Page 75 of Snared Rider

“Trouble in paradise?” Dean’s voice asks from the doorway behind me.

I jump out of my skin, my heart pounding as I round on him. “Are you trying to kill me?” I demand, irritation clear in my tone. My nerves cannot deal with any more stress.

Dean seems unperturbed in the face of my annoyance. He’s leaning against the door jamb, his arms folded over his chest. He’s changed his clothes since I last saw him and is wearing a soft grey T-shirt beneath his kutte and a pair of dark blue jeans.

“I’m guessing the dickhead doesn’t approve of you being here.”

I glare at him. “You do know it’s rude to eavesdrop, right?”

He gives me an unapologetic shrug as he moves into the room and pushes my feet aside to sit at the end of the settee. He does this, even though there are two other sofas in the room that are empty. Once he’s seated, he pulls my feet over his thighs and covers me again.

“You were talking loudly, B. With the door open.”

This is true, but so not the point.

“So you, what? Stopped to listen?”

The look he gives me is so serious I frown at him.

“Is he the reason you don’t come home?”

I’m taken off guard by his question. “What?”

“From what you said it sounds like he makes it hard for you to visit. Is that the case?”

My eyes go to the ceiling as I let out a breath. “This is why you shouldn’t listen into private conversations that have nothing to do with you, Dean.”

“Just answer the fucking question, Beth.” He ignores my protestation, which pisses me off, and I let him know this by growling my response to him.

“This is none of your bloody business.”

His hands go to my feet and he softly rubs them through the blanket. “If Alistair is stopping you coming here then it’s my business.”

I let out a frustrated noise in the back of my throat. “It’s nothing to do with Alistair. I’ve just been… busy.”

He studies me, really studies me, and I resist the urge to squirm under his focus. “No—the dickhead isn’t the only reason you aren’t coming home. That started way before you got with him. So, what’s the issue? You embarrassed by us?”

I smack him, even as I feel my face heat. “Give over. I’m not embarrassed; I’m not anything. I’m here right now, aren’t I?” I duck my head to hide my warm cheeks from him. I’m not embarrassed by my family, but I am ashamed of my own behaviour. It’s not a nice feeling.

“You’re here because your dad pleaded with you.” And I realise from his words just how much of the conversation he’d listened to.

Nosey bastard.

The last thing I need is Dean digging around for answers as to why I’ve been the queen of avoidance. The less he (and the rest of the Club) knows about my past with Logan the better.

“Look, I have a busy life—one I like,” I lie. I hate my life. It sucks. “I know I’ve been lax in my visits but that’ll stop. I’ll do better,” I promise.

This is not a lie. I fully intend to do better. This visit has shown me just how much I need my family, and Logan’s presence is no longer going to stop me from seeing them.

Dean doesn’t seem appeased by my answer. “What’s going on with you, Beth? Growing up you were all about the Club and then it was like a switch flipped and you couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

Logan happened.

I don’t say this, but the thought skitters across my brain. However, I know Dean: some explanation will be required. Even if that explanation is not wholly the truth.

“Dean, I love this Club and I love my family but as a woman there’s no place for me here other than as an old lady or a Club girl. You think Jack would allow either of those scenarios?”

I keep my face impassive, hoping I show no emotion because at one point I wanted to be an old lady more than anything; I wanted to be Logan’s old lady. But he ripped that choice from me.

---