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"Absolutely," Bolt agreed. "Princess needs more friends."
"Yay," Matty and Annabel exclaimed in unison, giving each other a high-five that made both Bolt and me smile.
Daisy watched the scene with a knowing look. "I've made some sandwiches," she announced. "Who's hungry?"
"Me," Matty and Annabel chorused, scrambling to their feet.
As they followed Daisy to the kitchen, Bolt clapped me on the shoulder. "See? You're doing fine," he murmured. "Just follow your instincts."
I watched as Matty carefully showed Annabel where to wash her hands, explaining the dinosaur soap dispenser I'd ordered with the same excitement as if he'd created it himself. The sight stirred something protective inside me—something I hadn't expected to feel when I'd agreed to this marriage of convenience.
What had started as a means to an end—a way to get close to Coombes and avenge my parents—had somehow been complicated by this vulnerable young man who now trusted me completely. Who called me Daddy and looked at me like I hung the moon.
And the most unsettling part? I was starting to like it.
Chapter twelve
Novo
Much as I hatedit, two days later, I was forced to go out. Matty seemed content to stay in his Little space as much as possible, but he was showing glimpses of being an adult. He'd asked me about a job, and I'd simply told him not to worry. I knew we were going to have to discuss what had happened at some point, but I wasn't rushing him.
I had to go to one of the bars since the manager was sick and I needed to see how Ashley, his assistant, was doing. And yes, Jono or Cruise could have gone, but they had their ownbusinesses to run, on top of the heightened security for the compound.
I'd delivered an excited Matty to the clubhouse, as apparently he was going to do some baking with Maria. All the guys knew not to let him out of their sight and as mama-bear Daisy was there, none of them would dare.
Tik Tac immediately caught my nod and drew nearer to them, and I nodded my acknowledgement. I was glad to see he looked okay. He was one of the newer prospects, but a stand-up guy. Never objected to anything he was asked to do.
I was relieved Sophie hadn't been back to the club in the last couple of days.
I got in my truck and headed to the edge of town where The Last Keg was located. We ran two bars. One was more upscale and catered to the younger crowd; this one was more for the locals and next to a huge rest stop popular with big rig drivers. We served food, again nothing fancy, but filling. Next door, Glitter Bomb was our strip club. It was early, though, so the girls had only been in bed maybe two hours and as I called them yesterday and they were fine, I wasn't going to go in.
I walked in and greeted Andy, who was bent stocking shelves just as Ashley came out of the back office. She grinned. "Hi Bear."
"Everything good? Problems?"
She shrugged. "Masterton's thought they were gonna short me on the delivery yesterday, but I soon set them straight."
I chuckled. Ashley was a hundred and twenty pounds, if that, but she took no prisoners, and besides, all she had to do if she needed was pick up the phone and she'd have the place full of Diamond Kings. I also knew Jimmy Masterton was very well aware of that and if it was a driver, he would take care of it. Ben, our regular manager, had been sick with an ulcer, buthe was about ready to retire as well. Ashley would be a great replacement.
She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't expect to see you. Thought you were all loved up on your honeymoon."
I rolled my eyes even though a kernel of warmth unfurled in my gut. "You're all a bunch of gossiping old ladies." She snorted.
"Don't let Daisy hear you say that."
Which was true.
"Want a drink, boss? We got a new bourbon in," Andy offered.
What I wanted was to get out of here and home to Matty but it wouldn't kill me to sit for five minutes.
I nodded. "Small one." He poured for me and I picked the glass up, inhaling the smokiness and something a little spicier.
"I'll have one of those," came the voice behind me and it took everything in me not to react.
I kept my face neutral as I turned to see Harold Coombes standing behind me, dressed in a tailored suit that likely cost more than most people made in a month. He looked exactly like the photos I'd seen—silver-haired, distinguished, with the cold eyes of a predator.
"Mr. Coombes," I said evenly, not extending my hand.