Chapter Nineteen Spock
After taking Chloe on a tour of her site to show her where we installed the security cameras, I take her to her office.
I point toward the upper corner behind her desk. “That’s the last one.”
Chloe tilts her head back, studying the small camera mounted near the ceiling. From its position, it captures the door, her desk, and most of the office.
“I angled it so anyone coming or going will be recorded,” I explain. “It’ll also show if someone gets into your desk or files when you aren’t here.”
She lowers her gaze to mine, but I can’t read her expression.
I rub the back of my neck. “I should’ve asked before I put a camera in your office.”
“You put cameras everywhere else without asking.”
“Outside and in the common areas.” I gesture around the cramped space. “This is different. It’s your office. Even if it’s only a construction trailer, it’s still your private space.” I hold her gaze. “If you feel like I’ve invaded your privacy, say the word, and I’ll take it down.”
Her eyes return to the camera.
I wait, trying not to let the silence get to me.
Protecting Chloe is becoming an instinct I can’t control, but I don’t want that protection to feel like another man trying to take control away from her.
She has enough people questioning her decisions.
The last thing she needs is me doing the same thing.
“Leave it,” she says.
Relief loosens the knot between my shoulders. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She folds her arms across her chest. “After what Hawk told us about Blackwood, I want the ability to monitor him.”
Hawk’s report bothers me more every time I think about it. Blackwood spent most of the day inside this office instead of overseeing the crew, and nobody knows what he was doing in here. Then there’s his unexpected visitor.
“Good,” I say. “You’ll have access to every camera. Spark will set it up so you can watch the feeds from your phone or computer.”
“That’ll make it harder for Blackwood to hide whatever he’s doing.”
“We will.”
The look she gives me says she catches the qualification.
“I told you before; you aren’t in this alone.”
I open the office door and lead her outside. The heat hits us immediately, though the sun is dropping toward the horizon. Long shadows stretch across the half-finished building, and the site is quiet enough that our footsteps crunch loudly against the gravel.
I scan the parking area.
Hawk’s and Rush’s bikes are both gone, along with their riders. The only vehicle left is mine.
I stop beside my bike and hand Chloe the spare helmet. “Ready to go?”
She accepts it but doesn’t put it on. “I want to go home and change first.”
My gaze drops over her work boots, jeans, and fitted T-shirt. There’s a streak of dust along one hip and another near her shoulder. She looks good enough to eat, but I’m smart enough not to say that.
“Works for me,” I say. “We’ll stop at your place, then go to dinner.”
She studies me for a second. “You’re willing to wait?”
“For you? Yes.”
Her lips curve. “I’m beginning to think you’re stubborn.”
“Beginning?”
She laughs, and the sound cuts through the tension that has followed us all evening.
I swing onto the bike and start the engine. It roars to life beneath me, shattering the silence of the empty site. Chloe secures the helmet, steps closer, and rests one hand on my shoulder before climbing on behind me.
Her thighs close around my hips.
Then she presses against my back and wraps her arms tightly around my waist.
Every protective instinct inside me settles into place as her arms and legs hold me. For the first time since we found Blackwood destroying that wall, I can breathe again.
I pull up beneath the sweeping black-and-gold awning outside Cerberus, easing my bike toward the curb directly in front of the restaurant.
The name is displayed in understated red-gold lettering beside an elegant three-headed-dog emblem—subtle enough that most people probably don’t recognize the connection to the guardian of the underworld.
The restaurant occupies the ground floor of our casino, 1%, far enough from the crowds to feel exclusive but close enough to draw celebrities, high rollers, and anyone willing to spend a small fortune on dinner.
I park near the front door, leaving enough room for the valets and their steady stream of expensive cars.
Porsches, Bentleys, and a silver Lamborghini gleam beneath the exterior lights.
My Harley earns a few curious looks, but nobody tells me to move it.
They know better. Then I climb off and offer a hand to Chloe.
She places one hand in mine and the other on my shoulder as she swings one leg over the seat. I catch her around the waist and lift her the rest of the way down, making sure the skirt of her stunning blue dress doesn’t brush against the bike or pavement.
“Careful,” I murmur as her heels touch the ground.
“I can get off a motorcycle by myself.”
“I know.”
Her eyes narrow. “Then why did you practically carry me?”
“Because I don’t want you getting that dress dirty before I have a chance to appreciate it properly.”
Her lips part, and for a second, I think I’ve finally managed to leave Chloe speechless.
The dress hugs every curve before falling softly to just above her knees. It’s classy, elegant, and sexy enough to make me consider skipping dinner altogether. Her hair spills over her shoulders in loose waves, and the subtle makeup she’s wearing makes her eyes appear even larger.
She smooths her hands over the skirt. “You’ve been appreciating it since I walked out of my bedroom.”
“And I’m nowhere near finished.”
Color warms her cheeks.
I offer her my arm, and she slips her hand through it. The simple contact sends a surge of satisfaction through me as I lead her toward the entrance.
The massive doors open before we reach them.
Inside, Cerberus is sophisticated without being stuffy, alluring without being ostentatious.
Black marble floors reflect the glow from sculpted amber chandeliers.
Rich burgundy booths curve around dark walnut tables, offering privacy to the restaurant’s elite clientele.
Red-gold accents shimmer against charcoal walls, while smoky mirrors make the dining room seem larger without sacrificing intimacy.
A pianist plays near the bar, the soft melody blending with muted conversations and the delicate clink of crystal. The air carries the mouthwatering scents of seared steak, truffle butter, and fresh herbs.
Chloe slows as she takes everything in. “You brought me to Cerberus?”
“I did.”
She turns to stare at me. “This place is impossible to get into. They’re booked months in advance.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I tried to make reservations here for my father’s birthday last year. They offered me a table three months after the date.” Her gaze turns suspicious. “How did you manage to get us in tonight?”
I smirk. “It’s easy when you know the owner.”
“Of course.” She shakes her head as if that answer should’ve occurred to her. “Who owns it? Let me guess. A friend of Puma’s?”
“Kind of.”
“A celebrity chef?”
“Yes and no.”
Her eyes narrow again. “Who, Spock?”
“The Demon Dawgs.”
She stops walking. “The club owns Cerberus?”
“We own a large percentage of it. It was part of the terms when the chef and her business partner approached us with the idea. They had the idea and the business knowledge. Puma had the space and the money to make it happen.”
Chloe glances around the lavish dining room before looking back at me. Her gaze briefly lands on the small Cerberus emblem embossed into the leather menu at the hostess stand.
“Your motorcycle club owns one of the most exclusive restaurants in Las Vegas,” she says. “A restaurant named after the hound guarding the entrance to the underworld.”
“They let Puma pick the name.”
She chuckles. “I guess I should have put that together sooner.”
The hostess looks up from her podium and smiles in recognition. “Good evening, Spock. Your usual table is ready.”
Chloe arches an eyebrow. “Your usual table?”
I place my hand against the small of her back and guide her deeper into the restaurant.
“I told you getting a reservation was easy.”
She laughs softly as she walks beside me, and every set of male eyes that drifts toward her makes my possessive instincts tighten. I draw her a little closer, letting everyone watching her know that she’s with me.
The restaurant might belong to the Demon Dawgs, but tonight, my attention belongs entirely to Chloe.