I'm Only Here for the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #4)(72)

         
       
        

"What?" I asked, standing up and heading to the wall where the switch for the fan was and flipped it on and off a few times to see if it was just off.

It wasn't.

Sean had purchased a repossessed mobile home from an auction and had moved it to the land that I now called my own-my own with Sean-a few weeks after I was released from the hospital.

It was the biggest piece of shit that I'd ever lived in, and that was even including my own shitty humble abode where I'd stayed for the first few months of my time in Mooresville. But it was mine and Sean's, and I loved it.

We'd broken ground on a small country-style pier and beam home that was expected to be finished mid next year.

I could see the level pad from the window I was standing next to, and every time I saw the progress of it, I got even more excited.

Sean passed my window again, his face dripping with sweat.

He was wearing faded tight blue jeans, a brown leather belt, his black motorcycle boots, and a frown.

Sweat dripped down the tight planes of his abs, and his eyes were covered in a pair of aviator sunglasses that were literally so damn sexy on him that I wanted to run out and jump on him.

My luck, though, he'd just push me off of him and apologize for doing nothing like he always did.

"Are you even listening to me?" Aspen growled.

My lips twitched. "Yes, sorry, keep going."

"The man that does the dogs is actually part of the Dixie Wardens, but they're out of Benton, Louisiana," she said. "His name is Trance. There's a member's wife that trains the dogs once they're a little older. Helps them become protection dogs."

My lips tipped up into a full-out grin as I made my way down the hall to the kitchen.

Grabbing one of the dusting towels out of the drawer next to the fridge, I headed back into the bedroom and stepped up onto the bed.

The ceiling fan had to be cleaned. If it wasn't going to work, I wasn't going to stare at that disgusting sight.

"You know who I think you need to talk to?" Aspen asked suddenly. "PD."

My brows furrowed.

"What?" I asked in confusion. "Why would I talk to him?"

"Because his wife had her arm lopped off with a sword, and she almost lost their child." She informed me of something I already knew. "If anyone knows what Sean is going through, it's him. He almost lost her multiple times, and he's a man. I'm not a man, so I really wouldn't know what Sean is feeling. I've told you all of the things that I would do, and if those aren't working, then I think you need expert advice." 

I blinked, then nodded my head in understanding.

Putting the phone onto speaker, I thrust it into my bra and stretched my arms up over my head

"That's true," I said as I started to clean the blades, gagging slightly when dust fell into my hair. "But I think talking to another man will piss Sean off."

"It will piss Sean off."

I squeaked, whipping around, and in the process jolted the ceiling fan, causing every single piece of dust that was left on it to fall to the bed.

My body teetered on the edge of the bed, and he steadied me with two hands on my hips.

It also fell all over me, and I shivered.

"Jesus Christ, Sean," I gasped, placing my dust rag over my heart. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Why do you need to talk to another man when you have me to talk to?"

Sean's words stopped me cold.

"I gotta go, Aspen," I said, dropping the rag to the floor. "Sean just walked in."

Before Aspen could reply, I fished the phone out of my bra, hit end, and then tossed it to the now dirty bed.

Sean crossed his arms over his sweaty chest, and I swallowed thickly.

The man was gorgeous, even when he was pissed.

And he was pissed. His eyes were hard, his mouth was set in a thin line, and he was breathing heavy despite being in the best shape of any man I knew.

"What are you doing up there?" he asked.

There was so much inferred calm in his tone, and I narrowed my eyes.

"I'm cleaning. What does it look like I'm doing?" I snapped.

His jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth.

Anything that looked even remotely dangerous to the man had him getting this feral 'you won't do it' attitude about him that was seriously getting on my nerves.

"You ready to go?" he asked, staring at me like I was crazy.

I nodded. "Almost. Should I be wearing my boots?"

He shook his head, and I growled. "Sean!"

"What?" he snapped.

"I want to ride your bike with you!"

He was already shaking his head.

"Sean, I'm not spun glass. You can't treat me like I'm an infant who's going to fall over and bump her head around every turn. Treat me like an adult! Please!" I cried out, waving my hand with the dust rag around as I spoke, causing dust particles to float in the air around us.