Page 52 of The Enforcer

Shane: I’m at home.

Instead of texting him back, I press the call button. What the fuck? Shane rarely leaves his office this early when he has a case. From what he told me, this is a big case that he planned to spend many late nights working on. Is he sick? Hell, even that won’t keep Shane home. One year, he went into the office while he had the flu to work on a case.

Shane answers quickly, not sounding sick at all. But he does sound … wrong. “Hey, baby.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, turning around on my bar stool.

His sigh is long. “Can you just come over when you’re free? I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” I hang up the phone, snag my helmet and hustle out to my chopper.

What the fuck? Shane home in the middle of the day? Under other circumstances, if he asked me to come over, I’d think he wanted to have a quickie, but his voice sounded like that was the furthest thing from his mind. It doesn’t sound like the voice of a man that has something filthy planned for us.

I’m at Shane’s condo in less than fifteen minutes, having blown through several lights to get to him. If he knew, he’d give me shit for being reckless while on my bike, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, I made it in one piece.

Sliding my key into his door, I push it open and find Shane lying on his couch, a pair of sweatpants on with no shirt, his feet bare. Shane is a fucking vision. I’ll never get tired of looking at him. His body is so fucking sexy, his abs and chest clearly defined, the contrast in our sizes turning me on. I always have a hard time keeping my hands off him.

He sits up, a shaky smile on his face. “You got here fast.” Shane stares at me for a few beats, then frowns. “Did you speed?”

I put my hand on my chest, feigning innocence. “Me? No. Never.”

Sitting on the couch after I set down my helmet and keys, I pat the space beside me. Shane slides over, wrapping his arms around my middle. “What’s up, Counselor?”

His bitter laugh is muffled against my chest. “That’s funny. I don’t think I’m a counselor anymore. I quit my job today.”

“Wait, what?” I pull Shane’s head up so he can look at me. He looks so sad, so defeated. “Was it because of me?” Those suits looked at me like I was shit on the bottom of their shoes today. I’m sure one or both of them said some bullshit to Shane to make him quit. “Can you try to get your job back?”

He scoffs. “I don’t want it back. I won’t work for people like that.”

“What happened?”

Swallowing thickly, Shane says, “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“Can’t do that. I’m already mad that someone made you quit your job.”

Rolling his eyes, Shane says, “Fine.” He tells me what happened when he got to the meeting with the man that tried to use his gaze to cut me down. My blood starts to boil when Shane tells me the shit he said to him. He can think what he wants about me and the MC, but to use that to make Shane drop us? Bad fucking move.

I’m thinking of ways I can make this man hurt when Shane lies back on my chest. Automatically, my arms go around him. “I’m okay. I’m still a little dazed by it, but I’m okay. It’s funny; I was just thinking about opening my own practice before I went to his office. I guess I have all the time I need to make that happen.” He releases another humorless laugh. “I’m lucky I’ve been saving most of my paycheck over the years. I’ll have a way to pay my rent for up to a year if need be.”

“You can move in with me and not have to worry about rent at all,” I blurt out. It’s not a sudden decision though. I’ve been thinking about Shane moving in with me for weeks. Waking up to him and going to sleep with him, making sure he has lunch for work and has dinner when he gets home holds so much appeal for me. I didn’t want to move too fast, since he just became my boyfriend a few weeks ago, but the timing couldn’t be better.

Shane leans up, peering into my face, searching my eyes. “You’re serious.” He sounds surprised, like he didn’t think I was all in with him. There’s no one else I’d rather be with. Shane is my end game. He’s my property. He belongs to me.

“Of course, I am. I own my home, so you can save that money for whatever you want to use it for. And,” I say, rubbing my nose against his, “I want to wake up every morning with you and fall asleep with you every night. I want you with me all the time. Say yes. Move in with me.”

“Yes, Zeke. I’ll move in with you.”

Cupping his face, I pull him in for a kiss that I hope expresses just how happy I am that he’ll be with me all the time.

When we break apart, Shane smiles, rubbing a hand down my face. “Now we can really get that dog.”

I laugh, kissing his palm. “Sorry to break it to you, but my neighbor’s name is Janet.” Shane’s laugh is high and happy, making my chest feel tight. “I really love you.”

Smiling down at him, I respond in kind. “I really love you too.”

“Come to Cuba with me. They have beautiful, sandy beaches, great drinks, amazing people. We can have fun. It’ll get your mind off your bullshit boss.” My hand closes into a fist as I think about what Shane told me. If I didn’t think Shane would be mad at me, I’d have a conversation with that Clinton bitch in a dark alley, where no one could hear him scream.

Shane and I spend the rest of the night talking about the logistics of him moving in. He wants to leave all his furniture and shit here, but some of it is newer and nicer than mine. We settle on the couch and recliner coming to my house. My bed is larger and more comfortable than his, so his will be left behind. He barely has any kitchen appliances and dishes, so that’s not even a discussion.

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