Free Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7) by Christie Ridgway Page A

rained kisses there, too.
    “I took a car service home,” Cami continued, interrupting that sweet memory. She sipped at the tea. “And when I neared my front door, I saw…”
    “Someone?” he offered, keeping his voice casual, even as he felt himself tense. “You saw a car or some strangers?”
    “What?” She looked up. “No. The light coming through the glass looked weird because, well, because the glass was broken. I guess my, uh, impairment made me not notice that right off.”
    “Okay.” Could it be that it was merely a random piece of bad luck? The thought should make him easy, but the uncertainty still had fire ants crawling over his skin.
    “And then your friends showed up.” Cami said, tilting her head. “What a coincidence.”
    He ignored that last word. “I trust them. They’re good men.”
    “Yes. They’ve been very nice.”
    “I’m glad you let them stay.”
    A little smile played over her pretty mouth. “Did I have a choice? Mr. Simpson seemed very adamant about remaining here until you arrived.”
    “Mr. Simpson?” He smiled. “Bart.”
    “I thought he said his name was Bruce Simpson.”
    “It is. But we call him Bart.”
    “Ah. Si calls you A-Man.”
    “He does.” Eamon decided a change of subject was necessary. “They’re going to tack some cardboard over the broken glass and then they’ll be on their way.”
    “I appreciate it.” Setting down the tea, she drew the blanket around her shoulders again. “I’ll get one of my brothers to replace the panes for me tomorrow. Or Bing or Brody will do it. They’ll have the right tools.”
    Eamon opened his mouth to volunteer his services, then closed it sharply. His agenda hadn’t changed. Especially when it looked as if the incident wasn’t anything to do with him and his situation with the Sons, but was just a chance happening caused by some dumb kids on an ill-conceived lark.
    The more he thought about it, it didn’t seem plausible that the other MC would go so far as to obscure their intent by taking shots at other shit in the neighborhood that night as well—what had Bart said? Signs, fences, a trash can. They’d want to make certain Eamon got the point.
    If they were involved, they’d want him to get the message loud and clear.
    Yet the fire ants were organizing another tap dance, and he could feel the itch of them everywhere. Rubbing his hands through his hair, he cleared his throat. “We should figure out where you’re going to stay tonight. Ren’s?”
    Her brows rose. “I don’t need to go anywhere. I appreciate your friends fixing the broken panes. That’ll do until tomorrow.”
    “Payne’s house, then.”
    She stared at him. “I’m not disturbing Payne and Rose at this time of night.”
    “It’s not safe—”
    “The patrol car will be coming by every so often.”
    She’d looked sleepy and confused when he’d first arrived, but he could see she was becoming more awake by the second. The muzziness of the tequila wearing off, he supposed.
    “What’s this all about, Eamon?”
    “Just looking out for you, honey.”
    Her spine snapped straight.
    Whoops. Wrong thing to say.
    “I’m here,” he hastened to say. “So if you need me to help you pack a few things, drive you someplace…”
    “But you don’t want to be here,” she said. “You broke up with me, which is a clear statement you’re not interested in ‘looking out for me’ either. Though I assure you I don’t need a keeper.”
    Eamon shoved his hands into his pockets. Stay cool. Stay in control. Don’t give any emotions away. “Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I don’t care about your welfare.”
    Her eyes narrowed to green slivers of ice. “Why does that sound like I’m a stray dog you once tossed a bone?”
    Frustration made his fingers curl. “I don’t mean it that way. I’m just saying—”
    “You hurt me by breaking up with me out of the blue, Eamon.”
    He deserved that. It had killed him to do it, but