Page 32 of Decoding Morse

This woman and her goddamn heart.

“Except you.”

“Except me.” Her sweet smile tugged on every one of my goddamn heartstrings.

“And you’re sure she’ll grant me an audience?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be over the moon about it. I’ll call and inform her of the change.”

I huffed out a breath, well and truly beaten. “Okay.” I was a sucker, but there it was. At least I’d get rewarded with Amelia’s cooking for my trouble. “I’ll need the address.”

Her face lit up. She shoved the chair between us out of the way and tackled me in a hug, once again assaulting me with goddamn rainbows and wildflowers.

Fuck.

None of this was going as anticipated. My cock stirred, and I had to pull away and think about baseball.

“I need to get back to work,” I said, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.

What I really needed was to figure out this mystery and send her home before I forgot why she could never be mine.

Her expression slipped a tiny bit, but she nodded and let me walk her back to her room. Then, rather than returning to the security room, I barged through Link’s open office door, too distracted by my thoughts and plans to realize Specks was seated in front of Link’s desk until I’d already interrupted their conversation. The club’s treasurer wasn’t the only one in attendance. Movement on the other side of him drew my attention to an unfamiliar face attached to a just-out-of-the-service buzz cut.

Lead filled my stomach. The many thoughts racing through my mind tripped and face-planted as I homed in on the interloper. Early twenties, dark hair, and curious, dark eyes that told me nothing about his character.

And he was wearing a goddamn club cut.

I knew nothing about this bastard. How was he even in here? Why weren’t security protocols being followed?

“Morse.” Link sounded… less than thrilled to see me. “What can I do for you?”

My attention didn’t waver from the stranger. “We have a new prospect?” Was I fired? Was Link releasing me from my position?

What. The. Fuck?

The prez leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his chest. “Specks, Prospect, give us the room.”

Prospect. That’s what he’d go by now until he earned his road name and patched in. And I knew nothing about him.

Prospect and Specks hurried out, closing the door behind them. Link gestured for me to sit. As I did, he circled his desk and collapsed into his chair.

“I’m supposed to personally vet every potential brother.” That was what we’d agreed when he’d made me the head of security. This was my goddamn job.

“You’ve been busy. Tap screened him.”

Then Tap was a motherfucking traitor. The bastard thought he could edge his way into my duties, did he?

Wait until the next time I see his ass….

Link’s eyes narrowed like he could read my thoughts. “I gave him an order. You got a problem, it’s with me. You have enough on your plate right now, and I thought you’d welcome the help. Tap is every bit as qualified at scrutinizing a background as you are. You fuckin’ trained him, for crying out loud, so don’t look at me like that.”

Authority figures made my skin crawl. Link and I often butted heads because he didn’t like to be questioned, and I would never follow anyone blindly. Still, the club was home, the first place I’d ever been free to say and do what I pleased. Theprez hadn’t just hired me; he’d created a position where my paranoia would be useful.

He'd earned my respect. I couldn’t overreact, so I bit down hard on my tongue to keep myself in check.

“Now, what’d you come barging in here for?” he asked. “Any news about the hit on Amelia?”

“No. There’s been some suspicious activity at her house, though.”

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