Edge of Tomorrow, Arrow’s Edge MC, Book Three

Solitude and motor oil meets soul food and wariness.

I’m a grease-stained enigma.
A watcher, a protector, an ex-con, and a mechanic.

My name is Brick.
I’m old enough to know good things come to those who wait, and hungry enough to go after what I want.

I am a proud independent.
A nurturer, a cook, a casualty, and a grandparent.

My name is Lisa.
I’m cautious enough to keep my distance, and too wise to let a chance at love pass me by.

We seem unmatched—in race, in history, in lifestyle—but when tragedy leaves a baby in our care and a target on our backs, we discover the strength of family.

My little girl jumps up from the couch and runs to him, wrapping her arms around his legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brick. Are you sad?” She tilts her head back and Brick picks her up.

“Yeah, Princess. I am.” He walks over to the couch with Kiara perched on his hip, doing the chin lift thing with Ezrah, who is watching the older man closely. “Thanks for lettin’ me sleep,” he says with a forced little smile for me as he sits down, my little girl on his lap. Then he turns his attention to the baby. “How is he?”

“He’s a good baby.”

“I was helping Nana change his diaper and he pulled my braid,” Kiara pipes up, startling the little boy.

“Inside voice,” I remind her.

“Oops. But it didn’t hurt,” she finishes telling Brick in a stage whisper. This time his smile seems more genuine.

I remember that too, the guilt every time you felt something other than grief.

“Here, why don’t you two look after this peanut and I’ll finish up dinner?”

Bits of conversation filter through while I throw together a salad and get Ezrah to set the table. But I stop to listen when I hear Kiara ask something.

“Are you gonna stay here too?”

“Would that be okay with you? If I stayed on the couch for a bit?”

“Sure,” my honest-as-the-day-is-long granddaughter replies. “But Nana’s got a real big bed. If you ask her nice, I’m sure she’d let you sleep there.”

My gaze flits to Ezrah, who is also suddenly all ears.

“Thanks, Princess. I’ll start on the couch, but if I don’t like it, I’ll be sure to ask your nana real nice.”

He twists his head and his gray eyes pin me to the spot.

Oh, Lordy.

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