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S imon’s hand engulfed hers as she led him down the stairs, the skin of his palm rough against hers. Other than her best friends Alyce and Chiara, no one else had ever been in her corner. Not truly. Knowing Simon was, and that he couldn’t seem to stop himself from being there, had her feeling almost effervescent. She didn’t totally understand it, didn’t understand why her or what it might mean, but she didn’t doubt him. Growing up, she’d been surrounded by people who lied as easily as they breathed. After a few years away from that world, she’d developed a different perspective and could now spot bullshit a mile away. And Simon was no bullshitter.

“Have a seat,” she said, letting go of his hand and gesturing to the kitchen table. “I need to grab my laptop.”

As she pulled her computer from the drawer of the hutch, he did as asked, the chair scraping lightly across the floor. “I was at the opening yesterday in San Francisco,” she said, turning back in time to see him nod. “And, well, I overheard something that is…” She paused and took a deep breath. “I overheard two men plotting the murder of a third.”

Simon stared at her. His expression didn’t reveal his thoughts, but she could all but see his mind spinning. Four seconds passed—and yes, she counted—then his lips thinned. “Sit down and tell me everything that happened,” he said.

She did. Over the next twenty minutes, she relayed the details of the conversation between Suit and Blue, described both men to Simon, then went over all of it again. When she finished, his gaze rested on her computer.

“You did research when you got home, didn’t you?” he asked.

She nodded as she opened her device. “I found Blue pretty fast. It was easy with the SFPD website listing their leadership. His name is Lieutenant Dean Polinsky.” She brought up the site, then Polinsky’s profile. Simon studied the man, but didn’t reach for her computer.

“And the other?” he asked.

“That one took longer,” she said, typing in a URL. “Most of the attendees at the event were people who worked on the exhibit, donors, board members, or political folks. I wasn’t sure which he was, but I eventually found him. Supervisor Aaron Lowery.”

Simon remained silent, and she wondered if his mind raced like hers. Who was the third man they referred to? What was he blackmailing them with? What did “Barlow him” mean? And because she couldn’t help it, she wondered if either man had a family. If so, would they be shocked to learn of the men’s treachery? There was never any question that their actions would come to light. She’d make sure of that.

Several minutes ticked by as Simon remained silent, then he raised his head and opened his mouth only to be interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Hold on.” He pulled his device from his pocket. “Yeah,” he said by way of answering. He listened for a beat, then spoke again. “We need to have someone on him. Can you arrange it with Mantis?” He paused and listened. “Thanks. I’ll fill everyone in when Juliana and I get to the clubhouse.” He listened again. “It’s the only place I trust to bring her,” he said. Whoever was on the other end of the line must have said something because Simon mumbled another “thanks” and hung up.

“Clubhouse?” she said.

“These men,” he said, gesturing to her computer. “They know who you are and where you live. It’s not safe to stay here. Not until we have a better idea of what’s going on.”

She couldn’t argue that. She’d already planned to check into a hotel room for a night or two. Or drive down to LA and stay with Alyce. She had the week off work, so leaving wouldn’t be a problem. Staying at the Falcon’s Rest clubhouse had never entered her mind, though. She’d never been to a motorcycle club clubhouse before and while the idea intrigued her, would she be jumping from the frying pan to the fire? Simon seemed like a good person, and she’d met Mantis, who also came across as a perfectly decent man. But what about the rest of them?

As if reading her mind, he reached out and set his hand on hers. “Yes, we’re a motorcycle club, but we’re not like what you might be thinking.” He paused, then tried to fight a smile and failed. “And now your mind is probably seesawing between feeling guilty for judging my friends and pointing out that’s what someone from one of those kinds of clubs would say.”

She made a face. “Maybe?”

He laughed. “I get it, I do. How about I give you some information, then you can decide.” Slowly, she nodded. She liked data—the more she had, the better. “Okay, here goes,” he said. “You know Mantis is dating Charley Warwick, right?” She nodded again. Charley Warwick was the granddaughter of William Warwick, the president whose name graced the library where Juliana worked. She’d even met both Charley and her twin sister, Joey, at a few library events.

