Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Lyric was observant. Very. If Keys was close by, she focused on him. It was one of the things he particularly loved about her. She was intensely passionate. She gave him whatever he wanted. She was utterly about him and yet completely her own person. She was intelligent and stubborn as hell when she felt strongly about something. The bottom line was Lyric had noticed something was off and had waited for him to tell her about it. She might have let it go, but now he was not just asking, he was telling her she had to go to the compound and he wasn’t going to be with her.
“We’ll talk about it on the way.”
She was Lyric, so she didn’t fight him. She might be stubborn but she was practical, and she knew he meant what he said this time. There was no argument that was going to change his mind. She slipped into the passenger seat and snapped on her seat belt without being prompted. Her lips were set in that pouty little bow he found irresistible. He kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. It was the only safe thing to do.
“What did you think was going on, Lyric? Torpedo Ink threw a huge community party for the opening of your salon. I know your appointment book is completely filled for the next two months.”
“You always pay attention to me. Always, Keys. It doesn’t matter if you’re next to me or a football field away. You keep your eye on me. You didn’t.”
“Were you uncomfortable? You didn’t reach out to me.” He had to tread very carefully. He wasn’t going to lie to her. He’d promised himself and her that wouldn’t happen.
A smile flirted with her mouth, deepening her dimple briefly. “You’re so good at it, Keys.”
He glanced at her, one eyebrow lifting. “Good at it?”
“Bullshit. You’re very, very good at bullshit.”
He scowled as he turned his gaze back to the road. “You have a mouth on you, woman.”
“Maybe you’d better explain to me what was going on. I’m not stupid, Keys.”
He didn’t like that she might believe he thought that of her. “You’re my number one priority, Lyric. Always,” he said. Meaning it.
“I believe that. It doesn’t explain what was going on.”
“You’re family to Torpedo Ink. It doesn’t matter that they barely know you: you’re mine. That makes you family. Before anything else we do, we remove all threats to our women, our children and the club. Declan and his boys threatened you. They made their move against you. That was a declaration of war, and we take that seriously. Suffice it to say, the threat to you has been removed. We don’t need any further discussion on the subject.”
She was silent for a long time. The high fence around the compound loomed in front of them before she answered. “I don’t know how you pulled it off, but it had something to do with Player, Blythe and Zyah.”
“Wildfire. I love you. I do. But this is something we never talk about. As far as the world knows and will always know, we were having a great time in the streets of Caspar celebrating the opening of your salon.”
He put the truck in park and jumped out, catching up her backpack before rounding the hood of the truck to open the door for her.
Lyric slid off the seat, taking a little jump to land on her feet. Keys hid a smile. He held out his hand to her. When he walked with her, he wanted to be holding her hand. Connecting them together. Letting the world know she was with him, and he was proud of her. Proud to be the man she’d chosen.
It was odd to feel so strongly about something so simple as holding her hand. Doing so tied up one of his weapons. That meant it wasn’t the most intelligent of moves when it came to security. He was confident enough in his abilities to protect her to make the decision to stop living his entire life based on security precautions.
Keys was grateful to see that Seychelle and Anya were already in the large common room. The two were seated in the grouping of chairs that allowed conversations when there was a large crowd. He guided Lyric straight to the two women and waited for her to sink into the chair closest to Seychelle before crouching down beside her.
“I’ll put your things in the room I use when I’m here.”
Lyric tilted her head to look up at him. “You have a room here?”
Inwardly, he winced. Yeah, he had a room. It had been thoroughly cleaned when he’d purchased his house, but like the others, he’d kept it. Lyric had a strong sense of smell, and it was possible she would detect the presence of another woman who had been there before her. He touched wood and could get information. He didn’t discount the possibility that Lyric would see, smell and feel too much in that room. He changed gears abruptly.