Page 49 of Devastate Me

I pulled out my phone as we left the shed and started sending texts. The first was to Scout, with the information she would need to watch for the incoming pings, and who we thought was behind them, so maybe it would help her trace something back to them, especially since he had been sending files to them regularly too, and not just the pings for communication. The second text went to Kip.

Breakneck:Taking Nova to dinner, make sure you’re home with the kid, so she can go out.

Kip:Pretty sure Ash already dumped Knoxville with her and ran back to work.

Fuck. If that woman worked as hard as she tried to tell Kip, she would be pulling in more fucking money than they had. I wondered how long it would take for him to finally get that. Then I remembered who I was talking about. It would take him seeing evidence above all else, so that was one more thing I had to work on getting. In the meantime, he wasn’t going to cockblock me when I finally got Nova to agree to try this thing out between us.

Breakneck:Then you need to be home with your own kid, asshole. When’s the last time Nova had a full day to herself?

Kip:Shit! You’re right. She hasn’t had a full day free of Knox since she started working for us. I’ll be there. What time are you picking her up?

Breakneck:6.

Kip:I’ll be home by 5.

I didn’t bother with anything else and switched gears yet again to contact Nova.

Breakneck:Taking you to dinner tonight. Be ready by 6.

Nova:I might be working.

Breakneck:Kip will be there by 5, so you can get ready. See you later, sweetness.

She didn’t respond to that, so I pushed my cell back in my pocket and made my way to my room. I needed a shower. Despite not getting any of the asshole’s bodily fluids on me, it still felt like all I could smell was the acrid scent of piss and fear.

I needed to let Tripp know what was going on but wanted to give Scout a little time to work her magic before bringing her to him. He needed to see that she was an asset, and I wasn’t going to fuck that up for her.

~*~

As I got ready to go pick Nova up, I wondered just how long I could hold out doing the sweet boyfriend bullshit. There was no way that I’d find contentment with vanilla love making. There was also no way that she’d be okay with me fucking around on her to have my appetites satisfied. I’d have to talk to Kip about keeping her away from the clubhouse and making sure I had a head’s up about when she needed to stop by for his kid. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her and it would help to keep me satisfied.

Two hours later, Nova gave my truck the side-eye when she walked out of Kip’s house after hearing me pull up. I threw my hands in the air in surrender.

“I only have one motorcycle with a pillion seat.” Thankfully, I caught that one before I said bitch seat and offended her again. “It’s in the shop.” It wasn’t in the shop. I just didn’t want her, or anyone else, on it.

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay if you don’t want me riding with you. That’s all you have to say. Some people are weird about it and can’t ride with a passenger, I get it.”

Kip stood behind her, at his front door, listening in and the bastard laughed as his nanny called me out for being such a shit rider that I couldn’t function with someone behind me. Fuck that.

“Trust me, that is not the issue, sweetness.”

“Whatever you say,” she mumbled before finally moving toward me.

I pointed to Kip and issued the only threat he was going to get. “Not a fucking word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responded, though the sentiment was lost to his laughter. That fucker was going to tell everyone that his nanny thought I was a bitch rider. Fuck me. I was about to reassess if she was really worth it, but then her ass was in my face as she stepped up on the foot rails to get into my truck. My mouth watering over the sight was all the message my brain needed to receive that she just might be worth all the headaches I’d endure by claiming her.

Chapter 22

Nova

I made it into Breakneck’s truck without incident. I guess we were moving in a better direction than last time, even if I was a little miffed that he texted me a demand to accompany him to dinner instead of asking me on a date.

Sometimes, it was the little gestures that would have meant so much more. Breakneck didn’t seem to be the type to bother with them, though. That had been his appeal for me all along. I’d never get the false platitudes that other men might throw my way.

“Never thought about this before, is there anything you won’t eat?”

“Seafood.” No explanation was needed for that. Most of it was just downright gross.