Page 74 of Daddy Issues

“God-damn, brother.” He stood and reached for them.

He’d seen her naked. Hell, I’d been in the room when he’d fucked her stupid. But some of these were mine and for my eyes only. I peeled out the one I’d been working on. Instead of naked and begging for it, she was still begging…but wearing a short cropped white t-shirt. I’d used charcoal. And the only thing I’d put color on was her lips. Not quite Cherry Red, but something darker and sexier, much like what she wore tonight.

I handed it to him. “I’m thinking of having the bike airbrushed, been fooling around with that.”

“Fuck, that’s Kenna.” He whistled in appreciation.

“Yeah.”

“That’s about as big as having her face tattooed on you.”

I’d thought about it. There weren’t many people I could be honest with. “With this, I can see it. It won’t be covered up.”

“You talked to her about it?” He handed me the sketch and found his seat again.

“Not yet. I will.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re good together.” He draped one leg over the opposite knee and pulled out his phone. “She’s not like Jess.”

No, she wasn’t. Not even when she was with Eli—she was better than my ex. In all the important ways. And I had to think about that, too. Eli had loved her long before I did. It had killed him to go so long without seeing her. If I fucked this up…

“There’s a lot of shit to consider.”

“Keep telling yourself that, brother, and someone else is going to scoop her up.” He never looked at me, his fingers furiously typing.

“That why you’re here, to give me relationship advice at one in the morning?”

“No.” He dropped his phone in his pocket. “Ghost came through, gave me a time and drop location for Jerry Wayne’s shit. AP wants us on deck tomorrow to do some recon and get shit ready for Ivan and Gunnar to come up. Drop happens day after tomorrow. But he wants us radio silent, just in case someone’s watching.”

Because Jerry Wayne got to people quick, always had. And I had a reason to keep Kenna close. Looks like I’d need a babysitter this weekend.

“Wife that shit up.” He stood, slapped his hand into mine, and squeezed it before heading to the door.

“You’re the second person to tell me that.”

“Who beat me to it?”

“Cam.”

“Then you should listen.”

I was, because they were both right. Kenna deserved to be treated like more than a pass around, even if she deserved more than I could give.

But I damn sure wouldn’t let someone else have her.

She wasmine.

Kenna

Pacing near the front door, watching the clock, waiting on Puck was ridiculous. I was better than that, stronger than that. I wasn’t a damn golden retriever; I was a full grown, independent woman who smelled like strip club, sweat, and Puck. Time to take a damn shower.

The lather of his expensive shower gel was silky, and the scent of bergamot and sandalwood soothed me, leaving me warm and thinking of him all over again. But in a different way, one that left my chest tight.

I’d literally just had the best sex of my life. I was lighter, happier than I had been in forever. David had brought the money back to me. I had a place to live, a job. Puck. Jesus, I was actively fucking Puck Kelly. But it was something more, the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me.

He’d killed for me.

Drying my hair in the bathroom, I stopped and held my breath, waiting for that little voice in my head to tell me how all this could go wrong, how I would fuck it up.

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