Page 38 of Property of Fox

“Ah, Mary? She’s my rock. Raised me right even with all my screw-ups," he replies, his tone dropping to something soft and sincere. "Always made sure I knew how to cook before letting me loose on my own. She would say, ‘If you can’t feed yourself, you might end up in trouble.’”

“And yet, you ended up in a motorcycle club.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I just sort of stumbled into it.”

“How does someone accidentally join a motorcycle club?”

“It was a series of events that led me to it. I have a college degree, a steady job in construction, and now the club.”

"But why the club?" I press, intrigued. "What drew you in?"

Fox pauses, looking up at the moon peeking through the trees. “You know that feeling when you find something that just fits? Like finding the perfect pair of boots that make you feel like you could take on the world? The club is like that for me. It gives me a sense of belonging. Brotherhood. Plus, I get to ride motorcycles. Not to mention the bike attracts the ladies.” He grins, and it lights up his face, revealing a boyish charm that makes my heart flutter.

I fight the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, feeling the warmth creep up my cheeks. I didn’t even know he was a biker, and he was able to ensnare me. “So, you’re in it for the bikes and a little...fun?”

“Pretty much,” he responds with a wink, taking a step closer, his presence radiating an undeniable energy. “But it goes deeper than that. It’s about loyalty. We’ve got each other’s backs, and I like knowing I’m part of something bigger than myself.”

“I can tell,” I comment, wincing as my feet throb with pain. I accidentally jostle Fox's side as we walk.

"You really have a tendency to fall into me," he chuckles. "Just take off the shoes."

"Here? In the middle of the park?" As much as I despise these heels, the idea of stepping on something is enough to make me stay in them. "I'll manage."

"No, you won't. I can see you trying to hide your discomfort while we walk. Take them off."

"But how will I walk back to the truck?"

"I'll carry you."

The absurdity of his proposition makes me laugh. “You’ll carry me?”

“Of course, I will,” he responds immediately. “Do you think I'd miss the chance to have my hands on you again? Our encounter in my hotel room earlier was just the start. I have plans for your body, baby.”

“Like where you’re going to hide it?” I joke, trying to hide my nervousness at the thought of more than just kissing him again.

He wraps his arms around me, his strong body pressed tightly against mine. "I know plenty of places to hide bodies," he whispers in my ear, "but, the plans I have for yours is far more exciting, baby.”

My breath hitches. Every fiber of my being is telling me to run, yet here I am, standing still as Fox’s energy envelops me.

“Okay,” I whisper, and just like that, it feels as though we’ve crossed an invisible line. One neither of us can go back from. Fox leans down. His hands travel down my naked thighs down to my feet. He unbuckles the thin straps at my ankles with expertise before helping me step out of the heels. Fox rises from his position, depositing my heels into my hands.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

“Good,” Fox grins, a devil-may-care smile that flickers like firelight in his brown eyes. He bends down slightly, hands sliding under my thighs as he lifts me effortlessly into his arms. My heart pounds in my chest—not out of fear but exhilaration.

"Damn it, Fox," I stammer. "You really are going to carry me."

The world tilts as I find myself enveloped in his embrace, the warmth of him radiating through my clothes. My sternum presses against the hard muscles of his chest while I cling to him instinctively, feeling secure. “Hold on tight,” he says cheekily before taking off toward the truck.

I bury my face into the crook of Fox's neck, inhaling deeply. “This is ridiculous,” I protest lightly as we reach where he's parked.

“I get called ridiculous often.” His voice rumbles below me like thunder.

I can’t help but giggle again, the sound bubbling up in a way that surprises even me. He keeps striding forward, each step making it feel like I’m floating instead of being carried.

As we reach the truck, he releases on arm and my legs swing while Fox struggles to pull open the door. With an exasperated sigh that somehow only adds to his charm, he manages finally to wrestle it free and swing the passenger door wide.

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