“Where did you go?” I murmured in the dark.
Slash’s hand slid up my back as he cocooned me in his arms. “Hmm?”
“When you left town at sixteen. Where did you go? What did you do?”
He didn’t answer right away, and I was afraid he was going to shut down the conversation. But he was finally opening up, and I prayed he continued.
“I was taking an auto tech class in high school,” he said. “My teacher was a good guy, came from a rough background himself. He had a cousin a few hours away who owned a garage. He made a call. I got onto a Greyhound bus with my shit and worked for Mackey for a few years and got my GED.”
He fell silent, and I knew he was done talking about it. Sharing clearly didn’t come easily to him, but he’d unveiled a lot to me tonight. It was enough.
I slipped into a dreamy doze, sated and warm, with Slash’s arms around me.
The sound of shattering glass roused me from sleep. Slash launched himself out of bed as the bakery’s alarm began to blare downstairs.
Woozy and half asleep, I got up and followed him.
“Stay here,” he commanded as he grabbed his pistol from the nightstand.
“Be careful.”
He didn’t reply as he slipped through the doorway in nothing more than a pair of boxers and a pistol in hand. I paced back and forth across the living room floor. There wasn’t a lot of space, so I had to turn around every few steps.
The door opened after a few minutes and Slash filled the doorway. He stood there shirtless with his expansive chest and ink on full display, and for a moment I was distracted.
“Get dressed,” he said.
“Did you find out what happened?” I asked as I moved to the bedroom. I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans.
“Someone threw a brick through the front window,” he explained.
“A brick?” I asked, perplexed.
“Yeah. I need you to turn off the alarm. Is it one those alarms that alerts the cops when it goes off?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Good? What do you mean good?”
“I mean, good. I don’t like cops.”
I blew out a breath and then slipped into a pair of flip-flops.
“Ah, maybe you should put on a shirt and some pants?” I suggested.
He scratched his pec. “Maybe I should.”
A few minutes later, silence descended over the bakery. I went to investigate the broken window. Shards of glass littered the floor along with a thick red brick that had caused the destruction. My body began to shake and quiver. Tears weren’t far behind.
Slash pulled me into his arms and pressed my head to his chest. We stood like that until I heard the rumble of a few motorcycles.
I looked up at Slash.
He smiled down at me. “I called some of the boys.”
“Why?”
“So they can board up your window until tomorrow when it can get fixed. We know a ton of people in town who do various jobs. Glass isn’t going to be a problem.”
“Oh, wow. Okay, I know you don’t like cops, but shouldn’t we call them to file a report?” I asked.
“No. You have a camera security feed?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“I’ll bet you ten bucks you won’t see anything of use on there. If there is, we can call the cops. Promise.”
With a sigh, I pulled back from him and removed my phone from my jeans pocket. I unlocked it and opened the app that fed into the security feed. Slash had been correct. There was only a shadowy lone figure out front of the bakery, and after they threw the brick, they dashed out of sight.
“I don’t get it,” I mumbled. “Why would someone do this? It seems… I don’t know. Like why didn’t they try and steal anything?”
I looked at Slash, who was rubbing his jaw in thought. “I don’t think the purpose of this was a smash and grab.”
“Then what was the point?” I demanded. “Sheer fun to destroy something that isn’t theirs?”
There was a knock on the back door, and Slash went to answer it. I shook my head. I felt like I was missing something.
Were any other storefronts vandalized tonight or had I been the only one?
Slash returned to the front room with two Blue Angels, who I immediately recognized.
“Hey, Brooklyn,” Savage greeted as Duke followed him into the room.
“Hey,” I said. “Thanks for coming, guys.”
Slash grabbed my hand and then addressed Savage and Duke. “You guys fix the window when you can. Text me when it’s done.”
“Thanks,” I called to them.
Slash began to pull me toward the direction of the stairs.
“Uh, Slash?” I asked, tugging on his shirt.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep.”
He dropped my hand and then placed his palm on the small of my back, urging me up the stairs. “We’re not going back to sleep in your apartment. You’re packing an overnight bag and we’re getting a hotel room.”
“That seems kind of ridiculous,” I said. “Can’t we just go to the clubhouse and stay in your room?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I demanded.
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer,” I huffed. I took a step away from him, but he quickly grasped my hand and hauled me back into his arms.
“There’s a party going on at the clubhouse, and it’s still raging. There are some things we need to discuss in private, and I want to do it while we’re in a king-sized bed where my feet don’t hang off the end.”
I tilted my head back to look at him. “What things do we need to discuss?”
He leaned down and brushed a kiss across my lips. “Things.”
“Your credit card must be tired,” I said as Slash unlocked the hotel room.
“Nah, it’s fine.” He pushed the door open and let me walk in first. The room was a deluxe suite and Slash hadn’t even asked the price.
He dropped my overnight bag onto the king-sized bed and then reached for me. “What do you want? Food? Sleep?”
“Yes,” I said with a laugh.
He stared down at me, his eyes melting with warmth. “I like hearing you laugh.”
I swallowed, feeling the moment settle between us.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For taking care of me,” I said simply. “For having people to call when my bakery gets vandalized.”
“Don’t thank me for that,” he said quietly. “It’s what I’m here for.”
I sighed. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”
He smiled slightly. “I’ve got a little handbook I carry with me wherever I go. It tells me how to calm females in the wild.”
“Ridiculous.” I snuggled up against his chest, having no desire to move.
His fingers threaded through my hair. “I’m glad I was there tonight.”
