Free Leather and Sand (Riding the Line Series) by Jayna Vixen

intense blue eyes and his stubborn jaw. Manali looked like she wanted details but she didn’t say anything. Rhee was exhausted and from the look of things, she wouldn’t be getting any sleep until the afternoon, when Sirena went down for her nap. Rhee stared out the sliding glass door that opened into the yard. The sun was just beginning to rise, illuminating the lush, green plants and flowers. The sound of waves crashing lulled her for a few moments until Sirena started to squirm.
    “Mama! Want waffles!” The tow-headed little sprite exclaimed, clambering off of Rhee’s lap.
    Yawning with exhaustion, Rhee sat up and rubbed her eyes. Manali shrugged and headed back into the kitchen.
    “Manali, wait. I’ll do it. Please, get some rest,” Rhee pleaded.
    “I’ve still got some energy left, tita. Why don’t you get cleaned up and then we’ll see. Come, monkey.” Sirena bounded into the kitchen after her, and Rhee had to thank her lucky stars for the thousandth time for Manali. She was truly an angel.
    Rhee hobbled into the bathroom and turned the spray on full blast. Inspecting her foot, she found that the gash on the underside of her heel was shallower that it had initially looked. The water stung as it cleansed the wound. Rhee sagged as she fought to stay awake.
    What the hell am I supposed to do now?!
    Coffee helped immensely. That Kona blend was really something else. Rhee persuaded Manali at last to go get some rest. By late morning, Sirena had that glazed look in her eyes, a sure sign that she was ready to go down. Rhee was ready to drop. Instead of their usual routine, Rhee pulled Sirena into her own bed with a couple of books. They read three of Sirena’s favorites before falling asleep together, Sirena’s head tucked beneath Rhee’s chin.
    ***
    Dax was distracted as hell and Wince knew it. He cast several worried looks at his vice president, but Wince knew better than to question him. Dax got into a small, blue car and motioned for him to follow him in the van. There were only a few times that Wince could recall Dax acting like this and pressing him hadn’t been pretty. Wince rubbed his nose absently, a phantom throb reinforcing his urge to stay silent. Yet, when they pulled up to a small home set against a backdrop of sand and plants, Wince took notice.
    Dax got out of the car slowly and stood in front of the little cottage for several minutes, as though he was trying to make a difficult decision. Wince watched with growing concern as Dax tensed further. The man’s posture was positively rigid, and Wince wouldn’t have been surprised if Dax just went and snapped right then and there. Dax shoved his hand into his unruly hair. It was a frustrated gesture that Wince was all too familiar with. Finally, Dax knelt and left the keys under the front mat. He stalked back to the car and motioned for Wince to move into the passenger seat.
    They drove in silence for a few moments. Wince didn’t want to ask, but he had to. He just couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut. Dax had come in late. Or should he say early? The sun was about to rise when Wince heard the door to the suite open. Dax had been particularly quiet when he got up, but he seemed a little jumpy. Wince noticed Dax’s bruised knuckles. Did he get into a fight last night?
    “So, we’re meeting with Vidal today?”
    “Yup.”
    “Anything I should know?”
    “Nah.” Dax sounded like he was a million miles away.
    “Dax?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Whose car was that?” Wince had his eyes trained out the window when he blurted what he knew was an incendiary question.
    Dax looked out the window for a long moment before responding. “Ran into the stowaway last night.”
    “What did you do, man? Your hands—” A small current of fear rippled down Wince’s spine.
    Dax wouldn’t hurt Rhiannon…no matter how angry he was. The man would never lift a finger against a female. In all the years that Wince had known Dax, he had never been abusive to women. And