Page 32 of A Christmas Surprise for the Biker

We’ve got work to do.

“Brae,” I murmur, gently running my hand over her shoulder. “Time to get up, baby.”

She stirs, those hazel eyes blinking open. “Already?”

“Yeah. We need to see Dex.”

She nods, instantly alert.

That's one of the things I admire about her—how quickly she can switch gears.

Brae stretches her arms over her head and the tee she’s wearing rises. She giggles, and my eyes snap up. “You have a one-track mind, babe.”

“You can hardly blame me. Look at you.”

Her cheeks turn pink.

“I need to get Ry up and fed if we’re going to get to the clubhouse on time.”

I blow out a breath. She’s right.

“Later,” I promise, dropping a kiss on her smiling lips before climbing out of bed.

In no time, we're heading to the clubhouse, Ryder secure in his carrier.

The compound is quiet when we arrive, but I know Dex will be up. The man is nocturnal when he's working on something.

I lead Brae down the stairs to Dex’s lair, noting the look on her face when we get to the vault door. “Wow.”

I chuckle as I look up to the security camera aimed at us and give it two middle fingers.

“What are you—” Before she can finish her question, the click of the door unlocking cuts her off.

“You guys are so strange,” Brae mumbles under her breath.

I chuckle and push open the door. Brae follows me inside, and I watch her reaction. Dex’s domain is quite the sight to see.

The concrete cavern is reinforced with steel. A catwalk-like platform takes up the entire back wall and is lined with monitors.

“This is impressive.” Brae looks up at me, her brows lifted.

It is.

“Just don’t touch anything.” I squeeze her hand gently to soften the warning. Dex is particular about his things.

Leading her up the steps, we find Dex at his desk surrounded by empty energy drink cans.

“Dex.”

He swivels in his chair, bloodshot eyes focusing on us.

“Legend, Braelynn,” he greets, his voice rough, no doubt from the lack of sleep. “What are you guys doing here at the ass-crack of dawn?”

I exchange a glance with Braelynn before speaking. “It’s ten.”

Dex's eyebrows shoot up. “Shit. Time got away from me.” He spins back around and sweeps his arm across his workspace, sending all the trash into a bin at the edge of his desk.

That’s convenient.

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