Page 30 of Worth the Heat
Checking my photos, I find the name of the guy who attacked Isabella in her apartment. Googling known connections, I see if Devon has any connections to Trey or Rico/Diego. When nothing comes up, I don’t know if I feel relieved or restless. In my gut, I know there’s a correlation. Maybe it’s not the dastardly intentions my mind keeps thinking up, but I know it’s something.
As the men finish up their tour, I get a notification from one of the outdoor security cameras that motion has been detected between the Clubhouse and my property. Assuming it’s an animal of some sort, I nonchalantly open my security app and do a double take when I see Isabella walking with my grandmother. Isabella seems to be carrying something, and their direction suggests they are heading toward the Clubhouse.
I make it to the front door at the same time as the women, butI hear whispered conversations behind me coming from Trey and Rico. Fuck.
“Mojo, Isabella made you something,”Abuelasays proudly as she waves to all the men. My grandmother loves hanging out in the Clubhouse with the guys. They all call herAbuela, and she preens with joy every time. She waves at me with a wicked glint in her eye as she turns around to walk back to my house. It’s only around one-eighth of a mile, but a quick glance toward one of my men, and he immediately follows her to ensure she makes it back in one piece.
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Isabella says hastily, her eyes darting in every direction, “butAbuelasaid I should bring these while they were warm and fresh.”
“My boys must eat them while hot,”Abuelaannounces, turning her head to look at us, and I hear more than one snicker. I’ve never been able to confirm ifAbuelaconsciously chooses to make most of her statements sound overtly sexual, or if it’s coincidental how her mind translates the words, but my guys absolutely love what she says.
“Did you know Prez had a woman?” I hear whispered.
Shit. Leaning into Isabella’s space, I whisper against her ear, “I need you to pretend we’re together, please.”
“What?” she breathes.
“Act like you like me. Put your arms around me,” I tell her as I grab the platter of pastries that smell divine, then slide one arm around her back, pulling her against me. Isabella’s arms come around my waist hesitantly, but within a few seconds she snuggles into my embrace. She smells like vanilla, sugar, and sunshine. “Agree with whatever I say for the next few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” she says softly, and the feel of her warm breath against my neck is exquisite. I forcibly tense to fight the shiver that threatens to course down my spine as I step away from Isabella, grabbing her hand.
“Range Riders,” I state clearly.
“Hooah,” they shout, jolting Isabella against me, before she giggles.
“What did they just say?” she murmurs.
“Hooah. It’s like a battle cry,” I explain quietly, before straightening to peer at my men. “This is Isabella. She’s staying in my home, and is to be respected at all times. She’s off-limits.”
“Is she yours?” someone shouts.
Turning to look down at the beautiful woman beside me, she gives me a sweet smile that is so full of trust, I’m momentarily speechless. Her eyes, so full of innocence and longing, tell me she’s falling for me as quickly as I’ve already fallen for her. For a long second, I have a vision of our future. Isabella holding a baby to her chest as she watches Camila playing in the backyard at sunset. Her arms wrapped around me while riding my motorcycle on a rare date without our children. Isabella formally adopting Camila. Holding my woman as I fill her, watching her come as she’s wrapped around me.
I know with every fiber of my being that Isabella is meant to be mine, and I don’t care who knows.
“Fuck yeah, she’s mine,” I murmur as I slide one hand into her hair and bend down to press my lips against hers. I feel her shocked intake of breath before she sighs against my mouth, and she melts against me.
This isn’t a sensual kiss. It isn’t erotic in nature. It’s a man claiming a woman. A possessive, territorial, non-sexual kiss with no tongue and barely any lip movement.
But it’s withher, and it’s the best fucking kiss of my life.
Breaking apart, I look down at Isabella as pink floods her cheeks. She buries her face against my shoulder, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I worry about whether or not I overstepped. I’ve been so careful around her, thinking aboutrespecting her boundaries. Leaning down, I say quietly, “I can’t tell if you’re embarrassed, or regretting agreeing to this.”
“I’m not entirely sure I know what ‘this’ is, Sebastian,” she confesses as her eyes find mine.
“This is me protecting you, and I’ll explain why in a few minutes. Okay?”
She gives me a nod, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her eyes dart around the space. When her eyes land on Rico and Trey, I notice a subtle widening. I turn us so she isn’t visible to the potential recruits, pulling her against me again. “What’s wrong?”
“The shorter one has been into the bakery twice this week,” she whispers. “Never stayed long, but I found it odd. I’ve never seen him before, and suddenly he’s there twice in the same week?”
Fuck.
There’s no way these coincidences aren’t related. Now I know I need to dig deeper into Isabella’s ex-boyfriend and any potential ties toLa Milla Roja.
“Prez, I’m gonna walk them out,” Luke says, and I look over my shoulder to see him ambling over with Trey and Rico.
“Hey,” Rico says, staring intently at Isabella. “I know you. You work at that awesome bakery in Eternity Springs.”
