Page 138 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
“Ryan?” Reba queries back, giving me a look. I lift a single finger to my lips, so she doesn’t spill the beans. If she tells Sin that her cousin wears a promise ring and is ‘waiting until marriage’ then I won’t hear the end of it. “Well, shoot. You’re gonna go real slow, right? Slow enough for Fem?”
“Slow enough for Fem,” Sin promises, and I watch with a huge grin as my best friend climbs onto Sin’s bike, throws her arms around his waist, and squeezes her eyes shut so tight that her entire face wrinkles up. He revs the engine once and she shrieks while he chuckles. “Okay, sorry. I won’t do that again.”
Sin takes off at as slow a pace as he can manage, winding up the road that leads deeper into the compound, one that I’ve never been on before.
“Technically, you shouldn’t be riding with me,” Crown says, watching as they disappear into the trees. Fem is still hanging out with us, reluctant to leave me but also desperate to follow after Reba. I stroke one of his triangular ears as I watch the play of emotions on the VP’s face.
“Technically, I shouldn’t have stolen your last bike and crashed it. Life doesn’t run on technicalities, Calder.” I climb on behind him, but the way I wrap my arms around his waist isn’t chaste and routine the way it was with Reba and Sin. No, this is more. A hug. A caress. A melding of bodies. “Thank you again, by the way,” I add before he can say anything to ruin this moment (which he’s certainly wont to do). “This is therapeutic for me, seeing your new bike. Letting you take me for a ride.”
Crown says nothing, but I can feel his body expand with a deep breath before he hits the kickstand and off we go.
Fem enjoys the journey, jogging alongside the road with his three legs and still somehow managing to keep up with us. The road is winding, but Fem cuts through the trees, running in more or less a straight line.
I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of the woods, Crown’s suede and violet musk, and the grittiness of leather and motor oil. My most favorite scents. My most hated scents. All at the same time.
I’m not expecting to see a yellow farmhouse with a wraparound porch waiting for us at the end of the road. Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting, but this … isn’t it.
As soon as I see it, I know I’m going to have problems here.
Crown parks his bike next to Sin’s, waiting for me to climb off before he joins me. Fem hops up to us, panting happily until he gets close to Crown. He bares his teeth and I snap my fingers to shut him down.
“What is this?” I choke out and Crown pauses, glancing back at me with a concerned expression on his handsome face.
“Well, the yard was overgrown with blackberries; I took a Bobcat and cleared it out.” He gestures to the raw dirt around the house. We’re bordered by woods on all sides, but there’s a nice sized yard, empty and ready for plants or grass.
That’s not what I meant when I asked that question. Maybe Crown knows that, maybe not.
“Did you really buy this house for me?” I whisper, and he turns away, looking up toward the front porch where Sin is waiting with Reba.
“I bought it for my future wife,” is the answer that I get.
The house is … well, it’s disturbingly cute. I mean, like sickeningly cute. The paint is fresh; I bet he had hang-arounds do most of the work. The deck has been repaired in several places, and the white railing is crisp and clean. There’s even a pair of rocking chairs out front.
“I see.”
“Gidge,” Crown starts, but I’m already walking past him. Fem slips nicely in between us so that when Crown goes to grab my arm, he’s got a snarly, toothy barrier to stop him. I pound up the front steps in my riding boots and reach for the handle on the screen door.
“This sure is cute,” Reba is saying, but I breeze right past her. Past Sin. I storm inside to find a short hallway with an entrance to the right that leads into the kitchen, one on the left that leads to a sitting room area. The kitchen itself is in bad need of some updates, but there’s a huge farmhouse sink and a brand-new refrigerator, a small table with mismatched chairs.
“Gidget.” It’s Crown, chasing after me. I ignore him, moving deeper into the house to find a larger living room area with an empty spot that’s probably supposed to house a dining table. The place is comfortable and homey, but clearly it isn’t very well lived-in. “Stop.”
