Page 6 of Southpaw Slots

Remembering the last time the maid came in and exasperatingly cleaned up the closet, I kick the clothes toward the hamper. There. That should help. My good deed is done for the day.

I head down the hall to the guest suite once I’ve finished my champagne. There’s a balcony with stairs there so I can avoid the watchful eyes of Wenz. I call him Wince because whenever I have to look at his annoying face, it’s all my eyes do.

Fortunately, my new guard is nowhere to be seen. Slipping inside the room, I carefully shut the doorwithout making a sound. Max and Livia will be busy with their post-breakfast romp, so they won’t hear me anyway, but I don’t want anyone else to. The getaway is clean as I climb down the narrow wooden stairs, then half jog across the cobblestones to the garage around the back of the manor.

When I round the corner of the open doors, Wince is standing there with sunglasses on, ripped arms folded, and leaning againstmyHarley. With a smirk. My eyes narrow at him.

“Where’re you going, princess?”

“Hello, kid. Why are you touching my things?” I point to his ass resting on the leather seat. He’s only two years younger, but he has this full mustache like he’s a state trooper in his mid-forties. And he acts like it, too. Annoying.

“He doesn’t want to see you right now.”

My jaw drops at his audacity, hands finding my hips. “I don’t knowwhatyou’re talking about. It’s a gorgeous day and I want to ride my bike around the grounds.”

Lifting up his shades, his light brown eyes stare me down with a blank expression before speedily scanning my frame. Almost so quick one wouldn’t catch it, butIdo. “Arianna, I’m not a fucking idiot.”

My gaze is drawn to the stretch in his khakis. Pulling my bottom full lip under my front teeth, I let my arms hang at my sides, then stroll towards him. He holds his ground and doesn’t move an inch, even whenI sidle up to him so close, I can smell his nasty cheap cologne. “Wince, may I ride my bike, please? I’ll be a good girl.”

If I blinked, I’d miss his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air around us. Very obviously, his erection jumps in his pants as he clenches his teeth, the muscle pulsating as he does. But he still doesn’t make any moves.

Placing my lips just barely on his clean-shaven jawline, I whisper, “I’ll beyourgood girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Now, his cheeks fill with red-hot blood as he barely turns his head to me. “Arianna, you can ride…” Biting his lips, he refrains from saying something he shouldn’t, or else I’d tell Maxi and my brother would gut him. “You can ride your bike around the grounds. That’s it. Stop trying to get me fired. Or killed.”

I stroke a black-painted fingernail down his white T-shirt, smiling sweetly. “Thanks, Wince! I adore you.” With two smacked-lipped air kisses, I slide past him and onto my bike. He moves out of the way with his arms still crossed and a look of defeat emblazoned on his cute little face. He’ll get in trouble later, I’m sure.

And I don’t care.

I need to see my boyfriend.

My helmet fogs with the heat of summer sweat as I exit the back farm gate before carefully shutting and locking it again. It’s only a few miles to the shop, and as I pull into the driveway, all the boys inside stop and glance up from their work.

Oh! The side of the building has been crushed. Wyatt and his men just spent weeks supervising a new build, and it already looks like someone took a backhoe to it. Great. That means he’s going to be extra grumpy. As I get off the bike, I tie my boobs up slightly higher and reapply some lipstick.

I saunter into the shop, hips moving hypnotically while the guys give me a skeptical eye. I know they don’t like me, but Wyatt does, and he’s the only one who matters. His broad back is turned, facing his workbench as the other men grumble under their breaths, but everyone seems to spread out and head in different directions as I make my slow approach.

Sliding my arms around his middle, Wyatt remains still and keeps up his task as I press my cheek into the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. “I missed you.”

Straightening, his rough palm lays over my hand, and he speaks to the wall in front of him. “Vixen, you can’t be here.” At the resonating sound of my pet name through his rib cage, my heart races. He still loves me. And I know just what he needs to feel better.

A good fight.

I drop my hold on him and take a step back, placing a perfect pout on my mouth. “Why not?”

He avoids my eyes as he turns slowly, his greens hitting the floor instead. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.”

His cut shoulder bumps my little one as he brushespast me before kneeling in front of the motorcycle he’s working on.

“Wyatt.” I repeat his name three more times as he continues to ignore me. My eyes fall on an open pan of oil sitting on the floor nearby. Using the toe of my boot, I kick it hard until the entire thing sprays inky globs all over the room, some on Wyatt’s veiny forearms blending with the lines of his tattoos. His entire frame stiffens as he stands and faces me. And when he does, a pang of guilt rips at the lining of my stomach. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.

His eyes are glassy, and the pain in his expression is almost too much for me to bear.

“You went and married him. That’s why. You’re someone’s wife now.”

I reach out my hand to touch him, but he pulls away, and ithurts. Being without him is not an option. “You know I didn’t have a choice. I had to save my brother and sister-in-law. Wyatt, it was the only way.” A sob escapes my throat and I think it’s genuine. “Please.Please, I can’t live without you.” My heart does feel like it’s broken without being able to be with him. Without being able to just talk with him. Part of my soul has been missing since he started backing off, but part of me is also drunk.

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