“Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up. Six. Dinner at my place. Pack a bag.”
“Full of yourself,” she said softly.
He grinned.
She was in his arms. She knew good coffee. She’d agreed to get out from under Valenzuela. She had a crazy landlady she clearly loved. She dressed great. Her oven was big, but not big enough to roast children. Cats sensed her as their queen. She would be in his bed the next night.
And she had a sweet mouth.
Last, it was worth a repeat, she was in his arms and she felt good there.
He could ignore the meditation.
So there was only one answer to her question.
“Yeah.”
An Adventure
Rush
The next day . . .
“Yo, you wanted to talk?”
Rush turned his head from the engine he was working on to see his dad moving toward him in the bay he was in at the garage at Ride.
So he pulled his body out from under the hood and reached for the rag he had draped on the fender.
Tack stopped at his son and looked down at the car.
“Nice.”
Rush looked down at the Hemi ’Cuda next to him.
The last owner should have all his fingers broken for how he treated that baby.
But Rush was gonna make her all better.
He looked back to his dad.
“Yeah,” he agreed then asked, “You got a few minutes?”
Tack settled in, arms crossed on his chest and answered, “Always.”
That was his old man.
He always had a few minutes. For Rush. Tabitha. Ty-Ty. Rider. Cutter. Any of his brothers. Any of their women. Any of their kids.
Anyone in his heart.
Rush had no idea how the man did it. It was like there were ten of him to give all he gave to the people in his life at the same time running a Club, being the operations manager of a huge business and dealing with all the extraneous shit that was pure shit.
But he still managed to find time to throw back a few with his brothers in the Compound and make it so his woman looked at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off.
Yeah, even after all these years.
It was his dad and stepmom, but Rush couldn’t find it in him to think that was gross seeing as it also was what it was. It was the way of life, if your life was good and you’d made the right choices.
Rush might have his name because he’d always been in a rush to get what he wanted or get where he wanted to go.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t pay attention.
Especially to his dad.
You had to know what you wanted to get it. You had to know it was right before you went for it. You had to pull out all the stops to make it yours. And you had to treat it right when you got it.
Tack had taught him all of that.
And on those thoughts . . .
“I had another conversation with Rebel Stapleton, this time one on one,” he told his father.
Tack’s lips in his ragged goatee quirked before he muttered, “Why does that not surprise me.”
Rush ignored that.
“She’s ready to get out.”
Tack got serious and his tone was the same when he said, “Good.”
“But she doesn’t know how.”
Tack leaned a thigh against the fender of the ’Cuda and drew in a breath before he replied, “I see her concerns. Word is, that line of porn is doin’ well. Valenzuela won’t want to lose her.”
“Yeah.”
“But as far as we know, she’s not been made, Rush. She’s an employee. She can just quit.”
He’d never known anyone who “just quit” Valenzuela.
“You think it’ll be that easy?” he asked.
“Valenzuela’s a criminal and a sick fuck, but he’s also a businessman. This isn’t about dope and it isn’t about whores. This is a legit business. He whacks a director because she wants to bail, he’ll find it hard to hire another director. Far as he knows, she’s got nothin’ on him to give to a competitor or the cops that might make him wanna keep her under his thumb or take her out to keep himself safe. It’s a professional relationship that can be severed.” He shrugged. “She gives notice, plays that part, it’ll suck she’ll have to work out that notice and stay close before she’s fully out.” Another twitch of his goatee. “But I reckon you’ll have her covered.”