Wirth (Dirty Aces MC #5) - Lane Hart Page 0,22

the second I saw her on her knees trying to change a tire on a goddamn hill. If I don’t hang up with her soon, her sexy, raspy voice will have me getting on my bike and going to see her in the next five seconds.

“I need to go,” I tell her. “I’ll call you when I know more about your car.”

“Oh. Okay,” Maeve says, sounding surprised by my sudden attempt to end the call. “Thanks for everything, Wirth.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I respond. “Take care of yourself, Maeve.”

“You too,” she says softly before I end the call.

Staring at her banged up car under the bright lights of the empty, silent garage all afternoon makes it impossible for me to stop thinking about her.

I need to get out of here. Get some air.

Outside, I climb on my bike and race off toward Joanna’s house to check on Fiasco and Hunt. I haven’t heard from Malcolm or anyone in a few hours.

I’m not surprised when I pull up and see Nash’s bike hiding parallel to a big, green bush next to the cement driveway. I push mine up next to his; because even though it’s dark, there’s no reason to leave my Yamaha out on the street for a nosy neighbor to get the license plate written down.

I send him a quick text before I go up to the door and scare the shit out of him or his sister. Nash comes to the door to open it rather than respond by return text.

“Hey, man. You coming to check on the guys?” he asks when he strolls out holding open the glass door, leaving the main door open for the light from inside to shine on the porch steps.

“Yeah. Haven’t heard any updates in a while and was feeling antsy,” I admit to him.

“Come on in. Fiasco’s been in and out of sleep.”

“Oh yeah? That’s a good sign,” I say when he turns to go back inside and I follow him, shutting and locking the deadbolt on the front door behind me.

“Hope Joanna doesn’t mind another visitor tonight…” he trails off.

“How’s that going?” I ask him quietly. “Have you, you know, told her yet?”

“Not yet,” he whispers.

“What the hell are you waiting for, man?”

“I don’t know,” he says, turning around to face me. “I’m not sure how she’ll react. Until Fiasco is out of here, I think it’s best to not bring it up just yet.”

“Yeah,” I reply since I can’t fault him for being worried about her kicking us all to the curb for keeping that secret.

“Joanna’s in the bedroom with Fiasco if you want to go on in,” he says.

I glance around the small house and ask, “Where’s Hunt? He already left?”

“Ah, not exactly,” Nash grumbles. “He’s in the bathroom.”

“He doing okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he says with a grin. “If you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of just how much better he’s feeling right now.”

Once we stop talking, I can, in fact, hear a repetitive thumping sound and…soft moans from the hallway.

Nash clears his throat and says, “Joanna’s friend, Casey, has been helping with Hunt’s recovery in a multitude of ways.”

“So, he is obviously feeling better. Good for him I guess.” I’m also relieved because knowing Hunt’s busy fucking another woman is even more proof that he doesn’t have his heart set on Maeve. Or best of all, his dick.

“I’m going to see if Lucy can come give us a ride out of here once they’re finished,” Nash explains. “Unless Casey takes him home with her. Apparently, he was feeling self-conscious about the side of his head and ear being messed up. Joanna doesn’t approve of her going this far to show him he’s still, ‘an attractive, virile man that women will want.’” Whispering, he adds, “I think my sister is a bit of a prude. Either that, or she thinks her and her friends are too good for bikers…”

“She’s probably just being protective of her friend,” I tell him.

“Yeah. Maybe,” he agrees with a shrug. “Go on in and see Fiasco if you want. It’s a little quieter in there with the door shut.”

“Okay, thanks,” I tell him when I start down the hall.

Turning the doorknob, I slip into the bedroom and apparently startle Joanna. The woman who was lying fully clothed on her side facing Fiasco suddenly sits up wide-eyed in surprise at seeing me.

“Jeez, you scared me,” she says, clutching her chest.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “Nash told me to come on in. How’s he doing?” I nod