Page 29 of Savage Daddies

He can’t seem to control his features today.

And it makes sense. The guys go back years. If Paul has any trouble in the casino, he phones Grizzly who sends a fleet of us his way to eliminate any chaos. In return, Paul ensures our names stay out of as many mouths as possible so we remain under the radar.

“Did you see what was in the envelope?”

Straight-faced, Grizzly slips the thing from beneath his leather jacket. The seal has already been torn, but he smooths his hands over the paper to build audience anticipation. Most of us aren’t here, the majority already out completing other things, but the eight of us present in the room all sit forward like Grizzly’s about to reveal the most shocking information.

He dips his hand inside, and pulls out money.

There are enough dollar bills in there to fucking retire.

He fans it out in his hands, displaying buck after buck.

“Half a million.” Grizzly flattens his lips. “I counted myself. I managed to pickpocket the guy as he was heading to the casino’s exit.”

“What’s Paul handing over half a fucking million dollars to Felix for?” Wrangler frowns.

Grizzly shrugs his broad shoulders. “You three find out for me. It appears you’ve taken it upon yourself to have a day off.”

I don’t know what we were doing with our morning, really. Drinking stout and putting pool balls doesn’t hit the same as before. I missed several balls, and the beer tasted too bitter.

I swing my leather jacket around my shoulders and mount the bike. Sandwiched between the other two, I waggle my eyes at each of them.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Too long,” Bullwhip says. “We need to busy our minds again.”

“Conflict of interest?” Wrangler says, leaning over the handlebars to look at him. “You’re a fan of Felix Fernando, aren’t you, Bully?”

“Admirer of his work,” says Bullwhip, face unsmiling. “There’s a difference.”

He switched up pretty quick yesterday, the second Zoe dropped the news about her and Felix’s marriage.

A ring on my finger is all it is.

God, that woman’s gonna get me in trouble.

She’ll get too close and see me for what I am—boring Mr. Reeves. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s still in there. The leather and the Harley and the tanned skin covers that up, gives me bad-boy vibes, but that Shakespearean-obsessed divorcé still lives somewhere inside of me, and Zoe can’t get too close—she, like Trudy, will realize how fucking boring I am and then she’ll leave too.

And I don’t know, something about that feels worse.

She only finds me attractive because I have genes inherited from a supermodel.God rest you, Mom.That’s the issue in today’s society—appearance trumps personality, for better or for worse.

But what am I saying? Zoe’s out of bounds. She was a student. Past, present, or future, it doesn’t matter, and it makes no difference. I taught her. Professional boundaries were placed between us, and they should remain.

But the tease blurred those boundaries last night the second her hand touched my groin.

Wind builds, whistling through the expanse as we build speed. I duck behind the glass screen as sand particles spit everywhere. The leather jacket lapels flap in the breeze—the same ones Zoe wrapped her hands around last night.

It’s rare I carry passengers. The only time I do is if it’s another one of the boys when we’re limited on bikes.

I still see Zoe’s freckled face in the rearview from last night.

She’s a changed woman, but even though the rigid pantsuit material stiffened her body some, time hasn’t altered her smile.

And that relieves me.

She’s still in there.

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