And it’s a nice place.
We both watch Clover play with all her friends for the next thirty minutes.
“How do Faye and Sin do this?” he suddenly asks, watching Clover fall onto the ground and get up by herself, brushing off the back of her dress.
“I have no idea,” I answer honestly. “I’m not her mother and I want to protect her from everything and anything.”
“Maybe we should homeschool our kids,” he drops casually.
My head snaps to him. “I’m sorry, what?” I can’t stop my mind from picturing a beautiful girl with my dark hair and his blue eyes holding both our hands.
He chuckles. “You should see your face.”
“Very funny,” I mutter. “Are you sure you don’t have any kids out there?”
His eyes narrow. “Always use protection. Trust me, there are no mini Trackers running around.”
“What’s your real name?” I ask.
He studies me. “Not many people know my real name.”
“So? I won’t tell anyone. I’ll still call you Tracker.”
He cringes and ducks his head. “Daniel Davis.”
I grin. “Cute.”
“And you will never repeat those words again.”
I cross an X over my heart. “Your secret is safe with me, Daniel.”
“Smart-ass,” he replies. “Now you owe me a secret.”
“Hmmmm,” I think, then smile at him. “I really write porn for a living.”
He laughs and mutters, “Yeah, right. I couldn’t be that lucky.”
Sure, it isn’t porn, but I like to joke that it is. If he doesn’t believe me, that’s his problem.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “Once, Rake and I played spin the bottle. We kissed. It was horrible.”
He scowls. “That bastard.”
I laugh at his expression. “It was years ago. He probably doesn’t remember.”
“He better not,” Tracker says. “Maybe I’ll have to hit him on the head a few times just to make sure.”
Watching Clover, I shake my head at him. “Never a dull moment with you, Tracker.”
How did he make me feel so comfortable? I was generally awkward and didn’t know what to say. Instead of drawing attention to my nervousness, he just glossed over it and put me at ease. He makes it so easy to be myself. I can’t deny that I love how I feel around him.
“Glad to amuse,” he says, repeating my words.
“You more than amuse,” I murmur, and his expression suddenly turns heated.
“Good,” he replies quietly.
“Looks like Clover is having fun,” I say, changing the subject.
“She isn’t the only one,” he replies, eyes warm.
I look down at my hands, unnerved by the look in his eyes.
“Aren’t you glad I came?” he adds. “I’m saving both you and Clover from a father and son who need to be taught a lesson.”
“And what lesson is that?” I dare to ask.
His smile isn’t friendly. “That if you mess with Wind Dragons property, you better prepare for war.”
I almost laugh, until I realize he is dead serious.
FOUR
A WEEK passes.
Tracker’s here every day at the clubhouse, spending all his time with Clover and me. Apparently he doesn’t have anywhere else to be. He’s also extremely hard to resist. Easy to talk to, down-to-earth, funny. Sexy. Great with Clover. I overheard him singing to her and thought my ovaries were going to explode. I’m seeing him in a completely new light. I’d thought he was some kind of player with no ability to commit to a woman. And part of me still does. But at the same time, I can’t deny how kind and thoughtful he is. He’s so attentive, hanging on my every word. He makes me feel important. I’d never spent so much one-on-one time with him before. Our usual interactions were in a group setting or always with Anna there. Or Allie. He’s different away from his MC brothers too.
Softer.
More approachable.
He’s really making this difficult on me. I can say no only so many times before I’m going to cave in.
Would it be so bad to give him a chance?
Is it just the chase for him? Or is he serious about seeing how far our relationship could go? It seems like too big a chance to take. If I give in, he will consume me.
I walk into the clubhouse living room to find Clover asleep on the floor. I laugh softly at her cuteness, picking her up and laying her on the couch. I love how comfortable she feels at the clubhouse, and now I can see why Faye wanted her here. She really is safe among the club members. I pull out my laptop, intending to get some work done, when Allie walks into the room with Jess, Trace’s old lady. Jess is nice enough, but kind of closed-off. I figure it’s because I’m not one of “them.” Allie is . . . well I don’t really know what she is. She lives here but isn’t at the top of the food chain, so to speak. The old ladies go in and out, doing their own thing, and the hang-ons are brought in and out by the club members when they want them. Allie is kind of in between. She isn’t an old lady, but she still gets to live here and is a part of the club. I don’t fully understand her role, but I do know that she doesn’t like me.
Never has and never will. How do I know? Well, her face is permanently scrunched up when I’m around and her eyes shoot daggers at me. Oh, and there are the cutting remarks. I couldn’t care less anymore.