Page 41 of Ryder's War

Ryder’s father approached him. His face appeared to reflect two warring expressions: pride and concern. “You did a good job of figuring all that shit out and presented it in a way that left no doubt in anyone’s mind about the appropriate course of action, son.”

Ryder’s anxiety clicked up a notch. Nothing with his old man was ever cut and dry. “Thanks, old man. You don’t have to point out how critical the next phase of the job is, ‘cause I already know.”

Ignoring his request, his intrepid father continued giving his wise counsel. “Planning a surgical strike against a rival MC is complex anddangerous business. A misstep could cost your brothers their lives. That’s how we lost our last club president.” Strategy wasn't just about firepower. It was about understanding the ripples each move created. One wrong calculation and the waves could drown them all.

White-hot fury fired to life in Ryder’s gut. “Don’t make your insecurities mine, old man.” Some lessons between fathers and sons came through words, others through the weight of expectations neither could fully escape.

Maintaining his reasonable tone of voice, Ven’s expression took on the barest hint of irritation. “That ain’t my intent, son. I’m trying to impress upon you the importance of formulating a good plan and double checking all your details. This is the kind of job that will ensure you are remembered as a legend or a failure as Sargent at Arms.”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m just lookin’ to get a brother free of this shit so he can enjoy something nice that’s come his way.”

Slapping him on the shoulder, his old man nodded. “That’s the correct attitude. Get to work, son.”

Stalking past Darkness and his daughter, Ryder gave him a polite nod. Once outside the room, he made his way to the stairs and rushed up the steps two at a time. He wanted to check on his woman. Something about seeing her and stealing a kiss was all it took to tip his crazy world back into proper alignment.

Finding her in the empty, newly renovated living room, Ryder snuck up behind her andslipped his arms around her waist. He barely jerked back in time to avoid her flying elbow.

“Stealing a kiss has never been so dangerous, baby girl. What’s up with that?”

Dropping her paintbrush onto the end of the paint pan, she turned around with a smile that stole his ability to think.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

Trying not to smile, he asked, “What ya gonna do now that you know?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss. Lifting her slightly off her feet, Ryder let everything fall away and focused on the moment. As she opened for him to deepen the kiss, Ryder delved into all the delights she offered. Her soft tongue sucked on his, causing his dick to grow. The gentle abrasion of her nails as she sifted her fingers through his hair and lightly scratched his scalp had him feeling like more beast than man.

It didn’t matter to either of them who, if anyone, was watching their romantic interlude. The lust flowing back and forth quickly overwhelmed whatever sense of propriety they normally had.

Pulling back slightly, he cupped her face in one hand. “Thanks for that, sweetness. I needed it.”

Wiggling down out of his arms, Tiffany grabbed his hand and led him away. His tongue slipped out to run across his bottom lip where he could still taste her. Hell, he hoped this was turning into what it looked like because it looked as if he was about to get seriously lucky.

Grabbing a couple of cold beers from the bar, they ended up on the rooftop at the back of the property. It was a secluded spot where they often came to drink a cold one and enjoy the stars or the view of the nearby river. It was the perfect day, and his little firecracker certainly knew what he liked and needed.

They settled down in their special spot. All the vehicles coming and going in the front of the building, the noises from the shop, and even the noises from the renovations were all a dull hum in the background.

Ryder opened their drinks with a twist of his palm. “You have paint in your hair, baby girl,” he observed as he handed hers over.

Grinning, she shoved a hunk of hair framing the side of her face back. “A little paint never hurt anyone. It’ll wash out. I like helping to make their special space a home.”

“Helping? Fuck that,” Ryder declared. “I hear you and Rose have taken over the whole renovation.”

Tapping her bottle to his before taking a drink, she responded shyly, “Sorry about that. We just want everything to be perfect. Darkness has even been participating more. It’s going to be a fantastic place when we get it all finished.”

“Well, most of the furniture has been delivered. We’ve got it stacked in the garage.” Seeing the concern jump onto her face, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s all still in the packaging, safe and sound.”

Changing subjects, she asked pointedly, “Want to talk about what has you so worked up today?”

“Hell the fuck no,” Ryder said forcefully and took a long pull from his bottle. “Trust me, you don’t want that shit rattling around in your brain.”

Tiffany studied him for a moment before casting her gaze back out at the view. “I’m guessing the club decided what to do about this thing with Darkness.”

“I know you were along for part of that ride, but this is where you get off the bus. I can’t be talking to you about what happens next,” he reminded her gently.

Tiffany kept her sights forward. “I hope the club isn’t thinking of killing Abby.”

“Darkness would never agree to kill the mother of his only child,” he assured her. Thatmuch information wouldn’t hurt to give, and at least it might help ease her mind a bit.

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