Page 99 of Judge's Mercy

“We so did,” I say. “He shoved my pants down, bent me over the desk, and—” Judge’s hand slaps over my mouth as he steps behind me, pinning me to his front.

“Good for you, Judge. I knew you had it in you.”

“Fuck off.”

Bones kicks the door jambs out, and the doors close silently, leaving us alone. Judge takes my hand and leads us down the aisle, where we take a seat on the raised platform that the pulpit sits on. With the wonderment of a dreamer, Judge studies every inch of the space.

I remain silent, giving him all the time he needs, but while his eyes are on the arched, vaulted ceilings with cedar beams, making it seem like a cozy cabin, and the outdated light fixtures I already have plans to change out, my eyes are on him.

His beard is shorter, but his hair is longer, sexier. His hooded eyes are just as intense and knowing; however, there are dark circles underneath them, telling me he hasn’t been sleeping well. I hope that’ll change now that I’m back in his life and he has the church. The freckles across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks are more prominent, making me think he’s been taking a lot of rides in the sun. When he meets my gaze, I get a good look at my second favorite part of his anatomy, that damned Adam’s apple. God, this man is beautiful.

“I still can’t believe it.” He shakes his head, clasping my hand and resting it on his muscled thigh. “I never even considered running a church.”

“You had your stroke of genius to make me a prospect, and I had mine with this place.”

“Apparently, we can’t solve our own problems, but we can solve each other’s.”

“It’s been like that from the very beginning. If we’ve proven anything, it’s that neither one of us has even an ounce of self-preservation.”

He sighs. “You’re not wrong.”

“Will you stay nomad?”

“No. Now that I have this place, I have a purpose, though I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“You’ll figure it out.” I rest my head on his shoulder, soaking in how perfect everything feels.

“Yeah.” Blowing out a breath, he hops off the platform and steps between my legs, resting his hands on my thighs. “You and I have some stuff to figure out too.”

“I know, but just for today can we pretend like it’s weeks from now and the dust has settled and we have all the answers?” I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’ve done enough problem solving the last couple days.”

“Just for today,” he agrees, gripping me gently at the base of my throat and pulling me in for a heart-stopping kiss, leaving me dazed when he pulls away. “Let’s go. If we’re going to pretend everything is right in our world, then I want to do it where there’s a bed handy.”

“Yes, please.”

“Hop on.” He turns and reaches back to grip my thighs.

“Yay! A piggyback ride.” I hang onto him like a spider monkey, giggling like the girl I once was, feeling more like her than I have in a long time, and it’s all because of this perfectly imperfect man.

“Your place or mine?”

“Definitely yours.”

“Really?” He sets me down next to his bike. “I thought you’d want to get home to Ryder.”

“It’s cool. I’ll just have my roommate feed him.” I tighten my helmet and throw a leg over the bitch seat, hoping he didn’t hear that last part.

“Roommate?” He pulls my helmet off and pins me with a look. “Since when did you get a roommate?”

“Since last week. Come on. Let’s go,” I say, taking the dome from him and plopping it back on my head.

“Who is it, Myla?” he growls.

“Well, it’s a funny story. Tigger’s parents kicked him out of their basement, and Rigger already said he’ll give him his old cabin once Tig gets patched in, but until then, he has nowhere to go. He’ll be my club brother someday, so I couldn’t just let him live on the streets.”

“Tigger is your roommate?” he deadpans.

“Just until he patches in.” Honestly, it wasn’t much of a change since he’s been hanging out, “protecting me” for weeks now, and my spare room was empty. Plus, if he didn’t live with me, it’d be harder to watch all our reality shows together.

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