Page 31 of Collect the Pieces

“Of course. Not a problem.”

He interlaces his hands in front of him. “And you were here when the police stopped by as well, right?”

Oh fuck.Is he really going to grill me about spending the night with his twenty-eight-year-old daughter?

When I don’t answer fast enough, he scoffs. “Do you think I haven’t noticed your bike parked outside all this time? You do a good job tucking it close to the house, but it’s not invisible.” He cocks his head, leveling me with another give-me-a-break stare. “And it’s certainly not quiet.”

Heat creeps up my neck. Am Iblushingover my girlfriend’s dad busting me for sleeping over?

“Are you good to my daughter?” he asks, not waiting for me to deny the obvious.

Except for ticking her off with my overbearing ways.“I try to be, sir.”She’s stubborn, though.

He studies me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You seem to respect what she does.” He gestures toward the house. “Whatwedo here.”

“Yes, I do.”

“It doesn’tscareyou?” he asks.

I glance at the funeral home looming over us. “Uh, not really.”

He lowers his voice to a low, spooky tone. “You’re not worried the house ishaunted?”

I lift my eyebrows. “No. Should I be?”

His jaw tightens. “You’re not weirdlyfascinated?”

A shudder works over me when I realize what he’sreallyasking—do I get my rocks off playing with dead bodies? “Definitely not.”

He chuckles. “I didn’t think so.”

I hope he’s not waiting for me to ask permission to date his daughter.

“The cops who were here earlier, did you speak with them as well?”

I’m already shaking my head by the time he finishes the question. “No. I stayed out of sight. But I tried to overhear as much as I could.”

A knowing smile turns his mouth up, as if he enjoys the thought of me sneaking around and pressing my ear against the door. “And?”

I swallow hard. Is Margot sure her dad doesn’t know she killed that guy? “Uh, they seemed interested in locating one of your clients. Her husband died and I guess they can’t find her. They just asked how well Margot knew her, stuff like that. She handled herself well.”

“Good.” He flicks his gaze toward my bike again, and I can’t shake the feeling he has something heavier on his mind. “If there’s ever anything you, or your club, have questions about, you can just ask me. You know that, right?”

I frown as I puzzle that one out. Is he implying… “Mr. Cedarwood, I’m not with your daughter because my club asked me to spy on her.”Actually, my president specifically asked menotto get involved with her.

He lifts his eyebrows.

I hold his stare, waiting to see if he has more questions.

I’m sure as fuck not telling him I’m in love with his daughter before I say it to her. I’m not even sure my mouth knows how to form the words to expresshowI feel.

After a long beat, he nods. “I’m glad to hear that.”

My jaw twitches. “Are you?”

“I want her to be happy.” He tilts his head and runs his gaze over me. “But you also seem like someone who can keep her…safe.”

From what?

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