9. Lennox
Chapter 9
Lennox
This week, Willow’s got a job interview. A real, live, in-person job interview. At Montoya Investments, no less. She looks stunning, all delicious curves and bright confidence. She’s dressed for the kill, wearing a power suit that somehow manages to be both professional and ridiculously sexy. Of course, the woman could make a potato sack look like couture.
I drop her off at the entrance, her hand brushing against mine as she gets out. That brief touch is enough to send a jolt of electricity through me. I watch her walk inside, every step filled with purpose and grace. She disappears inside the building, and my internal alpha kicks in.
This building can’t be trusted. The world can't be trusted. The only thing I can trust is my gut instinct, which is screaming at me to protect this incredible woman. I sit here, my hand resting on the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the building. I’m watching her, guarding her, even though she’s a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need protecting. But she's mine, and dammit, I’ll protect her anyway.
The thought of my spitfire out in public by herself makes me want to park my truck across the street, crack my knuckles, and tell everyone within a five-mile radius to stay the hell away from my woman.
Which, incidentally, is exactly what I’m doing. I’m in my parked truck across the street from Montoya Investments, a goddamn fortress of glass and steel, watching the place like a hawk. Cash Montoya, the President of the Silver Spoon MC, happens to be the CEO of the investment firm. He’s fair and honest and runs a tight ship so I’m not too worried about my spitfire working for him.
Chewy, naturally, is asleep in the passenger seat, snoring like a tiny, furry grizzly bear. I’d give a week’s salary to know what the little shit is dreaming about.
The interview takes forever. Over an hour. An hour of agonizing suspense, filled only with the low hum of the truck engine, my restless shifting, and the occasional low grumble from the sleeping Shih Tzu. I check my phone every two minutes, just in case. I'm practically vibrating with nervous energy.
Finally, Willow emerges. She’s grinning from ear to ear. My heart does a ridiculous leap. That radiant smile could melt even the coldest heart, and right now, it's melting mine.
She walks toward the truck, her step light, her entire demeanor radiating pure, unadulterated joy. She opens the passenger door and slides inside with a smile on her stunning face. Chewy, jolted awake by her sudden appearance, lets out a startled yelp and buries himself deeper in the seat.
"I got the job!" she announces, her voice bright and breathless with excitement.
“That’s great,” I mutter, a smile spreading across my face as I lean over to kiss her soft lips.
“And get this,” she continues, her eyes sparkling, “I only have to go into the office one day a week. The rest of the time, I can work from home. ”
Hell fucking yes! I barely resist the urge to fist-bump the air. She’ll be working from my goddamn house. My gorgeous, talented, and absolutely incredible woman will be working from my house where I can make sure she’s safe. My initial wave of pure relief rapidly turns into something else, something hot, something heavy, something that makes my gut clench with possessiveness.
“That’s… fantastic, Spitfire,” I manage to say, my voice thick with emotion. I reach out, my hand covering hers, squeezing lightly. Her skin is soft and warm beneath my fingertips.
“It is,” she agrees, her voice equally thick with happiness. She leans closer, her eyes locking with mine. “I wonder what we could do to celebrate.” She pauses, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“I’m sure we’ll find something,” I reply, a grin spreading across my face. I pull her closer, my hand sliding around her waist, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I lean in, my lips finding hers in a long, slow, deeply satisfying kiss. This kiss is full of unrestrained happiness and a whole lot of untamed desire.
Chewy, now fully awake from his nap, just stares at us with a look that clearly says, ‘I can’t believe I’m witnessing this level of pussy whipped from you.’ The little furry fucker can judge all he wants. I don’t care. Because right now, I have Willow, and my love for this incredible woman continues to grow stronger every day. It's overwhelming, exhilarating, and utterly, completely terrifying. And I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.
My phone rings, the jarring sound cutting through the otherwise peaceful domesticity of my living room. Willow’s sprawled across the sofa, her laptop precariously balanced on her stomach, working on her new-hire paperwork. Chewy’s asleep at her feet, a furry, snoring lump of pure canine contentment.
I glance down at the screen and see Keller’s name. Fucking hell. I’d almost managed to forget about my job.
“We need to discuss the case,” he grumbles when I answer.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous. I already don’t like where this is going.
“Cavani jumped right out of the frying pan into the goddamn fire,” Keller growls.
The dumb fuck is a walking, talking disaster zone, a human embodiment of bad decisions and questionable ethics. I settle back, preparing for a long, tedious explanation of what kind of trouble this walking red flag has gotten himself into. I already feel my blood pressure rising.
Keller continues, his voice dropping even lower. “He decided to throw the cartel under the bus to save his own ass. He gave a full confession and turned over all his files.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” I ask, my voice tight. Then a thought occurs to me. Cavani’s new circumstances mean he’s much safer in prison than on the outside. Plus, he’s cooperating, which means Willow probably won’t have to testify against him.
“I’m not sure if it was a brilliant move or the dumbest fucking thing he could’ve done.” Keller’s bafflement is evident.
“It’s pretty impressive, in a mind-numbingly stupid kind of way. Screwing over the cartel is like playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun and a blindfold,” I mutter, glancing over to see Willow watching me, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Those big, intelligent eyes are already picking up on the shift in my mood. Damn, she’s fucking perfect.
This is getting interesting. The implications of this Cavani situation hits me hard. His insane move changes everything . Willow’s no longer in immediate danger, which is a fucking relief. Now, I just have to convince her to stick around. Convince her to stay, not for her safety, but for me.
Keller cuts to the chase. “You planning on returning to work anytime soon?”
“Now that Willow’s in the clear, I’ll be in on Monday.” And not a fucking moment sooner.
“Understood,” Keller says. His voice is strained. “About fucking time.” The relief in his tone is almost as palpable as the tension that's been hanging in the air between us since the raid. While he’s been ordering me to return to work, I’ve been refusing. We both know this whole Cavani mess has been controlling my decisions. Now, I can finally focus on something much more important than anything else. Tying my spitfire to me forever.
As I hang up the phone, immense relief overwhelms me.
“Is everything okay?” Willow closes her laptop and gets up to walk over to me.
“Everything is fucking great.” I smile and pull her down onto my lap. As she settles down, my cock wakes the fuck up and presses against her soft center. “Cavani cut a deal with the DA. He’s giving up the cartel to save his own ass.”
Willow leans back and stares down at me, frowning. “Turning on the cartel isn’t a smart way to do that. ”
“That’s his problem.” I smirk, pulling her face down for my kiss. I’ll be keeping an eye on the Cavani case to make sure nothing changes, but for now, it looks like he won’t be a threat to Willow anymore.
I’m not sure my overprotective instincts will ever calm down, but at least the immediate threat is over.