“So, this is yours?” Dani ran her hands along the porch railing. “It’s a real log cabin.”
“It is. Built it myself.” In fact, I had spent two years constructing this place, little by little.
“No white picket fence?” She smiled, for the first time since we’d met again, and I felt my heart melt. God, this girl was going to break me.
“Not yet.”
Dani touched the rocking chair on the porch and set it in motion. I couldn't stop myself from picturing her sitting in it, reading a book or drinking her coffee.
“So you really built all of this yourself?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Built it by hand.” I was unable to keep the pride out of my voice. This house was my baby. At the same time, I was waiting for her to say something snide or condescending about my little cabin. After all, my cabin wasn’t exactly in the same zip code as her father’s multi-million dollar home. Hell, it wasn’t on the same fucking continent as what she was used to. What was I thinking, bringing her here?
“You built this completely by yourself?”
“Not totally,” I said. “I had to hire out a couple of things I couldn’t figure out how to do.” I had sourced as much as I could from the land, taught myself construction along the way. The few things I hadn’t been able to do, I’d contracted out, but I was careful about it. I’d paid cash, paid for confidentiality. You couldn’t be too careful.
“So you’re a biker and a carpenter.” Was that a compliment? I wasn't sure how to take it.
I shrugged. “I figure, there are some things in life you should know how to do for yourself.” I loved my club, but growing up the way I did, you learned real quick that backup plans were a necessity if you wanted to survive. This place was my backup plan. If shit went wrong, I could always bail and come here. I didn’t have to rely on anyone else.
“This isn’t a safe house, is it?” Dani asked.
“No,” I said. “The club thinks I’m bringing you to one of our places. So does your father.”
“So no one knows I’m here with you.”
“No.” The way she said it made me feel like some kind of creep. “I thought it was safer this way, better that I’m the only one who knows where you are.”
“Great,” she said. “I don’t know if I feel safe or scared you’re going to chop me up in pieces and bury me in the backyard.”
“I’d never chop you up into pieces. It’s easier to get rid of a body whole. There’s a lake nearby. I’d just dump you in it.” I grinned.
“Great.” She turned away, her voice flat, and I felt the tension between us again. So much for trying to add a little humor to the situation. All business, that’s what I needed to be.
“Come on. I’ll show you around.” I escorted her inside, my eyes never leaving her as she walked around, silently surveying the place. This was a girl used to the best of everything, and here she was, examining my things, evaluating this part of me I had not shown anyone. I didn’t want her judging me.
Dani put her palm flat against the stone on the fireplace, and I remembered the way she had put her palm against my chest, the heat from her hand warming me. No, get her out of your head. I cleared my throat. “It’s stone from the riverbed,” I said, before she asked. “There’s a creek that runs back behind the house.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “The whole place is gorgeous, Blaze.” She looked up at the ceiling, at the beams that ran the length. It took me forever to figure out how to put those in. “You’re really talented,” she said, and I felt warmth run through my chest at her words, then a flash of anger at myself for the reaction. I needed to not give a shit what she thought, even if it was positive.
“Thanks.” I walked into the kitchen. I needed a beer. Dani followed me, still poking around.
“Did you do all this yourself, too?” She touched the granite counter, her eyes wide. "If you ever decide not to be a criminal, you could totally be a carpenter.”
If I ever decided not to be a criminal. There is was, the condescension I was waiting for. She was exactly what I’d figured her for, a spoiled little princess who was slumming it by screwing the dirty biker. I pulled out a beer and opened it, consciously not offering her anything. “Thanks for the career advice.”
Her expression said she knew she’d overstepped her bounds. “I’m just saying, if you went legitimate.”
“Noted. Thanks for your opinion.” I walked down the hall toward the bedroom and she trailed behind me.
“So what’s the plan here?” she asked.
"We lay low and wait to hear from Mad Dog."
“Who’s Mad Dog?”
“The club president,” I said. “The other guy with me at your father’s house.”
"Do I even need to ask if we have cell reception or anything?"
"You can ask. The answer is no. Everything is cut off."