Page 240 of Fearless

“At the clubhouse. RJ’s keeping him company.”

Behind him, the back door opened. It was Jackie. “Baby, we ready to go?”

“Yeah, honey,” Collier called, and she came out onto the patio, pie plate held against her chest.

“Thanks for coming,” Ghost told her, and she nodded. In the dark, he could just see that lingering note of fear in her eyes. Then he pegged Collier with a look that dared the VP to do something stupid again. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

They’d come to a rough understanding, in the hayloft of Richard’s old cattle barn. Collier’s sins would be dealt with once all of this was past. Ghost had too many enemies – too many devils in every corner – to be without his vice president and longtime friend. He didn’t doubt Collier’s loyalty to the club, even if that loyalty had been manifested in a dishonest way. There would be a table full of brothers to answer to, but not now. Now, they had shit to do.

“Right,” Collier said, “first thing.”

His heartbeat was strong. She measured it with her hand pressed to the tattoo of her teeth on his chest. Thick, hard punches against her palm as he struggled to get his breath back, his pecs heaving. Healthy, she reassured herself. No infection, no fever. Healthy, strong, steady, nothing wrong.

She loved his pulse for another reason too. She loved that it thundered through his skin when he was inside her, and after, like now, when she rested her head on his arm in the aftermath. She loved that it was reflective of his urgency, his intensity, the fervor of the way he’d claimed her.

She felt his breath in her hair as he rolled his head toward her. “You okay?”

It took her a second to find her voice. “Yeah.” She wiggled her fingertips against his chest. “I’m okay.”

“You made this…sound…”

“Did I?” It was hard to stay awake, her eyelids flickering. “I don’t remember.”

“It was a good sound.”

“Mmm. Good.”

He kissed her forehead, his lips moving slowly. She had the sense he wanted to mount her again, the intention she felt pulsing through him. But they were both too tired, and he knew it.

“Tomorrow,” he said with a sigh.

“Tomorrow what?”

“We’ll go see Dee. Tomorrow.”

Thank you, she thought, and then sleep took hold.

Forty-Four

“It’s like I told you. There’s nothing for you to do,” Ghost said, as he stood in the threshold.

Maggie pushed the power button on her computer modem and shrugged out of her jacket, draping it on the back of her chair. “Said the man who doesn’t have to stay up working on the tax returns. There’s always paperwork to do.” She sat and glanced over at him, outlined by morning sunlight in the doorway of her little central office. “And I don’t really want to spend all day home alone. I like Harry, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not exactly a thrilling conversationalist.”

Ghost made a face that was half-grumpy, half-amused.

She sighed. “I want to be busy,” she said, tone gentler. “I want to be able to…do something. I hate feeling helpless.”

He gave her a half-smile. “I know, baby.”

“And this way,” she reasoned, “you can come make sure I’m not dead every ten minutes if you want to.”

His scowl made her want to laugh. He started to walk away, then paused, hand on the doorframe. “You talked to Ava this morning?”

She nodded. “She called me on the drive in. Mercy’s taking her sightseeing today.”

His face worked through a complicated sequence of expressions. His brows lifted. “She’s doing okay?”

“I can’t remember the last time I heard her sound so happy.”