Page 30 of Demons

He was typing something on his phone, looking as relaxed as he had been before. As if my favorite cookies weren’t on the tray in front of us.

Did I ask, point it out, thank him?

He looked up from his phone to me, then at the tray. “What? Those aren’t your favorite anymore?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Then, get some before I do,” he replied before dropping his eyes back to his phone and continuing to type.

I was his jockey. Perhaps he’d had the cookies ordered for me because they wanted to treat me. This did not mean he had been delivering them to my front porch at night. That wasn’t typical Thatcher behavior. But then neither was this.

Picking up a plate, I placed two cookies on it, then took three strawberries and a few blackberries before sitting back in my seat.

Thatcher muttered a curse as he stared down at his phone, then stood up and walked toward a door in the back while placing the phone to his ear.

“Then, fucking fix it,” I heard him bark into the phone before disappearing into another room.

I let out a sigh and stared down at the plate in my lap. Reading too much into some cookies was silly. He didn’t know much about me, but this one thing. One evening on a park bench, he’d found out they were my favorite. Perhaps he was supposed to ask me what I’d like for the food on the flight, and he hadn’t wanted to take the time and just gone with the cookies. The one thing he did know.

That had to be it.

• Thirteen •

She made me care about shit that I’d never cared about before.

Thatcher

Having her room canceled at the hotel had been a necessity. I couldn’t watch her in a hotel room. The idea of not being able to check on her when needed didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t be sure how I’d respond to that situation. The suite I’d booked when I informed my father I’d be going on this trip took up the entire top floor. It was large enough that she’d feel as if she had privacy.

She hadn’t said any more about the cookies on the flight, but it had been hard not to fucking grin at how transparent she was. She wanted to ask. Little doll was curious as fuck.

Smirking, I glanced over at her, standing so damn straight and tense beside me on the elevator. The room situation seemed to have upset her. She’d see soon enough that it was equivalent to a luxury three-bedroom apartment.

From the moment our limo had entered the city, she had been glued to the window. It was clear she hadn’t expected to see Manhattan while we were here. We were an hour’s drive from The Big A—the Aqueduct Racetrack, the only racetrack in New York City—but the accommodations here couldn’t be found in Queens. If it had just been me, I’d have slept in the trailer that Bloodline was brought here on. This was for her. The wide-eyed excitement on her face had immediately dropped when she realized we were in the same suite. I didn’t care for that.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out, not waiting on her to go first. If I had, we’d still be standing there. I knew she’d follow me. The wide hallway was short and led to the two doors of our suite. I tapped the round key card against the lock and then pushed down on the elaborate handle to enter the suite.

Stepping inside, I held the door open for her. Capri moved slowly, as she was once again checking things out with a look of amazement on her face. The entrance was rather impressive, I supposed.

“This is a suite,” she breathed, passing me as she headed for the windows overlooking Fifth Avenue. “It has a balcony!” The thrill in her voice made me grin involuntarily.

She opened the French doors and went outside. It was hot as fuck in New York today, but clearly, she didn’t care.

I headed for the bar and got a glass down to fix a drink while she took in the view. Miller was expecting us in two hours, but I hadn’t decided yet if we would be going to the park today or waiting until the morning. The way Capri was clearly enthralled had me leaning on staying here today.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my pocket and looked down at the text to see my brother wanted to know when we would arrive. Pushy fucker. Probably not today. I didn’t respond before placing it on the bar and picking up my glass of bourbon.

“That view is insane. It’s like every movie set in New York that I’ve ever seen,” Capri said with a glow on her face.

I took a drink, watching her. Having her here with me was going to be an issue. I liked it. Weird shit was happening in my chest when she smiled like that. Knowing I’d put that look on her face struck some possessive chord inside me that I had not known existed. It could be unpleasant for others. I wasn’t sure yet how this would play out. With Capri, I could never seem to correctly predict my reactions.

“You’ve never been to Manhattan?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.

She shook her head. “I’ve raced at Belmont and even The Big A, but we always stayed there. We never came here.”

I’d say that was a shame, but knowing I was the first one to bring her here gave me pleasure. Another potentially bad thing. I guessed we’d find out just how adversely this would affect me and my actions.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

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