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“Mak, baby. Over here.” The low, growly voice called out to her. She turned to see him.
Irish.
Leaning against a navy-blue F-150. He pushed off it and headed her way. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the mountain of rolling muscle and sparkling blue eyes. Time, it seemed, had only increased his sex appeal.
CHAPTER 2
IRISH
Yesterday was beautiful. Fifty degrees and sunshine. A day later, the forecast included snow. Fucking Colorado and her four seasons in a day bullshit. Growing up on the east coast, he’d been used to four seasons. Snow would fall by the foot in the winter, and he’d sweat balls in the summer.
It’d taken a bit to get used to all four happening in one day. Instead of the long ride he’d planned, he headed over to his office. They were a month out from the next Wilderness Warriors Expedition camp. There was paperwork to do, insurance policies to renew, supplies to order and teen profiles to get familiar with.
His cell ringing had been a welcome interruption. The urgency in Sean’s voice set him on edge immediately. He had little time to get everything in order and make it to Denver International Airport before Makenzie’s flight came in. Locking up the office, he headed over to the Spartan Watchmen compound to switch vehicles and grab Clover.
Ten minutes later, the rumble of his Harley faded as Irish parked next to his F-150 outside the clubhouse. Pulling off his helmet, he ran a hand through his red hair before fishing outhis phone and dialing Bull's number. He walked inside the clubhouse while talking, grabbing his dog’s leash off the wall by the door. Clover had become the Watchmen’s mascot of sorts. Irish often let her chill at the clubhouse while he worked, knowing the men would spoil her rotten with love and attention. Still, she was very much his dog and he wanted companionship on the drive to Denver. He let out a low whistle, and Clover came bounding over to him.
“Hey, Bull,” Irish spoke, his voice carrying the weight of urgency, “I need a favor, brother. Can your girl swing by some shop and grab clothes for Makenzie? I don’t know what is going on, but Sean sent me her sizes. She needs something comfy; she's in a bit of a bind and could use a solid. Veronica can use my credit card.”
“Sure thing,” came the gruff reply from the other end. “I’m sure Veronica won’t mind a reason to go shopping. Casual stuff? Any specifics? Is she a Little?”
“No, not a Little, not that I know of anyway. Tell her to grab a couple of items that are comfortable like joggers, tees, pajamas, and the likes. A pair of jeans and a top. She can go shopping herself in a day or two. Umm… I don’t know what, if anything she will have with her so see if Veronica can get all the necessities a woman would need for like a weekend. I don’t know what she is running from, but Sean told me she needed to get away and fast,” Irish said, the corner of his mouth twitching with concern. He trusted Veronica had a sense of what would make a woman feel at ease yet cared for. They were about the same age. The only other person he could think to ask was Trinity, Lucky’s girlfriend, but she was old enough to be Mak’s mother. “Can you ask her to go soon? I’m picking Makenzie up in Denver in a couple of hours.”
“Got it. Will do.” Bull's assurance was brief, but it was all Irish needed to hear.
“Thanks, man,” Irish ended the call and pocketed his phone, his gaze drifting to Clover, who sat patiently beside him, her tongue lolling out in a pant. He reached down and gave the mountain dog a rub behind the ears. "Ready for a ride, girl?"
Clover's tail thumped against the ground, her bright eyes locking onto Irish’s. They understood each other, the rescue dog had rescued him years before.
He walked over to the office with Clover. “I’m headed to Denver to pick up Sean’s baby sister from the airport,” Irish told Lucky. “I’m going to be out of pocket for the rest of the night.”
“Everything okay?” Lucky asked, looking up from the ledger he was going over with Arrow.
“It will be. Something went down at home and Sean needs me to look after Makenzie for a few days.”
“You said his baby sister? How old is she?” Arrow asked, his brow wrinkling.
“Not a child.” Irish responded. “Although she will always be to me. She’s what, thirty? I think now. Maybe twenty-eight.”
“Thank God. Don’t get me wrong, brother. You do amazing work with the teens during camp, but the thought of a teenager runaway chilling at your place…” Arrow shrugged.
“Come on, Arrow. Do you really think I’d allow someone to fly a runaway teenage girl across the country to me?”
“Honestly? If she was in trouble and needed help?” Arrow said.
He had him there. He was a sucker for helping at-risk children. “She wouldn’t be staying with me. I’d see if Trinity or Delilah or one of the older women could take her. Not risking it.”
Lucky nodded. “A moot point anyway, Makenzie is an adult.”
“Anyway, I’ll have my cell on me if you need me. Figure three hours there, three hours back and whatever time it takes to get her a hot meal.”
“Travel safe. I saw snow in the forecast today.” Lucky said before turning his attention back to the ledger.
Snow was not uncommon in mid-April in Denver. He just hoped it wouldn’t ground her flight. A few hours later and they arrived at Denver airport. Irish parked in a spot in the cell phone waiting lot and sent a couple of messages off to Sean.
Irish: I’m in the cell phone staging area. Tell Mac to text me when she gets here, and I’ll drive around and pick her up.
Sean: PD still refuses to let anyone park in front of the airport?
