Arrow's Hell (Wind Dragons MC #2)(81)

Not one bit.

And neither does he.

“Call me if you need anything,” Arrow murmurs, eyes darting between Tracker and me before leaving.

“I’m here if she needs anything,” I hear Tracker say to him in a hard voice.

I’m pretty sure I hear Arrow mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of,” as he walks out the door. With Arrow gone, Clover runs to sit next to Tracker, taking his hand in hers. Standing there awkwardly, I shift on my feet, no idea what to do with myself. With no option but to look at him, I let my eyes take him in.

Today his shoulder length blond hair is tied up in a bun, a much nicer bun than the one I am sporting, and it looks sexy on him. But then again, he always looks sexy. He has a certain appeal to him that I just can’t escape. And I know I’m not the only one. His green eyes are steady on me and slightly narrowed. I wish I didn’t find the stubble on his face so attractive, but I do. The man belongs on a magazine cover and is well aware of his charm. He’s also a badass, dangerous biker—and the contradiction is extremely appealing.

“Clover,” Tracker says. “Why don’t you go get some coloring books and crayons?”

“Can I use one of the new ones you got me?” she asks in excitement.

“Uh, yeah!” he says, trying to match her excitement. She whoops, jumping off the couch and rushing off in search of her things.

Tracker turns to me. “Sit down, Lana,” he commands quietly.

I look around the room before I sit down on the couch opposite him. “Okay.”

“I’m not gonna bite,” he says, flashing his sharp white teeth at me in a wolfish grin.

I think he does bite. And I want him to bite me.

Shit, I’m so screwed.

“What was that thought?” he asks, amusement written all over his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face.

“Nothing,” I say with a casual shrug. I need to stop being so expressive. “Are you going to be here all day?”

Maybe I’ll take Clover out somewhere. No point sitting here and being teased with something I’ll never have.

“Yeah,” he replies, tilting his head to the side and studying me. “I live here.”

“Right,” I reply, shifting on my seat.

“How is school going?” he asks, leaning back on the couch. I’m still getting my business degree. After high school, I’d worked and helped my mom instead of jumping straight into college. Because of this, I’m twenty four and still in school. I don’t mind, though; I’m just happy to be studying something now.

“I’m on break now,” I say. “Just started.”

He nods, eyes widening. “Right. Anna told me that. I forgot.” He flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, and I can’t help but stare at it.

“So you’re going to be here every day watching Clover?”

I shake my head. “Not every day. Four days a week. While I’m on break anyway.”

I honestly don’t know why Faye wants me to look after Clover here. There are always people going in and out. Anna told me that during the day, while Clover is here, the clubhouse is a family environment and everyone is well behaved, but when night falls, all bets are off. It doesn’t explain why Faye doesn’t have me watch Clover at her house. It would be safer and quieter, in my opinion—but Faye’s the boss. I worry that maybe she doesn’t fully trust me yet and wants there to be other people around just in case.

Visiting the clubhouse does have some perks, obviously. I can stare at Tracker when he isn’t looking, sad as it sounds, and so far I find myself doing it at every opportunity. Anna is also here more often than not, so I’m looking forward to spending more time with her.

“That works,” Tracker replies. I don’t miss the way his gaze lowers to my chest, then lower, over the curve of my thighs. The tension in the room suddenly spikes. I quickly look away and am relieved when Clover comes back into the room, books and case in hand. She sits next to me and shows me all the different coloring books Tracker has bought her. I can feel Tracker’s eyes on me, but I stay focused on her. Or try to, at least.

“I want to play a game,” Clover says after fifteen or so minutes of coloring silently.

“What a great idea!” I blurt out. Tracker smirks, clearly aware of how tense I am around him.

“How about hide and seek?” he replies, glancing down at the little girl. “You go hide and I’ll come find you.”

Clover grins, then darts off the couch and into the hallway. I look back at Tracker to see his gaze steady on me. “I want to ask you something.”

“What?” I ask, pushing my glasses up on the bridge of my nose.

I shift in my seat again as he lazily peruses my body from head to toe once more, his lips kicking up at the corner. “You free after you finish up here?”

Was I free? I open my mouth, then close it. “Why?”

“I want to take you for a ride,” he says, licking his lower lip.

“A ride?” I repeat slowly. My mind jumps to dirty things.

He nods, eyes flashing with amusement. “Yes. I want to take you out on the back of my bike.”

His intense stare lets me know that this means something important. I don’t understand much about his MC lifestyle, except bits and pieces I’ve seen for myself or what Anna has told me. Excitement flutters in my stomach at the thought of my arms wrapped around him, my hair blowing in the wind. But then I think about Allie, and the butterflies exit, my stomach plummeting. This is always the issue with Tracker.