Colson (The Henchmen MC #20) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,21
his tall body in front of mine.
"What's going on?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the man.
"You people need to get back into your home," the man warned, his gaze scanning around the neighborhood.
"I think there has been some kind of misunderstanding—" the woman behind me said.
"I'm not sure—oh," I cut off when I heard the rumble of the bike in the neighborhood.
I wouldn't like to think of myself as a coward, but if this was a bad situation, I liked the idea of an arms-dealing biker handling it rather than a postal sorting single mom with two people very dependent upon her.
"Daddy!" Jelly cheered, moving to walk past me. And my mom-instincts made my arm shoot out, grabbing her, pulling her behind my back as Colson's engine cut, as he pulled off his helmet.
"What—" he started, and I jerked my chin toward the man with the gun. "Oh," he said, giving me something close to a bashful smile. "Sorry, Eva. I probably should have warned you," he said, clamping a hand on the armed man's shoulder as he walked past, moving up toward Jacob, giving him an approving nod. "Protecting your mom. That's what a good man does," he told him, and I felt my lips curl up at the way Jacob's posture straightened, his chest puffing out as he moved to the side so I could see Colson better. "And you. Protecting my little girl," he said, giving me a warm smile. "Though, you left her open at the back," he added, nodding his head toward the woman there.
"Oh, I, ah, I thought maybe she was your, you know, girlfriend," I said, releasing Jelly who flew at her father, wrapping her arms around him like she hadn't seen him in ages.
Colson's arms went around her, squeezing her until she let out a little gasping noise.
"That's my sister. Freddie," he explained. "Freddie, this is my neighbor, Eva. And her son, Jacob."
"It's nice to know Colson and Jelly have neighbors willing to stand as body guard for them," Freddie said, giving me a look that I thought I recognized, a look that said she thought something was going on there.
"Colson, not to tell you your business, but being on the street..." the man with the gun said, glancing around.
"Right. Yeah. Jelly and I are here to grab some clothes," Colson explained, nodding his head toward his sister, pushing Jelena in her direction, and the two of them unlocked the door and moved inside. "Jacob, can your mom and I talk for a moment?" he asked, looking over at my son.
Jacob looked between us, not wanting to be dismissed, but sensing there was a reason, so he gave him a nod and moved inside.
"He's not a bad kid," Colson reminded me.
"I know. He's just misguided at times. Okay. So... the gunman over there," I said, nodding toward him.
"A body guard of sorts. For Jelly and Freddie."
"I don't think I've ever seen Jelena with a body guard before. I mean, not that I have been keeping an eye or anything," I rushed to add, not wanting to sound like a creep. God, when did I get so bad at this? "Just, you know, the babysitter she resents."
"We have one for, ah, special occasions," he told me. "Wanna come in for a minute?" he asked, waving toward his door, seeming to sense the discomfort of the body guard when we hadn't moved inside like he'd suggested.
"I, ah, yeah, sure," I agreed, suddenly wishing I looked less of a hot mess in my baby pink sweatpants and black sweatshirt two sizes too big, with no makeup and my hair in need of some deep conditioning.
Why that mattered was not beyond me. Clearly, I had a small thing for my neighbor, despite all the reasons I knew it was a stupid idea.
I was just trying to convince myself that it was a proximity thing, nothing more.
The layout of Colson's house was much like mine, though all the touches were different. My foyer had tile, while Colson's entire lower floor was a wide-plank dark hardwood. The walls were an almost honey shade of beige that was immediately homey and warm.
His dining table was made from multiple planks of wood stained to match the floors. The salt and pepper shakers were in the shape of elephants wearing tutus, likely something Jelena had insisted upon, since I'd caught her leaving the house in her ballet leotard and skirt more than a few times.