“One of Charley’s brothers works for the best private security company in the US, probably the world,” Simon continued. “So does her cousin Chad and Chad’s wife, Sabina. Her sister, Joey, is also dating someone who works for the company, and she has another cousin married to another employee. In addition to that, another one of her cousins—because that family is nothing if not fertile—is the chief of police. Another cousin-in-law is ex-CIA, and one of her sisters-in-law is a mega movie star with her own security team.”

“So you’re telling me the Falcon’s Rest club has been given the green light by the Warwick family?” she said more than asked. He nodded. It was an odd way of reassuring her, but it worked. The notoriously tight-knit family wouldn’t welcome Mantis if they had concerns about his activities. She also doubted Charley would bring someone into the Warwick fold who posed a threat.

“Okay, thank you,” she said. “I probably seemed judgy?—”

“Not judgy, smart,” he corrected. “We don’t know each other that well, and motorcycle clubs have the reputation they have for a reason. Most are groups of law-abiding people who share a love of riding, but the ones who aren’t like to make a name for themselves.”

He paused and glanced around. When he met her gaze again, a shadow lurked there.

“What?” she asked.

He cocked his head.

“You’re looking at me like you’re debating whether to say something,” she said.

He exhaled on a huff. “That phone call was Viper, one of my brothers. He followed ‘Kevin’ to the hotel on the north side of town. We have someone watching him, and we’re already trying to identify him, but I don’t like how fast they found you. That’s why I want to take you to the clubhouse. To keep you safe…but not just for the day.”

There was a lot to unpack in that sentence. The fact that Simon’s friends were already tailing Kevin and that they’d already started investigating him was one thing. Where she’d stay and for how long, yet another. That she wasn’t just tiptoeing into Simon’s life anymore, but rather landing like a bomb, was one more.

“You’re saying I should pack for a few days?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “I don’t want to tell you what to do…”

She snorted. “You do want to tell me what to do, but you’ll force yourself to give me a choice.”

“Maybe,” he responded with a lopsided smile.

Her gaze traced his lips, then she sighed. One thing at a time, and right now, that one thing was preparing to stay somewhere other than her home. “You’re not telling me what to do,” she said. “I didn’t sleep well last night and had already been contemplating a hotel for tonight. I’ll pack some stuff. But can I decide where I stay later?”

“One thing at a time?” he said.

She gave him a wan smile. “It works for me when I’m feeling overwhelmed.”

He reached out and brushed his fingertips along her cheek. “It works for most people when they’re overwhelmed, but most people don’t make it easy on themselves. Why don’t you go pack and I’ll make a few calls. We can decide everything else once we get to the clubhouse.”

She rose, then on a whim, leaned forward and kissed his cheek again. Okay, not on a whim; she liked the feel of his stubble against her lips, the faint smell of his aftershave, and the heat of his body when she was near him.

He took a swift deep breath but didn’t otherwise move. She hesitated. A sudden urge to lean in again and run her lips along his jaw and down his neck swelled inside her, leaving her feeling oddly unstable. Unsure. A tidal wave of self-doubt hovered at the edges of her mind. Would he welcome it if she did? Was he really attracted to her in the same way she was to him? And what would it be like if they ever reached the point of taking their clothes off? Her body was closer to the beauty standards of the Renaissance era than the modern era, and more than one man she’d been with—not that there’d been a ton because she wasn’t a masochist—hadn’t been shy about telling her. Would Simon be the same? That thought had her pulling back. It wasn’t a fair assumption, but her past experiences made her cautious.

“It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes,” she said.

“Take your time,” he said, his voice little more than a gravelly mumble.

She glanced at him once more. His dark brown eyes held hers. Then with a nod, she turned and, careful of her toe, jogged up the stairs.