Page 24 of The Woman in the Warehouse

Even if it did mean leaving my mother unattended with Anthony.

I went to the women’s locker room that was almost always empty, other than a small handful of women who liked to lift heavy or fight. And didn’t mind the guys like Denny around offering to spot them when they didn’t need it, or, worse yet, lifting their weights up without even asking.

I stepped under the cold spray for as long as I could tolerate it, then went to my locker where I always kept a few changes of clothes—both workout and street—and slipped into a pair of black jeans and a gray long-sleeved t-shirt.

I brushed out my hair, then twisted it up into a claw clip until it wouldn’t drip all over my shoulders, then grabbed my phone with its wallet case and my keys, then went to save Anthony from my mother.

It just so happened that the moment I stepped into the gym, Anthony threw back his head and laughed at something—undoubtedly embarrassing—my mother said to him.

And that desire I thought I’d killed with the cold water? Yeah, it came rushing back.

Great.

Just great.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Anthony

I hadn’t exactly anticipated a boxing gym for our first meeting. Let alone to be forced into the ring and expected to fight her.

Granted, yeah, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to suit her personality. And if she hadn’t made me get in the ring, I never would have learned just how hot it would be when a gorgeous woman was circling you, looking for an opening to lunge at you.

I actually was questioning what it said about me that I was finding it so hot until I moved inward, and pressed the glove to Saylor’s chin, and watched as desire sparked in her dark eyes as well.

It wasn’t just me.

Though, that did seem to only complicate shit.

I hadn’t told Lorenzo about the little run-in with the gorgeous woman. Because, quite frankly, it wouldn’t exactly look good on me to have him know that I’d been stupid enough on a stakeout not to lock my doors.

I had let him know that I’d seen the guys moving a cache of weapons into their basement. Enough to cause some serious issues if their next move was to try to take a stand against us.

He’d agreed that it was way too soon to know, that it could just be that they were trying to establish an arms trade in the area, in which case we would need a meeting to establish what percentage they kicked up to the Family, but it wouldn’t mean that we had to dispatch guards to the wives and kids and sisters, or that we needed to formulate a plan to try to take any of them out.

So the job was the same.

Find out more information about them.

Report back when I had it.

I figured that anyone who was doing this job would be reaching out to sources to try to figure out more information, so there was no reason for me to be feeling guilty about using Saylor as a source as well.

This was the kind of shit I would be expected to make snap judgments on when I was the head of my own crew. I might as well start feeling comfortable about it now.

I was glad for a couple of minutes to put myself back together as Saylor rushed off to go get cleaned up.

Hell, I was even thankful for her mother’s company, because it kept me from turning and watching her daughter’s ass as she walked away.

“So, Anthony, you and my daughter are working together, I hear,” she said as she led me over toward a small area set up as a smoothie bar, though it seemed to be self-serve with access to the protein powders, supplements, and the fruit and vegetables in the fridge.

“I, ah, yeah,” I said, not wanting to out Saylor as an arms dealer in front of her mother, so I didn’t say anything beyond that.

“Oh, don’t tense up,” she said, shooting me a smile as she went to the fridge, pulling out a pre-made pink-colored smoothie. She waved one at me in a silent question, and I went ahead and nodded, being raised not to turn down a nice offer. Especially from someone’s mother. God, my own ma would whip my ass with a kitchen spatula if she heard I’d turned down a drink. “I know all about my daughter’s… career path,” she said, handing me a smoothie as she sat down at the table.

I moved to sit too, glad when I found the smoothie was strawberry and banana, and not some monstrosity filled with vegetables they claimed you couldn’t taste, but you absolutely could.

“So you know about last night?” I asked.

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