Page 110 of Rest In Pieces

“Say it again,” I growl, pressing into her. My hand moves around her neck, my thumb pressing against her pulse point, which flutters wildly.

“What? G?—”

I nip her lip. “Say it again.”

“I don’t like seeing another woman all over you,” she says, her voice uncertain.

I growl. “No.”

“My man?”

I reward her with a kiss hot enough to set us both on fire. I pull away reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to lose myself in her, but I need to put some distance between Amity and Monica first.

“I’m taking you home. I called Mac in. He’s gonna take over guarding Monica for the rest of the day.”

She opens her mouth to protest, so I kiss her again, cutting off whatever she was about to say.

“Don’t say no. Let me show you how sorry I am.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Okay, fine. Let me grab my bag.”

“Thank you,” I say, relieved as I step back so she can run in and grab her things. It shouldn’t take her too long since she was already planning on spending the night.

I wander over to one of the empty seats between the trailers and wait. I should probably get Blade to pull me off this case. I’m not willing to lose Amity over it.

Leaning back, I close my eyes. I must drift off because the next thing I know, Mac’s kicking my boot.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“No worries, I just got here. Where’s the woman I’m supposed to be watching?”

I look at my watch. “She should be in her trailer. She only has two scenes left for today, so it shouldn’t be too late.”

“I’m off tonight anyway. Wrapped up a custom build about an hour ago, so I’m free.”

“I appreciate it, man. I fucked up, and I need a chance to make it right,” I tell him, getting to my feet.

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“I hope so, Mac. I really hope so.” I see Amity coming out of the RV with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Alright, I’ll catch you later.”

I walk over to Amity and take her hand before she can change her mind and lead her to my bike. I hand her the helmet, and she frowns.

“Put it on, Amity.”

“I can’t wear this. You need it,” she protests, her frown deepening.

“I’m not letting you on my bike without a helmet, Amity. You’re precious cargo. We’ll ride over on the way and get you a new one.”

“I can just wear the other one,” she offers, but her face looks like she just bit into a lemon.

“No. Now come on, I want to get to the shop before it closes.”

I take the helmet from her and slip it on her head, adjusting the chin strap before climbing on my bike. I wait for her to climb on behind me, and when she does, there’s no hesitation. She wraps her arms around me and rests her helmet-covered head against my cut.

I rev the engine and take off, keeping the speed low. The Harley shop’s about a thirty-minute ride away, so I take it easy.

After twenty minutes on the road, we hit a red light, and I come to a stop at the intersection, waiting for the lights to change. I slide my hand up and down Amity’s denim-covered thigh. The peace of the afternoon is only broken by the rumble of my engine.

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