Page 85 of Sunny Undone

“Didn’t he mutter some pretentious shit about preferring a Scottish single malt to good old Tennessee whiskey?” I ask.

Ridge nods. “He did.”

Wren smiles and makes a note. “It’s as good as any place to start. I’m still digging into Velaro. Also, deep diving on their CEO, Dale Pritchard, but haven’t found any firm evidence against him, yet. Can’t even find a payment, professional or private, between the two of them beyond the brokerage fee at a percentage that’s a touch higher than the going rate, but not by much. Who’s my client on the extra work?”

“Me,” I say at the same time Knox says he is.

He looks at me and rolls his eyes. “The chapter, because this could affect the very land this clubhouse sits on and our ability to continue to exist on this land.”

“So, business,” Wren says. “Payment or favor?”

Jackal looks to Wren, dips his head, and says something quietly we can’t hear.

“All taken care of, then, no worries,” Wren says. “I’ll go get on it. I’ll be in touch, Knox.”

Jackal watches Wren disappear, then looks to Knox. “Maren didn’t give up where I was when it could have saved her life and cost me mine. Consider this that debt repaid.”

Knox nods. “Thanks, brother.”

Jackal salutes and then kills the connection.

“Alright,” Knox says, closing his laptop and tucking it beneath his arm. “I’m out. See you guys in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you out, Prez,” Ridge says.

“Night, guys.” I stand and clear the beer glasses to the bar, where a prospect waits to take them from me.

I’m about to head to my room to get my keys, when a voice stops me in my tracks. “I heard if you show up to a motorcycle club and you’re real lucky, you can find yourself a biker to spend the night with. Is that true?”

When I turn, I realize I’ve never been happier to see a person in my whole life. Della stands in my clubhouse in those ill-fitting khakis and her hiking boots, with her pink cheeks and delicious smile and thick hair in two long braids.

“Yeah, Indy. As long as the only biker you hook up with is me.”

26

DELLA

I’m still not entirely sure what possessed me to come here when I have samples to review, a job to fight for, and a legal contract I should be poring over.

And nobody asked me to come. Nobody really needed me. There was no emergency or new development that required my assistance.

Plus, if I’m honest, I didn’t want to face the two people who were talking shit about me. And I wondered how many other people had seen me and felt the same way.

But, I was simply sitting in my office, my eyes growing heavy as I attempted to distract myself with a paper on phosphorous loading in subtropical wetlands, when I realized I’d read the same paragraph four times.

It wasn’t even that it was complicated or boring. I just kept thinking that I was sad about the contract and how my conversation with the dean went, and I just wanted to be with Sunny. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to explain how I felt on the phone.

Every time I tried to think of a way to explain, words got in the way.

At some point, I had to take Sunny at his word that we were building something, and that he’d be happy to see me if I came to talk to him in person. He’d told me in an earlier message exchange that he was spending the day at the clubhouse, and I had to trust that it was the truth.

So, I didn’t even text. I just slipped my hiking boots on, got into my camper, and drove here. Which, by every metric I usually govern my life with, is completely irrational.

But when his arms wrap tightly around me, and his lips seek mine, I know I made the right call. Because the smile on his face when he turned around just then was worth every effort.

His large hands shift to cup my cheeks. “Indy,” he mutters. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“You were on my mind,” I admit.