Page 44 of Insidious Heart
Cal’s truck is in the driveway.
He’s still at my little dove’s house, which is both a good and a bad thing.
It’s good because she clearly got home safely and I don’t need to worry about that anymore, and it also means Cal is the only bouncer I have to consider when I sneak in.
Which is why it’s a bad thing as well.
The prospects that have been on her house are morons and the only reason they create a cause for concern is the fact that there are more than a couple of them. Too many morons lingering around could present as problematic, even though they haven’t yet for me. Cal riding solo on the other hand… that could definitely be risky.
There’s a reason he’s sergeant at arms, a reason why Beau trusts him with his daughter as well as all the other shit he does for the club, and that reason could definitely get me busted and most likely killed, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I haven’t been able to see Stevie since Friday, not in the way I want to, and the newly realized fact she could become one of The Ripper’s targets has sent my need to do so into a dangerous territory.
Which is why I drive past the house, turn down the next block, and park my ride in the vacant lot again. I give it a minute before I get out, making sure no one is around to watch me cross over to the empty house, and when I’m sure it’s clear, I do just that.
I crouch behind the bushes again and watch the front door; watch Cal’s truck and the entire street for any signs of life. There’s nothing though, so I’m assuming this deceptively quiet neighborhood is actually quiet for once, Sunday calling for everyone to stay inside and indulge in the day of rest.
With calculated movements, I dart across the street then duck down on the driver’s side of the Ram, waiting a few beats to make sure I wasn’t noticed. I don’t hear anything though, definitely don’t hear the front door of Stevie’s house open, so I stay crouched and move to the front of Cal’s truck then run along the side of the house until I’m between that and the garage. I stop and listen again, the backyard totally silent, so I turn the corner and jog to the stupid fucking trellis that I’m going to have to replace if I keep using it as a means of getting inside.
I scale it quickly then curse my dumbass for locking Stevie’s window when I left earlier, but I wanted her to be safe; and since I had to use the back door to get everything in and out of her house, I didn’t leave through the window when I was done.
So, I hang onto the bowing wood with one hand, reach down to my boot with the other, and pull my knife out to use in order to get her attention, only to pause briefly when I peer in through the window.
She found my gift.
And judging by the stunning smile on her face, Stevie likes my ironically adorable little present a hell of a lot.
CHAPTERTEN
STEVIE
I swallowhard as thescratch tap tap tap scratchhappens again, then slowly turn toward my window.
I hold my breath and wait for it a third time, but instead of that sound, I hear something similar to a twig snapping followed by a soft thud. The scratching and tapping becomes a little more urgent as I walk toward the window, but as soon as thick dark brown curls and piercing gray and indigo eyes come into view, I sigh in relief.
My ghost is back.
Quickly reaching the sill, I pop the lock and slide the pane open. “What are you doing here?” Not that I want him to leave, but still. It’s barely seven o’clock and this is dangerous as hell. “What are… you…”
One big hand—a hand holding a knife—lands on the sill before the other joins it and the majority of the mysterious man’s torso is in my bedroom. He swings his right leg through the opening with a grunt, his booted foot now planted firmly on the ground in front of me.
I back up a little to make room for him. “What are you doing—”
Before I’m too far away or able to ask anymore questions, my own personal ghost is cupping my cheeks, knife and all, and crushing his mouth to mine.
And all I can do is kiss him back.
His lips are so soft, a stark contrast to everything else about him, from the hard lines and edges of his body that I only saw from the back Friday night to the hardass way he dresses. The calluses on his hands are rough against my skin, rough but warm, and for a split second I think about how they felt on my naked thighs.
Heat floods my veins as his tongue traces the seam of my lips, a sweet demand for entrance that I gladly give into.
He tastes like mint and something sweet, a little beer with just a hint of the cigarette he must have recently smoked, and for some reason that combination has my panties wet.
Ha, for some reason.
I grip the collar of his jacket and pull him closer, tugging this mystery man to me while I deepen the kiss even further. His fingers slide up into my hair and he groans as I match his urgency with my own. I kiss this man so hard, so intensely that our teeth clash, but I don’t stop or slow down. If anything it drives me to keep doing it, but when I suck on his tongue then nip at his lower lip, he abruptly stops.
Neither of us let go of each other but I search his eyes when they bore into mine. “Why… why did you—”
“You amaze me.”