My breath hitched, thinking about being upstairs in my apartment. Alone. What if this had been months from now and it was just the baby and me?
I didn’t like that thought. I didn’t like that thought at all.
“My dad never had any problems in the neighborhood,” I said quietly. “Not in all the years he had his shop there. If anything…”
“What?”
“It’s strange,” I said quietly, pulling away just long enough to look up at him. “The neighborhood has been going through a sort of renaissance. Buildings have been getting bought and cleaned up and painted. Why did someone target my bakery instead of those buildings? Why didn’t they steal anything?”
“What were they going to do? Take the espresso machine?” Slash asked.
“They would’ve if they’d been a smart thief,” I murmured. “That thing cost eight grand.”
“Eight grand? And you were driving a piece-of-shit car…”
“Business expense,” I muttered. “And the car still ran.”
“I can see us fighting about this forever,” he stated.
“So, let’s stop fighting about it now.” I placed a hand on his chest. “I have a brand-new car, compliments of my BBD.”
He raised his brows. “BBD?”
“Biker Baby Daddy.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did.”
“You don’t actually call me that, do you?”
I snorted. “No. Jazz does, though.”
He shook his head.
“Do we have a better name for you?” I asked in amusement.
Slash fell silent and his gaze was relentless. Tension crackled between us, and all levity fled.
“Woman,” he said softly. “You’re not ready for the title I want.”
A little breath of air escaped my mouth.
He cupped the back of my head. “What do you want to eat?”
“Eat?” I repeated.
“Yeah, eat.” He smiled. “It’s been a few hours since I’ve fed you.”
“And we did burn a few calories,” I said breathlessly.
His eyes darkened. “More than a few.”
“Pancakes,” I blurted out. “I want pancakes.”
“Then pancakes you’ll get. But first…” Slash backed me up toward the bed. “I’m hungry too…”
The moment my eyes opened, I sprang out of bed and ran for the bathroom. After I was finished upchucking, I rinsed out my mouth and went back to bed. It took me a moment to realize I was alone. Slash’s boots and leather cut were gone.
A bottle of ginger ale and a box of saltines rested on the nightstand next to me. My heart fluttered when I saw the handwritten note.
Didn’t want to wake you and I had a few things to take care of this morning. The window has been fixed. Stay in bed, watch some TV, and I’ll be back in a few hours.
I settled back down and drank the ginger ale. My phone buzzed. With a sigh, I hauled myself out of bed and searched for my purse. It was on the floor in the suite living room. I dug through it and answered it before it rolled to voicemail.
“I can’t get into the bakery,” Jazz said. “My key doesn’t work.”
“It doesn’t?” I asked in surprise. “Why are you at the bakery? I thought we were meeting tomorrow about the Bennington’s engagement party.”
“We are. But I think I left my wallet in the office.”
“Ah.”
“Where’s your car? It’s not in its spot.”
A key card sinking into the electronic lock on the hotel room door pulled my attention, and then a moment later, Slash strode into the bedroom.
I shivered from the heated look he was giving me.
“Brooklyn? Are you there?”
“Sorry, Jazz, I’m here. Give me a second.” I put her on mute and said to Slash, “Jazz is at the bakery and her key doesn’t work.”
He nodded. “I had the boys change the locks. The shit you had on there, even a kid could’ve picked.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “She can’t get in.”
Slash reached into his leather cut pocket and pulled out a set of keys and held them up.
I smiled at him. “Is that what you were doing this morning? Getting a set of keys for me?”
He nodded.
I unmuted her and put the phone back to my ear. “Jazz? You still there?”
“Yep.”
“Slash had the locks changed.”
“Why?”
I sighed. “Long story.”
“You still haven’t told me why your car isn’t here. Come down and let me in and tell me what’s going on.”
“Jazz, I’m not there.”
Slash plucked the phone from my hand and put it to his ear. “Jazz,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “It’s Slash. We’re at a hotel because someone chucked a brick through the bakery window last night.” He paused for a moment and then said, “Yeah, I was sleeping at her place. No, we’re not headed back to the bakery anytime soon. I’ll have one of my boys drop off a set of keys to your place. It’s no trouble, I promise. Brooklyn will see you tomorrow.” He paused again. “I will.”
The line went dead, and he handed the phone back to me.
“That’s it?” I demanded.
“That’s it,” he said. A rogue smile splashed across his face.
“You will what?”
“She asked me to take care of you. She’s protective of you.”
“I know.”
“I like that. That’s a good friend.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest.
His eyes drifted over me and went to the empty bottle of ginger ale next to the bed.
“I feel better,” I said, answering his tacit question.
“Good.” His voice sounded like a purr. Despite my sore body, I wanted him again. Immediately.
“I didn’t hear you get up this morning,” I said.
He reached out and pulled me into the column of his strong chest. His hand cradled my cheek, and he swept the rough pad of his thumb against my bottom lip.
“You were sound asleep. Didn’t want to wake you.” He removed his thumb, but only so he could lean down and capture my lips with his.
I sank into his touch, still ravenous for him. I gripped him by his vest and tugged him toward the bed.
Slash chuckled against my lips. “Brooklyn.”
“Hmm?”
“Brooklyn, stop.”
My eyes flew open. “Stop? You want me to stop? I was just about to get naked.”
“Yeah, and normally I wouldn’t let anything stop me from being with you, but we’ve got some place to be.”
“The bakery? Jazz doesn’t mind waiting until tomorrow for the keys.”
“Not there. Somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?” My lips quirked into a grin as I placed my hand on my stomach. “Haven’t we had enough of those?”