Silas (Dirty Aces MC #4) - Lane Hart Page 0,14
studio shacks at the dock with a Murphy bed and she would be thrilled with the quirkiness of it.
“There’s a deck overlooking the ocean on the other side,” I find myself informing her.
“That’s so nice!”
“You can see the ocean, but it’s still a few rows away,” I amend.
“Can we go inside?”
“Ah, sure,” I reply. Taking her bags up to the porch, I set them down to punch in the code on the realtor box to get the key out. Once the door is unlocked, I push it open and gesture for Cora to go in first.
“Oh, this is a beautiful house,” she declares as soon as she steps foot inside. She barely glances at the foyer or living room before coming to a stop. “I love the kitchen!” she says as she runs her fingertips over the stove and counter. “This is definitely where I want to live. How much is this one?”
“We still have a few more places to look at,” I remind her. “There are three other homes that are available and furnished…”
“No need,” she says. “They can’t be better than this house.”
“You don’t know that until you actually fucking see them,” I remark.
“This house…it’s perfect, even though it’s so big, you know?” She wraps her arms around her waist protectively as if the size is a bad thing. No woman has ever said that phrase as a criticism. Bigger is always better. That’s a proven fact. And great, now I can’t stop myself from imagining Cora saying the same thing about my cock when it’s long and hard…
Fucking hell. I shouldn’t have walked in on her changing, then I wouldn’t be wasting valuable space in my fucked-up head with those sorts of dirty thoughts. I can’t lay a finger on her, no matter how badly I want to, not just because she’s the one person who could potentially send Nash to prison but because I would eat her alive without anyone here to hold me accountable. If not for Devlin stopping me, she wouldn’t be standing here breathing right now. I would’ve shot first and asked questions later.
“So, how much is the rent?” Cora asks when she comes over and plucks the paperwork out of my frozen hands. Gasping, she says, “Four-thousand a month? How am I supposed to afford that? I don’t even have a job right now! I really loved my job…” she trails off. Thanks to the bright, overhead kitchen lights, I finally get a good look at the color of her eyes. They’re a pale, sparkling green, almost crystalline, and right now they look all sad and shit.
“Slow your roll, woman. First things first, we need to check this place out thoroughly, more than just the damn kitchen before we even think about you living here or the cost. Besides, the feds are paying for it, remember?”
“Oh. Right,” she agrees. “So what else do we need to check?”
“It would probably be a good idea to at least look around upstairs to see if there are any leaks in the ceiling from an old roof. Then check the bedroom carpets to see if they need to be cleaned or replaced. And you haven’t even glanced in the bathrooms to see if they’re decent.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she remarks.
“Beggars can’t be gullible pushovers either,” I tell her.
“H-how would you know if I’m a pushover or not?” she asks, shoving a strand of her red hair that fell loose from her ponytail behind her ear.
“You packed up and left your life behind when I told you too,” I point out.
“So? You’re trying to help me.”
Help her, right.
“You need to ask more questions and not trust people so damned easily, especially if you’re going to start over here with a new name in a new town. When people figure out that you’re incredibly fucking naïve, they’ll take advantage of you.”
How ironic is it for me to lecture her on the exact thing that I’m doing to her?
“I’m not naïve,” she challenges, her hands braced on her hips defensively.
“Uh-huh,” I mutter. “Get your ass upstairs and check every inch of every room.”
“Okay,” she agrees just as easily as I expected, which is both infuriating and…enthralling. I can’t help but wonder if she would also be this damn obedient in bed.
Chapter Seven
Cora
* * *
I’m in love with the island cottage. The house I grew up in was four times this size, but it was always too big and empty, not just of people but emotions. Here, with the plush,