Chapter 3

THREE

“How’d last night go?”

At Asher Noble’s question my attention went to my teammate seated next to me.

“Last night?”

“Your meeting with Pete and Butch,” he reminded me.

Right.

Head in the game, McCray.

A busy diner wasn’t the place to discuss my conversation with Pete. Nor was it my place to divulge information about Jack that hadn’t been discussed with him first.

“It was…” My thought quickly died as River Kent approached the table with Mrs. Simpson. But it was the beautiful woman who was next to the old woman who’d caught my eye.

Atlee.

What the fuck?

“Wilson?” Asher prompted.

Atlee’s gaze snapped to mine. Her shock would’ve been comical if this wasn’t such a clusterfuck.

“Good morning, my dears,” Mrs. S excitedly started. “I’d like you all to meet my granddaughter, Atlee.”

Jesus fuck.

My jaw clenched. This wasn’t a clusterfuck it was a monumental fuck-up.

“Atlee, child, this is the gang.” Mrs. S lifted a fragile hand and began the introductions starting at the opposite end of the table. “Rhode, Brooklyn, and their boy Remington. Letty and her mother Tallulah who’s holding Maverick, River and Letty’s boy. Reese and Sadie, she owns the bakery I told you about. Jane and my main squeeze Davis. Sloane and Asher. And there at the end is not Walter, but Wilson McCray. He runs the gang. We’re missing Mia and Cole, the bride and groom to be. Are they not joining us?”

Walter?

“Sorry we’re late,” Cole said as he entered the area we’d commandeered for the occasion.

Behind Cole and Mia was Pete and Mason Hughes. Mase was Pete’s right-hand man, or he had been for the ten years they’d operated an organization along with Mia that relocated victims of sex trafficking. Years ago I’d worked with Mia during a handoff. When Cole had learned what Mia had been doing during the twenty-year separation he wasn’t happy she’d routinely put herself in danger. Though it hadn’t taken him long to come to the understanding not only was Mia doing good work but she was competent as well. Pete and Mason had taken it upon themselves to dissolve the company Mia had worked to help build. Gauging the look on her pretty face they’d told her their plans to start a new business venture sans her.

The woman looked murderous.

On her wedding day no less.

Atlee helped her grandmother—fucking hell, her grandmother—into the vacant chair next to me, doing her best to avoid my gaze.

“Hi, everyone, nice to meet you.”

I wasn’t sure if the uncertainty in her voice was because she was nervous about meeting the ‘gang’ as Mrs. S had called us or if it was because we’d spent the night together exploring the boundaries of filthy, dirty sex.

Conversation around me resumed, however, it was nothing more than white noise as last night’s activities replayed in my mind. An erotic loop of Atlee’s sweet moans and lewd pleas. Christ, I’d never forget the way her innocent brown eyes had glazed over with pleasure when she rode me or the way they watered when I’d finally gotten my dick in her mouth. The woman was phenomenal. Which was part of the reason I’d been pissed waking up in an empty bed. I’d debated blowing off breakfast and waiting for her to return but reality had quickly crept in, reminding me I had no business asking Atlee for another night. Hell, after the ten minutes I’d spent with her at the bar drinking I should’ve made my exit. It was obvious she’d never taken a man home with the sole purpose of fucking him. She was unintentionally sexy which made her irresistible. She’d flirted but it was unpracticed. Add in her quick wit and pretty smile and I was powerless to walk away.

And that right there should’ve been the biggest reason to leave her alone.

I was not a man who liked to feel powerless.

I’d spent the last twelve years holding onto power and control with a death grip.

“Wilson, dear.” Mrs. S put her hand over mine resting on the table. “Tomorrow if you have time I’d like to show you something.”

I bit back a groan.

We all indulged the old woman and her many conspiracy theories and alien sighting stories. Mainly because we adored her but also because one time one of those theories wasn’t so much conspiracy as it was an underground trafficking ring. One that Letty and River had been able to expose and shut down.

“What time?” I asked.

I heard Atlee make a choking sound.

“Good Lord, child, do you need Wilson to provide you with the Heimlich?”

“No!” Atlee damn near shouted. “Sorry, Gram. I mean, no thank you. I’m fine.”

Mrs. Simpson’s head slowly turned from her granddaughter to me then back to Atlee. I didn’t miss the smile.

“Let’s make it lunch. All you young people will need to sleep in after the reception. Which reminds me, Wilson, would you be a gentleman and give my Atlee a ride home after the party? Those Uber things can be dangerous.”

There was nothing gentlemanly about what I’d done with Atlee. That was if you didn’t consider making sure she took her pleasure before I’d taken mine.

“Gram, I’m going home with you.”

“Nonsense. I won’t make it to the cake cutting. River will drive me home early. You’ll stay and have fun.” Then without missing a beat Mrs. Simpson informed me of something I was very aware of. “She’s staying at the resort.”

“I thought I was—”

“My guest room isn’t as comfortable as the resort. And besides, you said that last night was perfect.”

“I said the room was perfect,” Atlee rushed to amend.

The room was nice, the mirrored wall behind the bed a bonus, but it wasn’t the room that had made last night perfect.

Without my confirmation Mrs. Simpson announced, “Wilson will take you home.”

Before I could come up with a plausible excuse as to why I wouldn’t be taking the very tempting Atlee home the waitress was there to take our orders.

“What just happened?” Asher leaned closer to quietly ask.

My worst nightmare was what just happened.

In all of the years I’d been working with my team I’d been careful never to mix business with pleasure. None of the men I worked with had ever seen me with a woman nor had they clapped eyes on a woman I’d spent time with.

This was by design.

My private life was just that—private.

Until Atlee.

I had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.