Chapter 13
JACQUELINE
Iwoke to an empty bed, but the pillow next to mine held a clear indent where Brogan’s head had rested last night.
And most of yesterday when we weren’t having mind-blowing sex.
I stretched slowly, every pleasant ache in my body a reminder of exactly how thoroughly he’d explored my body.
Sleeping in his arms after several orgasms was becoming a habit I was in no hurry to break.
When I finally slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom, more of his things had appeared overnight, same as they had yesterday.
An extra bottle of his body wash was under the sink, along with a tube of his preferred toothpaste.
I also found more of his clothes in the closet, as well as a couple of pairs of boots that hadn’t been there yesterday.
It was becoming impossible to pretend he hadn’t basically moved in.
I shook my head with a soft laugh and headed downstairs.
The sound of metal clinking under the kitchen sink stopped me in the doorway.
Brogan was on his back on the floor, his long legs and boots stretched out in front of him as he worked on a leaky pipe.
His black T-shirt had ridden up, revealing a strip of hard stomach and the dark trail of hair disappearing into his jeans.
I paused for a moment, unapologetically enjoying the view.
When I finally forced myself to move, I opened the upper cabinet where the coffee mugs should’ve been and found it empty. Frowning, I finally found them neatly stacked in a lower cabinet I could reach without a stool or climbing onto the counter.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Did you reorganize my kitchen?”
“Made more sense,” Brogan rumbled from under the sink.
I stared down at him. “You know you don’t actually live here, right?”
Brogan slid out just enough to glance at the pair of his boots by the back door. “Current evidence would suggest otherwise.”
It was hard to argue when he was right. Even though he hadn’t made any big speech or asked permission, I liked that he’d made himself at home with me. It gave weight to his claim that I was his, making me feel like this was permanent.
“Fair point.”
He smirked at me before returning his attention to the pipe. While he worked, I made breakfast, which wasn’t easy without running water, but I got it done. Unfortunately, when we were done eating, he murmured, “Gotta head to the compound to handle some club business.”
He’d barely left the property over the past week, so I couldn’t really complain. Even if I was going to miss him while he was gone. “Okay.”
“Sorry, baby.” He gave me a quick kiss. “There’s stuff I’ve been putting off that can’t wait any longer.”
I smoothed my hands down the front of his shirt. “I’m sure you do.”
“Prospects will be stationed around the property, and the security system covers every approach.” He shrugged his cut on. “You’ll be safe while I’m gone.”
I had no doubt he wouldn’t leave unless he was sure I’d be well protected. “I know.”
After he left, the house felt strangely empty without him in it.
I stood in the kitchen, sipping at a second mug of coffee as I realized how completely he’d worked himself into the rhythm of my days. And I had zero regrets.
Needing something to do, I headed into Grandpa’s old office. I’d been putting off sorting through his stuff in there, but now seemed like as good a time as any.
I started with the big oak desk, carefully stacking old receipts and ledgers. When I reached the bottom drawer and tugged, it stuck. I gave it another firm pull, and the bottom shifted.
Kneeling on the floor, I realized there was a hidden compartment. “Whoa.”
Inside, I found a small stack of cash, a few folded property records, and a worn leather-bound notebook that Grandpa used as his ranch log.
I was just about to open the notebook when my phone rang. If it had been anyone other than Bex’s name lighting up the screen, I would’ve ignored the call. But my best friend was chomping at the bit to see me, so I wouldn’t put it past her to drive over if I didn’t answer.
I sank onto my grandfather’s chair. “Hey.”
“Ugh, this sucks. You’re finally living ten minutes away, and my dad is being a complete hard ass about the whole ‘danger’ thing. Do you know how annoying that is?”
I smiled despite myself. “Pretty annoying, I’m guessing.”
“Extremely. He’s acting like Wade Kessler is going to jump out of the bushes and snatch me if I so much as drive past your gate. Meanwhile you’re over there playing house with the president of the Black Crowns.”
“We’re not playing house.” It was a good thing she wasn’t here, or my blush would’ve given me away.
“Uh-huh. So the man is just a very dedicated houseguest?”
I laughed under my breath. “Okay, so maybe he’s more than that.”
“Maybe as in absolutely?”
“I mean…ummm…he makes me feel safe.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re at a loss for words,” Bex squealed. “You really like him.”
“Yeah,” I finally admitted. “I really do.”
She grilled me for details about Brogan, and I shared some. Just none of the sexy stuff because that was too personal.
After we said our goodbyes, I set the phone on top of the desk and looked at the worn leather notebook still resting in my lap. Taking a slow breath, I opened it.
Grandpa’s handwriting filled the pages in the slightly slanted script I remembered from the notes he used to leave me on the kitchen counter.
Most of the entries were ordinary notes about feed orders, fence repairs, and which mares were due.
Then the tone shifted in the couple of months leading up to his stroke.
Strange trucks spotted along the rear fire road. Partial license plates he’d managed to catch. Mentions of equipment going missing from neighboring ranches. Careful observations about activity near the back boundary of the property, always at odd hours.
The final entry stopped me cold.
I read it again, and a watery laugh slipped out even as tears stung my eyes. It was from the same day he’d had his stroke.
He’d been putting the pieces together, but he hadn’t known the barn was being used after he left. I closed the notebook carefully and pressed it against my chest, filled with a mixture of grief and pride. It felt like he’d left me an unfinished task I needed to complete.
Determination coursing through my veins, I got up, raced into the kitchen, and slipped on my boots. With the notebook tucked carefully under my arm, I stepped outside and went in search of one of the prospects Brogan had left behind.
Luckily, I didn’t need to go far. “I need a ride to the clubhouse. Can you take me?”
He straightened immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”
Handing him the keys to my SUV, I let him drive. When we pulled through the gates, I asked him to help me find Brogan. He led me into the clubhouse and straight to a large meeting room where Brogan stood at the head of a long table with Hawkeye, Ghost, and Cipher.
All four men looked up when I walked in.
Brogan’s gaze moved over me, taking in my red-rimmed eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I stepped closer and set the notebook on the table in front of him. “I found this in a hidden compartment in Grandpa’s desk. It’s his ranch log. There’s some stuff in here about what Wade Kessler is up to that you need to see.”
“Something that made you cry?” he asked, tugging me against his side.
“Only because I really miss him,” I whispered.
After getting me settled onto the chair next to him, Brogan opened the notebook and flipped through the pages, his expression darkening. When he reached the final entry, his jaw flexed. “He should’ve called me.”
Hawkeye leaned in, read the last page over Brogan’s shoulder, and let out a dry chuckle. “Looks like Otis was more worried about what you’d do once he called than he was about the thieves.”
Brogan’s mouth twitched despite the irritation still in his eyes. He read the line again about my grandpa not wanting to give Brogan a reason to do something illegal, then muttered, “Stubborn old man knew me too well.”
Ghost snorted. Cipher just shook his head, already scanning the earlier pages with interest.
I took a breath. “I want to help finish what he started. Gather the rest of the proof.”
Brogan’s gaze snapped up to mine. “No. You’re not investigating Wade’s crew. The club will handle this.”
I held his stare for a moment, then nodded. I wasn’t foolish enough to pretend I had the resources or manpower they did. “Okay, but I have one condition.”
His brow lifted slightly.
“You keep me informed. No hiding developments from me just because you think it’s safer that way.”
Brogan dipped his chin. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Our agreement was struck. He would keep me safe. And I would trust him to do it without shutting me out.