She sighs, her plump cheeks puffing in frustration. “Daddy says all boys will be too scared to come near me.”
Her daddy is right. I don’t think any boys or men will want to date a MC president’s daughter, unless they are stupid. Sin is scary as hell. Not to mention everyone else in the MC—Arrow, Tracker, Rake, Irish, Ronan, Trace, Vinnie, and the rest of them.
I wonder who she’ll end up with one day. I hope it’s someone worthy of her.
“Well, you have a long time before you need to worry about that, I think,” I tell her, not knowing what else to say.
“I guess,” she says before giving me a cheeky grin. “Plus, Mommy will be on my side!”
I laugh, agreeing with her, before I usher her toward the living room. “Let’s watch.”
We watch TV for about fifteen minutes before Tracker shows up, smelling fresh and dressed in dark jeans and a white T-shirt. His hair is damp, looking darker than it usually is, and pulled back in a bun.
He lifts his chin. “Ready when you are.”
I allow myself to gawk at him for a moment. How am I supposed to put up my defenses against a man who looks so good, smells so good, wants me, and is so charming and easy to talk to?
I drag my eyes away from him. “Let’s do it. Looks like I’m going to a kid’s birthday party with the MC princess and a badass biker,” I say, then pause. “Never thought I’d ever have to say that sentence.”
Tracker’s lips quirk. “We don’t want the MC princess to be late, do we?”
I glance between the two of them, sigh, then lead the way.
* * *
“What do you mean you don’t like the way that boy looked at her?” I ask incredulously. Clover was right, Tracker should have stayed home. He’s acting like an overprotective, paranoid father.
“You didn’t see how he was lookin’ at her?” Tracker asks, eyes narrowed. “He’s older than her too, why the fuck is she hanging out with a dude older than her?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s seven, Tracker. Seven.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes not leaving Clover. “Yeah, well, she’s only six. Where’s the kid’s dad? Maybe I’ll scare the shit out of him just in case. Make sure he keeps his boy in line.”
“In case of what? You’re being ridiculous!” I place my small hand on his biceps. “Let them be; they’re kids. You’re overreacting. Now, I’m going to get some food. Do you want me to make a plate for you, too?”
His gaze leaves Clover then and focuses steady on me. “I’d like that.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, standing up and walking to the table where all the food is set out. Grabbing two paper plates, I’m placing some cold cuts on them when someone stands next to me. Raising my eyes, I smile politely at the older gentleman while continuing to load the plates.
“Hello,” the man says. He’s tall, well built, and has the look of a man who was very good-looking in his youth. His salt-and-pepper hair is carefully styled, and he’s dressed with casual sophistication in slacks and a white button-up. “I’m Dan. Zen’s father.”
Zen was the kid playing with Clover.
“I’m Lana,” I say, smiling and offering him my hand. “I’m here with Clover. Her mom had to work,” I explain.
He nods, turning his body to me. “Yes, Faye told me she is a lawyer. Must be hard to juggle work and being a mother.”
“That’s why she has me,” I add, grinning.
“Are you single?” Dan asks, staring at me boldly, his eyes unblinking.
Oh, wow.
I chew on my bottom lip. Yes, I am single, but I don’t want him to be interested. I’m not really attracted to him, to be honest. He isn’t my type, and all I have on my mind is the biker whose food I am currently getting.
“I guess so,” I mumble, hating being put on the spot, then cringe, glancing up at him apologetically. “Not the most articulate answer.”
“Not exactly,” he chuckles, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Does that mean you’re available or not?”
“Yes to being single, no to being available,” I say, blushing and looking away for a second, before daring to glance back at his face. “I’m not with anyone, but I’m not looking for anything right now.”
Although I’m flattered, I don’t really want his attentions. I don’t want to be mean either, or hurt his feelings. I’m sure he’s genuinely nice and perfect for many other women out there, just not me.
He smiles knowingly. “That’s when they find you, when you’re not looking.”
I have no idea what to say. I’m about to reply when a large hand wraps around my waist. I know it’s Tracker by the smell of leather and faint spicy cologne.
“She’s taken,” he practically growls. “Extremely fuckin’ taken.”
I swallow hard, hating myself for loving Tracker’s possessiveness.
It doesn’t mean anything, I tell myself over and over.
Does it?
He’s made it clear he wants me, but he seems like a man who wants a lot of women, gets them, conquers them, and then moves on to the next. How could I not get attached? Hell, I already am. I’m going to get hurt, I know it.
It’s inevitable.
“I see,” Dan replies, straightening. “You can’t blame a man for trying.”
He smiles awkwardly, more of a grimace, then leaves.