Page 18 of Kaz
“I don’t trust easily,” he said, unsure how to feel when Wilder looked at him without a shred of surprise or judgment. Re-wrapping his sandwich, Miles pushed to his feet and said, “We should get back to it.”
Wilder raised his head, a calculated look in his eyes that Miles thought most people might miss, but he could tell. Wilder wasn’t just muscle. Not at all. There was much more behind that pretty face and big muscles, which was probably why he wore a patch declaring him the VP.
“All I’m asking for is a chance,” Wilder said, cocking a brow at Miles. “What do you have to lose?”
What did he have to lose?
Everything.
But he could alsogaineverything.
“I’m glad you’re here, Miles, and not just because you’re helping put this place back together,” Wilder said and turned to walk back through the house, leaving Miles staring at his broad back, wondering if coming to New Freedom would end up being his biggest mistake or a new beginning.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kaz
HE BLINKED at the screen, the numbers floating around in front of him. The noise from the renovation wasn’t helping either. Not that he would complain about it. Miles was working for free, and while he didn’t know his going rate, he was pretty sure he couldn’t afford him. Miles’s expertise was the only reason no one objected to letting Miles stay and work with them.
He pushed away from his desk with a groan and stood, rubbing a hand down his face. They needed to appoint a treasurer, so he didn’t have to do two jobs. It was more than enough to try and keep the younger members alive. He had to coordinate their less-than-legal business while also looking at spaces for sale in New Freedom to set up legal businesses that could keep the club running.
His makeshift office above the garage consisted mostly of unopened moving boxes, though he did have two desks set up, both with a working computer. The space was unfinished, but the house needed to be fixed up a lot more than the office needed drywall, so those renovations took precedence.
He headed down the stairs, noting that the noise of power tools had ceased. He walked outside, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, and found most of the others gathered on the front porch, listening to Miles. He had blueprints nailed to the wall of the house, a long list of things that needed fixing hanging next to it.
He couldn’t hear what Miles said, but something warm spread through him as he ran his gaze over his brothers and sisters, all watching and listening to Miles with rapt attention. Even the twins, who seemed to have remained in one piece so far.
He returned his gaze to Miles. There was a quiet strength in Miles that he’d always admired. His confidence had grown with time, and the man he was watching now was much more comfortable in his own skin than his nineteen-year-old self had been. It only made him want the man that much more.
He wanted to know how that confidence translated to the bedroom. He wanted to experience everything with Miles anew. He wanted to touch every inch of him. Relearn what made him tremble. How to make him lose control.
But he couldn’t. Not yet.
No matter how often he reminded himself to give Miles time, to earn back his trust before he let anything happen between them, it didn’t diminish how much he craved the man’s touch. It only made the need burn hotter.
Amber eyes snapped toward him, and he lost the ability to think. There was something unreadable in Miles’s gaze, and as much as he wanted to find out what it meant, he wouldn’t. He had to ignore that pull inside him that wanted him to go to Miles and bug him until Miles either exploded or told him what was wrong.
He jerked his gaze away from Miles, swallowing back a curse. He needed to get a hold of himself before he lost the plot and did something stupid like kiss Miles.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
Miles said a few more words and then everyone dispersed, some heading inside while others went to their bikes. Kaz crossed the parking lot, moving toward Miles despite himself.
Killian stepped right into his path, halting him, and making him unsure whether he wanted to thank him or deck him. Before Killian could speak, the sound of wheels on gravel had them both jerking their attention toward the driveway.
His pulse jumped.
They weren’t expecting anyone.
Black cars pulled up, one sedan and three SUVs. The men stepping out of the vehicles all wore dark, tailored suits. They had a dark and menacing air around them, their backs straight and their expressions blank. Mob, if he had to guess.
“I thought you did a thorough check on the town?” he said to Killian, keeping his voice low.
“I did. These mofos ain’t from New Freedom. There’s been zero chatter about a mafia presence here.”
A grunt was all Kaz gave Killian in response, keeping his eyes trained on the men in their driveway. One of the suits walked to the back of the sedan?a Mercedes?and opened the back door. A man in a pristine charcoal suit stepped out. He had sun-kissed skin, short black hair, and gray eyes he ran slowly over Kaz and his brothers and sisters.
The suit started toward Kaz, his goons following close behind him. He didn’t have to look to know they were all carrying, but he still took a quick inventory. They were pretty evenly matched in people and firepower. It didn’t ease the tension in his body whatsoever.
