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He’s the first good thing in days.
“Hi.” I hurry to the next to last step which almost puts us at eye-level. “What are you doing here?”
He focuses his smoldering gaze on me. “I thought we had a lesson tonight.” He lifts an eyebrow.
Oh my God. The last forty-eight hours have been such a stressful whirlwind of sadness and work, I forgot all about our date—err, lesson.
“It’s been a rough couple of days.” My voice breaks and my eyes fill with tears that I somehow hang onto. “I don’t think I’m up for a lesson. I’m sorry you came all the way out here.” I turn to run inside and bury myself under my pillows, but Jigsaw catches my hand, thwarting my escape. “Hey, hey, what happened?”
I shake my head, unable to share details. “Just work stuff.”
“Okay. Come here.” He pulls me against his chest and rubs his gloved hand over my back. “No lesson, then. Have you eaten?”
Have I? If I did, it was a while ago. “No,” I mumble pitifully.
He releases me but keeps his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go somewhere and get dinner, then. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but let’s get you out of here for a little while.”
I blink up at him and study his serious face. “You…you want to do that?”
“Yeah. Come on.” He steps away and gestures toward his bike parked up against the side of the house.
“I don’t?—”
“Right. Right. Sorry.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “We’ll take your car.”
“I have to go inside and get my keys.”
“Okay.” He follows me up the stairs into the house, where we promptly run into my father and my cousin.
My father’s eyes widen when Jigsaw steps in behind me. Then, a faint smile crosses his face.
“Jensen, how are you?”
“Evening, Mr. Cedarwood.” He shakes my father’s hand quickly.
“Jensen, this is my nephew, Paul.”
They do their introduction handshake thing. How much has my father told Paul about his arrangement with the motorcycle club?
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d swing by and see if you needed help with anything,” Jigsaw lies smoothly. “I ran into Margot in the parking lot. She said it’s been a rough day, so I thought I’d take her out to grab some dinner.”
“That’s a great idea.” My father looks at me with relief.
Here I thought he’d flip at the idea of me spending time with any of the bikers.
“Your dad filled me in on the case, Margot,” Paul says with sympathy shining in his eyes. Children always get to him too. “You should get out for a bit. I’ll handle the callbacks you’re waiting for.”
“My notes are on the desk in Dad’s office.” I glance at the staircase. “I need to run up and grab my car keys.”
Dad frowns in confusion.
“I only brought my bike.” Jigsaw hikes his thumb over his shoulder.
The expression on Dad’s face slips into respectful gratitude. He knows how I feel about motorcycles. He must be pleased Jigsaw doesn’t expect me to ride on one.
“Here.” Dad slips his hand into his pocket. “Take my car.” He gives Jigsaw a once-over. “You can’t have enough legroom in the Thunderbird.”
My eyes widen so far, it’s amazing they don’t fall out of my head. Dad’s never let me drive his precious Cadillac.
