Hold On (Page 124)

I walked right to Colt, who didn’t move, and stopped.

“Did you call him?” I asked.

“Nope,” he answered. “You barely rounded the corner to get to Ryan when he walked in the front door. I just told him where you were.”

Bad timing.

“Though,” Colt went on, “you plus Ryan equaling disaster, or just Ryan bein’ a dumbass on more than a rare occasion equaling disaster, Merry showin’ saved me from makin’ the call I was just about to make.”

“Traitor,” I muttered, only slightly joking, and made a move to pass him and finally get to work.

“Cher.”

I stopped at his side and looked up at him, raising my brows.

“You mean a lot to me. The pain-in-the-ass little sister I never had,” he announced.

Shit.

More warm and squishy, even with the pain-in-the-ass part.

“Sayin’ that to soften the blow of sayin’ this,” he continued.

Fuck.

“Take your big brother’s advice,” Colt stated. “You’re a tough chick and we all get that. But you hooked your star to a guy who makes a living providing protection. That is not a job. It’s a calling. Do not take that away from him. I don’t give a shit if it’s somethin’ you think is stupid, like fightin’ over who takes out the trash. But definitely shit like this, Cher. You gotta let him have shit like this or you’re not gonna keep him.”

Apparently, Colt had been our audience for a while.

“I thought I was protecting him,” I explained.

“You got that job, babe. Definitely. But when you do that, actually do it. And you aren’t doin’ it, keepin’ anything from him.”

I had noted late in life, after getting Colt in that life, that having a big brother rocked.

Except in times like these when he shared badass wisdom and relationship advice and it compounded the feeling of being an idiot I already felt.

It sucked to admit it was lucky for me he did. I’d already come to this conclusion about how to proceed in a relationship with Merry, but his added wisdom wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

Just mostly unwelcome because it compounded the feeling of me being an idiot.

I powered past that because I had no choice and because the jig was up, and since it was, I had to see to my part of the protection deal with Merry.

“Ryker’s got somethin’ goin’ on with that house, Colt, and I’m not thinkin’ Merry’s gonna be too happy when he finds out what it is.”

“I’ll talk to Mike. I’ll talk to Tanner. We’ll have his back.”

That made me feel better.

“Thanks,” I muttered, again moving to pass him.

“Cher,” he called again.

I stopped on an audible huff and gave him big impatient eyes.

I knew by his dancing he was going to give me shit, but I had no clue how the kind of shit he was going to give me would make me feel.

“You ask anyone else other than me to give you away at your wedding, it’s gonna piss me off.”

All the oxygen evacuated my body. Gone. I couldn’t breathe. And when you can’t breathe, you can’t move. So that’s what happened. I stood there, immobile, not breathing, staring at Colt, thinking of walking down an aisle in a church toward Garrett Merrick.

Since Colt got me and got me good, he smiled huge, moved into me, tossed an arm around my neck, and forced me out of my statue state to walk tucked into his side toward the bar.

“Holy crap, what’d Merry do to her?” Feb asked as we got close.

“Nothin’. I just called givin’ her away at her wedding,” Colt declared.

I wheezed.

Feb grinned.

Then she put in her two cents. “I think Ethan should do it.” She looked to her husband. “Merry’ll want you to stand up with him anyway, babe.”

Ethan giving me away.

How perfect would that be?

“Are you serious?” Ryan snapped. “Shit, how long you been seein’ Merrick?”

“My count, officially, they been together just over a week,” Colt shared helpfully.

“Are you serious?” Ryan repeated on another snap, his eyes aimed at me getting squinty. “A week? And you’re getting married? The dude’s a good guy, but are you crazy?”

I pulled my shit together and snapped back, “We’re not getting married. Colt’s just bein’ an asshole.”

Ryan looked somewhat relieved but mostly confused.

I felt Colt gearing up to say something else, so I pulled out of his hold and ordered, “Everyone, shut up about Merry.”

Colt didn’t shut up about Merry.

He declared, “I’m beginning to see how this whole Merry and Cher thing is gonna be fun.”

I shot him a look.

He burst out laughing.

I rolled my eyes.

Luckily, everyone else shut up about Merry.

And I finally got to work.

* * * * *

Garrett

Garrett stood, leaning back against the front of his truck, his eyes to the door of the bar, his phone his ear, wishing he had a goddamned cigarette.

Since he’d quit, he didn’t.

The bar wasn’t J&J’s. It was a bar in Clermont where Ryker liked to do business.

But he knew Ryker wasn’t there because he’d done a walkthrough of the inside and didn’t spot him. He’d also asked the bartender, who wouldn’t say shit on a normal occasion, but she said he hadn’t been around all day and Garrett believed her. And the biggest clue, his Harley wasn’t outside the bar.

Ryker was hardcore. Even in winter, if the roads were clear, the forecast was good, and Ryker had to go somewhere, he was ass to his bike.