“Go easy on him!” Joanna warns from the doorway. “He’s still healing from two gunshots.”
“I’ll take his shit to the car,” Nash says as he throws Fiasco’s clothes and all into his bag. On the way out of the bedroom, he pulls a thick envelope from his back pocket and hands it to his sister. Not that she knows that yet. Maybe he’s never going to tell her.
“You’ve already paid me plenty,” Joanna says.
“Take it,” Nash insists. “For the time you missed from work and meds you had to steal. Least we can do.”
The rest of us know that it’s more than that – Lucy told Nash that Joanna’s bank account was low and that her mortgage was two months late.
“Thank you,” the woman finally agrees before she takes the envelope.
“No, thank you,” Nash replies before he walks out of the room with Fiasco’s things.
“If you all have any other medical emergencies, you know where to find me,” Joanna says, which is nice of her to offer.
“You’re a goddamn saint,” Malcolm says, kissing her cheek on the way out with Silas and Devlin behind him.
“What the fuck am I supposed to wear home?” Fiasco asks when he looks around and all his clothes are gone.
“Hold on,” Joanna says before she goes to the closet, Fiasco watching her just as closely as before whenever I visited. Pulling out a blue robe, she takes it over to Fiasco and helps him put his arms in it.
“Nice look, man,” I tease him. “Now let’s go,” I say when I start for the door, in a hurry to get back to my woman, who is at the pool hall with the rest of the old ladies, preparing a welcome back bash for Fiasco.
“At least you’re all covered up now,” Joanna says to Fiasco. Glancing over my shoulder, I see her pulling the two sides of the robe together and then Fiasco’s hands shoot out, cradling her face in his hands to kiss her.
I should’ve kept walking, but I’m too stunned to look away.
It’s a surprisingly gentle, sweet kiss, one that goes on and on until there’s definite moaning coming from both of them.
Holy shit.
“Fiasco!” I yell to get his attention before the other guys come back.
Both of them jump like they didn’t realize they had an audience to their moment. Joanna’s face is flushed as she takes a step back while Fiasco doesn’t seem inclined to leave.
“Come on, buddy,” I say when I go over to grab his elbow and urge him along. “You’re still surviving two gunshot wounds. No reason to make Nash add a third or a fourth.”
“It would be worth it,” Fiasco says.
“What?” Joanna asks. “Why would Nash care…”
“Ah, see ya, Joanna. Thanks again for everything!” I call back before hurrying Fiasco out of the house. I’d rather not start answering questions today and avoid whatever fallout might come from Fiasco, Joanna, and Nash all airing out their laundry.
Although, I get the feeling that it’s only a matter of time before that shit goes down and takes a piece of the Dirty Aces MC with it.
The End for Now…
Coming Soon
Thank you so much for reading Wirth!
Fiasco’s story is up next! Order your copy now!
About the Authors
New York Times bestselling author Lane Hart and husband D.B. West were both born and raised in North Carolina. They still live in the south with their two daughters and enjoy spending the summers on the beach and watching football in the fall.
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