Page 30 of Property of Bull
Because I have every intention of keeping Margo by my side for the foreseeable future, I refrain from asking if he was afraid of flying before she got her pilot’s license.
My phone rings and I reach for it, happy for the distraction.
Chapter 8
Bull
“You coming by today?” Sauce asks me.
“Do I want to know why you’re asking me this at ten to six in the goddamn morning?”
“Because I’ve been up all night and wanted to get some shut-eye, but we got deliveries coming in,” he growls right back at me.
“Standard or special?” I ask.
At this point I’m not even sure what day it is and can’t remember if we have a shipment due or if he’s talking about liquor for the bar.
“Standard.”
“Gear or Edge should be around, pull one of their asses out of bed.”
“Don’t forget, the Tyler memorial service is tomorrow, and you said you’d take it. We really need some help over there. I’m stretched too thin and we’re going to start missing shit.”
“You’re right and I’ve got someone in mind,” I tell him, opening my eyes a crack when I get smacked on the chest.
Margo’s nostrils are flared and she’s mouthing the word ‘no’ as she shakes her head.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but George Tucker died last night,” I let him know, rolling back toward Margo when she ducks her head into the crook of my arm.
“No shit.” Sauce sounds legitimately shook and I frown, trying to figure out how he knows him so well. “You know he had a Purple Heart? And a slew of other medals from Vietnam?”
“I didn’t know you knew him.”
“Yeah, Ma rented an apartment from him when we first moved here. We had some weird assignment at school where we had to interview a grandparent, but I didn’t have one so Ma asked him if I could do my report on him. Years later, he helped me get the job at the quarry and that’s when I met Frost.”
“We’ll talk later, but we’ll be handling him in the coming days,” I tell him, feeling bad talking about that in front of Margo.
“I hadn’t even started thinking about all of this stuff yet,” Margo whispers. “Funeral, lawyers, my god-awful cousins. Ugh.”
“Not to mention a murder investigation,” I say, as if she needs reminding. “I’ll walk you through as much as I can, but I have—”
“You have your own life and I’m a mess,” she tries to finish my sentence for me. “You don’t owe me anything, Bull.”
“Stryker,” I correct her, sliding my finger under her chin. “And your life may be a little messy right now, but we’ll get through it. Together.”
Words I’d never thought I’d say to a woman, roll off of my tongue.
Margo looks up at me, as if quietly assessing my sincerity until I see her eyes darken. It’s not until she flattens her hand against my chest that I realize that my heart is pounding, waiting for her response.
“Stryker, I know you’re not a relationship kind of man,” she starts slowly, tapping her finger over my lips when I open my mouth. “Granddad literally warned me about you like forty-eight hours ago. And me? Well, there’s every possibility that I’ll be up on murder charges by Christmas.”
When she stops talking, I suck her finger in between my lips, as I consider my next move. Although her pupils instantly dilated, I’m going to hold off on fucking her brains out right now. That only leaves one option.
“My bathroom’s through there if you want to shower,” I tell her. “I’m going to go make us breakfast, then you’re coming to the clubhouse with me while I get some work done.”
“I can’t, I don’t have any underpants or clothes that don’t look like a walk of shame.”
Shit. I forgot we needed to do that.
