McCoy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 3)

When we got to Teddy's, I grabbed Shy as the others moved inside the penthouse.

"I won't be in touch until shit is settled, okay?" I asked, watching the uncertainty cross her face.

"Okay."

"Eddie is going to be here with you guys. You'll be safe."

"You'll be safe too, right?" she asked, running a hand up my chest.

"That is always the plan. You know I can't make you promises. But I intend to get out of this."

"I feel like I'm being a baby about this. Sass, Harmon, and the kids are all acting like you're going out to dinner."

"Hey, they're old hands at this. It's all new to you. It's fine. I might even like it if you worry about me."

"Good, because I won't be able to help it," she said, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck, going up on her tiptoes, and sealing her lips to mine.

It was a good, long kiss too. One that had me wondering if there was a storage closet somewhere we could sneak off too. Until it was interrupted by the guys filing back into the hall.

"Try to get some sleep," I urged her, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Fat chance. I'll be sitting up worrying about you," she called as the elevator doors slid closed.

I'd never had a woman waiting at home for me before.

And while I'd always been someone who was cautious when it came to work shit, realizing I had someone worrying about me getting out of it alive, well, it was even more incentive to make it out safe.

I figured, as an added bonus, Shy might find some real nice ways to show me how happy she was that I made it back to her.

And I was damn sure looking forward to that.

Chapter Fourteen

Shy

I knew that McCoy told me that Teddy was rich.

I guess I'd just had a very different idea of what rich meant, given my pretty humble beginnings and middle and, you know, current times.

But Teddy was like Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous rich. He was Richie Rich rich. He was old money rich.

I couldn't claim to know a whole lot about Miami real estate, but if I had to put a wild guess on the price of the penthouse, I would say it was either in the high single-digit millions or the low multiple-digit millions.

The entire thing was grand, from the floors to the moldings to the buttery-soft material of the couch and the amazing view of the beach.

"I'd say you get used to it," Sass said. "But I'd be lying. It still makes me feel weird. Like at any moment, someone is going to figure out that I come from a dirt-poor upbringing, worry I might still have that stain all over me, and kick me out. But, really, Teddy is rich, but he's not like that if that makes any sense."

It did.

Especially given that Teddy had made sure to bring in extra beds for the kids, had hotel-quality towels piled up in the bathrooms along with a ton of luxury body washes, lotions, and bath bubbles and bombs.

He'd stocked an entire drink fridge with juices for the kids.

And then made sure he had a stash of "mommy drinks" too, which included coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and wine.

As if that wasn't enough, he had two different snack baskets as well. One with things like chips and cookies and fruit snacks for the kids, and the other with chocolate bars, muffins, danishes, and little slices of individually wrapped coffee cakes.

My gaze scanned around the room again, finding Belle staring at the kitchen counter, her face looking like what I imagined mine did right then too. Shocked, amazed, a little unsure.

"He had to have spent thousands just getting snacks and towels for everyone," I said, walking up to her. "And how did he even get it done when he was at the clubhouse with us?"

"Staff," Belle murmured, reaching for a coffee cake that was like three inches thick. And a whole inch and a half of that was the sweet, crumbling topping that everyone knew was the best part.

"Yeah, that must be it." I mean, he had drivers. And not just one driver. It was like he has a company because it was a rotation of three or four different guys whenever I saw him come to the clubhouse.

"Want some coffee to go with that?" Teddy asked as he walked past, making both of us jolt, like we'd been caught doing something we shouldn't have. But, luckily, he didn't seem to notice as he walked up toward the steps he had next to the counter, going up them, and putting on a pot of coffee.

"Teddy, your apartment is..." I trailed off, not sure I even had the right words to describe it.

"Over the top?" he asked, smirking over his shoulder at me.