He shrugs his shoulders.

“Seeing you and Holly looking at one another like you did this morning, I don’t know. But if you’re looking to make a play for your ex-wife, maybe you hold off until you hit up Colt and get him to give us a heads up on any northbound hauls.”

“I ain’t looking to make a play for Holly,” I grind out.

“Right, then you can pay Colt a visit.”

I don’t like the idea of bringing Colt in on this. Sitting down and pretending we’re one big happy blended family is one thing, grilling him for information when his job is already on the line, is another.

I divert my gaze back to Parrish. “We’ll figure it out and get you the guns in a couple of days. In the meantime, you can start bestowing that wisdom of yours onto me because brother, I need a fucking miracle of my own.”

I need to fall out of love with my ex-wife.

Chapter Seven

Maverick Burnside

Parrish may have kickedcigars and cigarettes from his life, but he was a fan of whiskey. After our meeting closed, he, Linc, King, and Shady took the party to the bar. Parrish called it a working lunch, I called it getting shitfaced before noon. The man is wise for sure, but I can also attest that the rumors are true—he’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal. When he started singing the song “Hallelujah”, I excused myself and left Shady and King to enjoy their live concert.

I took Ghost aside and asked him where we were at with getting a trailer on the compound. He revealed that he had put the call in like I asked and the prospects were already working on cleaning out the yard. With that ball in motion, it was time to send another one spinning. Time wasn’t on our side and I needed to figure out how I was going to transport the guns which meant I had to pay Colt a visit and press him for information on Fat Cat’s upcoming fleets. But that ain’t something I planned on doing with Holly around. She’d fucking hang me by the balls if she knew I was plotting to coerce her husband into giving me the intel I need to distribute a truckload of illegal firearms.

So I told Ghost to tail her and the second she left to pick the kids up from school, he called. I hightailed it out of the clubhouse and now, here I am, parked across from Colt and Holly’s, trying to figure out how the fuck I’m going to get Mr. Squeaky Clean talking.

My phone rings inside my pocket.

Boots on the ground, I balance my bike between my thighs and reach into my kutte for my phone. I glance at the screen before my gaze slides across the street.

I swear to Christ it’s like the woman can fucking smell me or something.

Swiping my thumb across the screen, I lift the phone to my ear.

“Yeah, baby,” I greet gruffly.

“I deposited the cash and called the bank,” Holly says into the line.

“Good.”

“Spoke with Colt too, didn’t tell him about the money, though. Just that you were coming by because you wanted to discuss something.”

My gaze shoots to Colt’s pick-up parked in the driveway.

“All right, so don’t mention the money. Got it.”

I’m not the kind of guy who likes lying. I give it to you straight and if you can’t handle it, well, fuck you. But this is different.

My loyalty rests with Holly.

Always Holly.

She’s the one who has to lay her head on the pillow next to Colt’s, not me.

I cringe at that and shake the thought from my head.

“Anything else?” I clip as I dismount, throwing a leg over my bike.

Leaning against my Harley, I pluck the aviators from my face and tuck them into the neckline of my tee. I’m about to cross the street when Holly continues.

“You feel like having Chinese for dinner? I figured we’d order.”