I can’t help it,” she said. “You know I like it when you bend me over like that.”

I brushed her hair away from her neck and leaned in and kissed her warm skin. “I like it when you suck my cock,” I said in her ear, “but I don’t make noise like that.”

She squirmed. “You make more noise than you think you do. I hope Jace has noise cancelling headphones.”

I smiled against her skin. Jace had moved out of the halfway house and was now living in the guest house. We’d made it up nice for him, with all new furniture. The guest house was private and quiet, but I had the bedroom window partly open to catch the breeze, and it was possible the sound had carried.

The main house was just for us—because Emily lived here now. It hadn’t taken us long to decide that she should move out of her mother’s place and in with me. It had seemed like the natural next move, and it was working out perfectly. We’d wasted enough time already.

I put a hand on Emily’s hip and rolled her onto her back. She was always extra pliant after I made her come, and she let me do it. I propped my head on my hand and looked down at her. It was Sunday afternoon, the best time—in my opinion—for lazy, hot, drawn-out sex with my girlfriend. When I could see every inch of her.

“You have to work tomorrow?” I asked.

She groaned softly. “Yes. We’re getting the new coloring chemicals in. The shipment arrives at eight, and I have to be there.”

Emily wasn’t just running her sister’s salon anymore; she was now part owner. Lauren’s divorce was almost final, but she said she was burned out on the business and still wanted time off. Emily, on the other hand, was a born natural at running the shop, and loved doing it. My girl liked to be her own boss.

So the two sisters had worked out a deal: Emily ran the place, while Lauren was more of a silent partner, helping with the big decisions only. Emily took a bigger share of the profits, but Lauren still got a cut. After six months, if Lauren still didn’t want to come back, Emily would own the place outright.

It was an arrangement that worked for both of them.

“What are you going to do?” Emily asked me.

I traced a fingertip over her bare collarbone. “Jace and I will go into Riggs Auto. Try to get it ready to open next week.”

After the busts, I’d closed Riggs Auto indefinitely. Everyone who worked there was either arrested or fired. No more stolen cars came through there, and eventually the heat from the cops died down. Nora Parker had her arrests, she had her credit, and she had her promotion.

And yeah, I went to dinner at Detective Parker’s house. Often. We got along fine, in fact. Because she was Emily’s mother, and Emily mattered to me.

I’d done side work over the last two months to make money, taking in repairs and doing them myself in the closed down body shop. But Jace was back now, and he needed a job. And we had customers—real ones—who wanted to come back. And hell, who knew, maybe we could even get new customers if we opened up again and did it right.

So we were working on it, Jace and me. Clearing out the confusing piles of paper and putting a computer in the body shop’s office. Figuring out credit cards and sales taxes and all the other shit Dad had always done under the table. We’d looked at new equipment and cleaning the shop out, getting rid of the old junkers that didn’t run and made the shop look shitty. We were even considering getting a new sign.

We had the money, after all. It was sitting in the safe deposit box in Detroit in envelopes with our names on it. Ryan had even given us his envelope to use, though Dex’s share was gone. We figured the best use for Dad’s dirty money was to fix up his dirty shop, completely against his instructions.

We Riggs brothers were legit, but not that legit.

Emily rolled off the bed and walked to the bathroom. I watched her go. It took her a little while to clean up in there, because we’d graduated to going bare—something I’d never done with any woman before. It was different, and it was fucking awesome. There was no feeling like coming bare inside your woman, even though we weren’t trying to have kids. Not now, and maybe not ever. We were in no rush.

When she came out again, she picked up my discarded T-shirt from the floor and put it on. She sat on the bed and scrubbed a hand through her sex-tousled hair. “Do you think he’s lonely back there?” she said.

“Who?”

“Jace.” She ran a finger over the tattoo on my arm. “He’s so quiet. He has no friends, no girl. He works and reads books by himself. He seems lonely.”

“Getting out of prison is hard, babe,” I said. “A lot of guys can’t readjust.”

She nodded, still tracing my tattoo. There was a worried frown between her eyes. “Maybe he should get some help.”

“He is,” I said. “They’re sending him to some kind of counselor. He goes the day after tomorrow.”

“Maybe that will be good,” she allowed.

I tugged on her bent knee and pulled her across the covers toward me. “You worried about my brothers?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes and lay back against the pillows. “Only Jace,” she said. “Ryan and Dex are hopeless.”

I laughed. Ryan was still in Detroit with Dylan, and I had no idea where Dex was. Since it was Sunday afternoon, he was probably sleeping off last night’s party. “Good,” I said. “Jace is nice, but there’s only one Riggs who’s your business.”

She looked up at me with those beautiful gray eyes, and she smiled. She hooked an arm around my neck. “You’re my business,” she said.

“Yeah,” I told her. “I am.”

Then I kissed her.

And we got down to business.