Remy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 4)

Swaggering.

The man swaggered.

And it wasn’t even, you know, fake. Like when I know a hot guy is looking at my ass and I put a little extra sway in my hips. No, it just seemed to be a natural part of him.

“So, girl,” I said when I got her into the passenger seat. “Are you gonna make me a grandma?” I asked as I put the car into drive and got out of there.

It was about a twenty-minute drive since I didn’t live in Miami but a neighboring town that had a little less hustle and bustle.

And because, you know, it was where the house my grandpa had left to me was located.

It wasn’t a fancy place, just a simple one-story, eleven-hundred square foot home painted a pretty ridiculous—but charming—robin’s egg blue that in no way matched the burnt-orange metal roof. It had been my grandma’s favorite color. And my grandpa had painted it that way for her. Even after she died, he made sure to refresh it every couple of years so she would see it “when she was smiling down on” him.

It had been in desperate need of a lot of work. It probably would have been more profitable for me to sell it, but it had sentimental value. And, well, it had a pretty great yard. Definitely big enough for my two little ankle-biter dogs and the fosters that I took in when my local shelter was in desperate need.

And now, it seemed, my little, possibly pregnant lady.

“Home sweet home, honey.”

CHAPTER THREE

Remy

“Where did you disappear to last night?” Alaric asked when he shuffled downstairs to grab a cup of coffee.

When I’d finally made it back to Teddy’s, everyone had been long gone, so I’d decided just to drive my ass home to my pets, where I’d made an anonymous call to the SPCA about the dog fight ring.

I’d still been cleaning water dishes when Teddy’s town car rolled up, and a few of the guys stumbled out with their dates.

Which meant Eddie was probably going to have to drive everyone back one-by-one—since none of the damn sports cars had any back seats—to get their bikes.

“Met up with a dirty chick,” I said, shrugging.

“Oh, yeah? Sounds fun.”

“Not that kind of dirty,” I clarified. “Mold sitting on top of the food in the overflowing garbage kind of dirty,” I told him.

“Yuck.”

“Yeah, so I peaced out of there, took a walk back to Teddy’s, then came home to check on the animals.”

I didn’t know why I didn’t mention the smoking-hot redhead dressed in burglar attire, or the dog fight ring thing, but I didn’t.

“We hit a few more clubs before heading back. I think Seeley stayed in Miami, though.”

“Probably hanging out with his old neighborhood buddies.”

Seeley was a bit of an anomaly to me.

He’d practically been a kid when he’d prospected for us. Yet he had more connections than pretty much any lifelong criminal I’d ever met.

Clearly, he’d spent a lot of time on the streets in his youth, making friends, learning shit no kid his age had any business knowing.

And to keep up his connections and his street knowledge, he liked to keep in touch with everyone from his old stomping ground. Even more, sometimes, than he wanted to have a fun night out on the town with his brothers, drinking, and hooking up.

“Did anyone give the kids their brunt work yet?” Alaric asked as Donovan came in, already showered and dressed in another of his slack shorts and button-up outfits.

“They’re washing the cars,” Donovan told him. “Gotta give ‘em a bone one of these days, they’re getting a little despondent with not being able to see any action. Or at least a good house party. There hasn’t been a clubwhore here in weeks.”