Crossroads (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series) - DD Prince Page 0,39
I nearly got, you know, set on fire.”
I heard my dad growl through the line, and I watched Christian’s jaw clench as he looked the other way.
I stared at him with scrutiny as I replayed the night’s events over in my head.
“Yeah. Not sure why my smart daughter acted so un-smart. We’ll be havin’ a chat to suss that shit out, smartass.”
“What happened to reserving judgement until you hear my side of things?”
Dad was usually good about that stuff but lately he’d been a little touchy or almost trigger-happy and I wasn’t quite sure why.
“Hm,” he grumbled. “Pass the phone back to Fork for me?”
“Sure. See you later.”
“Love you to the moon and back, Joelle.”
“Love you more, Dad.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance.”
I smiled as I passed the phone to Christian. He put it to his ear.
“Prez.” He walked out of the lounge with it to his ear, his coffee mug in his other hand. I took another bite of my jelly donut and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee.
Edge stretched with a very loud growly sound as he sat upright.
“Tell me that’s coffee and donuts I’m smellin’.”
“Here.” I walked a cup to him and he accepted it gratefully.
“You okay, baby cakes?” Edge asked.
“Yeah, tired, but you know.” I shrugged. “What was that last night?”
He gave me a meaningful look. “We’re figurin’ that out, but it could be because my bike was there. Maybe they thought I was in that bedroom.”
I looked around and whispered. “How did he know to get me out just before it happened?”
Edge gave me a serious expression. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all in hand.”
I tilted my head curiously.
“Babe, leave it.” He got up and set his cup down. “Right back. Goin’ to the john.”
Delia walked back in at the same time as he did.
“You need anything, honey?” Delia asked me.
I shook my head. “Naw, just wanna get home. I’ll return your trackpants and sneakers next time I’m here. Or I’ll get them on a truck if you’re in a hurry.”
“You kidding? You know I have two hundred pairs of shoes.” She waved her arm. “Speaking of, I’ll get you a hoodie.”
I was still in a tank top. I had sneakers she’d lent me the night before, getting just inside the front door to grab them from her coat closet when the fire department was finished putting out the fire in the guest room.
“So, I can get a ride with you?” I asked Edge. “I need to get home, buy a new phone, and I told Ella I’d cover for her from four o’clock because she and her mother are taking her grandmother to a doctor’s appointment.”
“Sure, uh… shit,” Edge grumbled.
“What? Not goin’ back before church?”
“No. I am. No sissy bar on my bike. Took it off right after…” He got a faraway look in his eyes.
He was thinking of Jet. It hadn’t surprised me that no other woman had been on the back of his bike since Jet died. In fact, I already kinda sorta knew this fact and that it’d mean I’d have to ride with the other biker heading back to Aberdeen today.
“She can ride with Fork, right?” Delia asked, passing me a new Dominion Brotherhood hoodie.
Christian was coming back into the room.
“Fork, you got a backrest on your bike?” Delia asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Give Jojo a lift back to Aberdeen?” Delia asked.
He said nothing. He gave me a look. A look like I’d orchestrated this and that he was unhappy about it.
I stared directly into his eyes. “Ella needs me to cover for her so she can take her grandma to the neurologist. Brady isn’t coming until tonight. You’re my only ride back unless we get a prospect to drive me. Is there a prospect available, Aunt Delia?”
“You got no problem letting women who aren’t your woman onto the back of your bike, Fork,” Edge said with more than an edge to his voice, like he was pissed off that Fork hadn’t automatically agreed.
And I understood the reasoning behind the statement: some men wouldn’t let anyone ride bitch unless it was their bitch. Clearly, Edge knew differently about Christian Forker.
I found it kind of sad that he didn’t have a discerning eye about who rode wrapped around his back.
“It’s fine,” he mumbled and reached into the inside of his cut, pulled out an elastic and I watched him wrap his long bedhead-mussed hair into a low bun.
I’d also twisted my own hair into a knot while I was on the toilet for lack