Hide Your Crazy (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 1)

I looked at the door, then at his naked state, then took stock in my state.

“I’m not peeing in front of you,” I told him bluntly.

His lips twitched. “Then let’s go get the key.”

“What if we’re seen?” she whispered.

“We won’t be,” he promised. “We’re at the end. Nobody has any business being down here anyway.”

That was true. We were technically at the end of the apartment complex. The only thing that could be accessed at our side was the trail entrance, and they had to go behind our apartment to get to that, not in front of it. Most everybody that utilized the stairs took the back way since they’d have to weave through our cars and fit through a tiny gap in the building and the large ten-foot privacy fence.

Meaning, he was probably right.

I wouldn’t be seen.

“Okay,” I said softly. “But we need to check first to make sure nobody is out there.”

“I will,” he promised.

And he did.

After letting the dogs out, I followed behind him, holding his hand for balance as we walked out.

When the dogs ran to the small patch of grass outside our front doors, we went ahead and started climbing the stairs.

It wasn’t until we were entering his apartment—those keys he thankfully had—that I started to think we’d actually gotten away with it. That I’d managed to walk out in daylight with my hand handcuffed to Logan Gibbs’ and nobody would become the wiser.

Except, I wasn’t planning on his brother turning around the moment the apartment door opened, standing up, and gasping in shock.

“Holy shit,” the man exclaimed. “You are handcuffed to someone!”

My face flamed scarlet as Logan cursed.

“Jesus Christ, Emmett, what the fuck are you doing in here?” he asked.

Emmett, the brother, obviously, started to laugh.

“You’re handcuffed?” he ignored everything that was asked of him and guffawed.

“It’s not what you think,” Logan said to Emmett.

“It’s not?” he chuckled as he took in our handcuffed hands. “Because, swear to God, it looks like what I think.”

He rolled his eyes at Emmett and said, “Come here, Katy. The key is in my uniform pocket.”

I followed dutifully, my face flushing bright, and tried not to act guilty.

“I was only fixing your faucet,” Emmett called out loudly. “But I have to go. The chick in 4F is having problems with her water heater again. I’ll see you later!”

Before Logan could ask him to stay, he was gone.

Which I was immensely happy about.

Not that I was embarrassed or anything about being handcuffed to the man, but hell, I definitely had planned on meeting Emmett in a much different situation than I found myself in.

I also hoped that next time I wasn’t leaking Logan’s juices and practically naked in my nightgown.

“Don’t forget we have dinner together planned tonight!” Emmett yelled. “Bring the girl! She’ll like my wife.”

I was already shaking my head as Logan bent down and retrieved the key from his uniform pocket.

“I’m not coming,” I informed him as he unlocked the handcuffs.

Logan wrinkled his nose as he removed the cuffs from my wrist, smoothing his hand down over the length of the red marks encircling my wrist.

“You tried to walk away last night, I’m guessing,” he said, studying the marks.

I tried to control my erratic heart rate and studied the red welts.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “There’s no telling what I did. Especially if you slept next to me instead of staying awake like you thought you would.”

His nose wrinkled. “I haven’t gotten that much sleep since…before.”

My heart took a ragged beat.

“I’m glad you slept then,” I admitted. “I’m…Logan…”

His eyes went from the ragged marks to me, and the intensity in his eyes made me weak in the knees.

“Yeah?” he rasped.

“I’m really, really glad that you slept.” I paused, letting that sink in. “And if you want to do it again tonight…”

I left that hanging, allowing him to interpret the meaning without actually saying the words.

His mouth kicked up into a semblance of a smile. One that quickly fell off his face when his phone started to ring.

“What?” I asked, worried with the scowl that had replaced the smile.

“That’s my ex-wife’s tone,” he muttered.

I looked at the phone that was ringing from his pants pocket, then made a hasty decision that I didn’t think all the way through.

Before either of us could stop me, I reached into his pocket and answered it.

“Listen here, motherfucker,” Tasia started in before I could even say ‘hello.’ “I’ve already talked to a lawyer this morning. While you were fucking around, I was talking to a lawyer about getting Brother taken away from you.”

I frowned. “I’m sorry,” I said with thin patience. “But don’t be calling Logan’s phone this early in the morning. Also, you haven’t spoken to a lawyer yet. It’s barely eight-thirty in the morning. And unless you’re also related to said lawyer, I highly doubt that you’ve done that. Also, Logan’s dog is named Sister, not Brother.”