Page 20 of Mensa's Match

He ignored the sarcasm in Har’s tone. “We’ll be out of here in less than ten hours. It’s not a big deal.”

Har chuckled. “That’s one way of looking at it. Drop by my shop with her in the morning. Gamble will be there and Finn’s been bringing Riley in every morning. We’ll figure shit out then.”

A strange sense of possessiveness came over him. He didn’t want to hand Whitney off to Har, Finn, or Gamble. For some bizarre reason, he wanted to see that Whitney got into her apartment safe.

“You still there?” Har asked.

“Yeah. I don’t want to rope any other brothers into this shit. Bad enough I had Block check her apartment complex.”

“You know better than that, Mensa. We’re a brotherhood. Hell, you can take her home, but as often as you’ve mentioned not trusting her and disliking her…I figured this would make shit easier.”

“I appreciate that, Prez.”

“Something about that doesn’t sound right…almost sounds like you care about her.”

He gave a humorless chuckle. “No, Har. Just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“For both of you, I’d say.”

“I wouldn’t. I don’t know why Rod threatened Dontrell, but that man doesn’t deserve whatever Corrupt Chrome is doin’ to him.”

“You want to wade in on that, too,” Har surmised.

The sound of the shower distracted him for a moment. “If Dontrell doesn’t lose his mind, yeah.”

“We’ll need to have church.”

“Make it in the evening so I can get more info from him.”

The shower cut off a moment before Har hummed in agreement. “You got it. Also gives you time to get some sleep. My guess, you won’t get much sleep tonight in the same room as ‘that woman.’ That’s what you call her, right?”

He rolled his eyes at himself. He never should have made his feelings about Whitney so widely known. “Yeah, and she’ll be back in the room soon, so I’ll text you in the morning.”

He tucked his cell away. The toothbrush laying next to his favorite candy on the credenza caught his eye. He wandered closer to the bathroom. “Did you forget your toothbrush?”

“No, that’s for you,” Whitney called back.

She was thoughtful.

“Thanks,” he called.

“You’re welcome.”

She was making it hard to dislike her.

She opened the door, and padded out with a her hair twisted up in a towel. To his surprise, she wore an over-sized shirt that hung to her mid-thigh. The design on the shirt made it look like she was a cartoon character in a red, polka-dot bikini.

The fuck?He did a double take. “Did you get that at the—”

“Truck stop? Yes. You’d be surprised what you can find at a high-traffic truck stop – if you’re willing to pay their prices.”

Her bra hung from her fingers and he blinked – willing himself to forget that she was braless.

He focused on her baby-blues. “Did you getmeany pajamas?”

She tilted her head. “No. I wasn’t sure of your size.”

He arched a brow. “It wasn’t in your FBI file on me?”

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