Seeing him holding his nephew had momentarily thrown me off my game. Anyone would find a hardened biker cooing over a baby a little disconcerting. Couple that with the fact that most women find a man with a baby the equivalent of emotional kryptonite, and it was no wonder I had been unnerved. Recognizing Bishop’s paternal side was probably the first time I allowed myself to really see him as a person—one whose love for his family and friends was the reasoning he used to justify some of the illegal and immoral things he did.

Somehow I had managed to get my game face back on. He had taken the bait when I played him like a fool by overtly coming on to him, but he seemed conflicted by an inner turmoil. I had expected him to be the type of man who didn’t give two shits about whether a woman was already involved with someone else—that he would see nothing wrong with taking me from Marley. After all, Bishop was an officer in the club, and to the Raiders, Gavin was no one. I’d read sickening articles where some MCs ordered prospects to let them “break in” their wives and girlfriends. If they didn’t comply, then they were thrown out. In the back of my mind, I had built up an image of Bishop being that despicable.

But Bishop had surprised me by backing off as many times as he did. I had to spend only five minutes with him to realize he could never be as horrible as I had envisioned him. In the end, he would be tougher to break than I thought because he possessed a moral compass I hadn’t originally anticipated.

It was that very moral compass that unnerved me. For the first time in my career, I had encountered a tiny amount of dread in the pit of my stomach about continuing the case. Usually, after I spent a few hours undercover, I was champing at the bit to get back in the field to bring the bad guy down. In my mind, tonight had somewhat blurred the lines, and I knew that I needed to get ahold of myself pronto. I had to remember that while Bishop had somehow evaded jail time with just probation, he was still a criminal, and criminals had to be punished.

Gavin eased the bike off the main road into the almost-deserted Waffle House parking lot. Through the window, we could see where Peterson sat at a booth—his shirt and tie slightly disheveled after the long day. Since we hadn’t been wired, Peterson had set up this late-night debriefing to ensure that nothing, not even the smallest detail, went unanalyzed.

After I slid off the back of the bike and took off my helmet, I turned around to find Gavin staring expectantly at me. “What?” I demanded.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the clubhouse.”

“Excuse me for not realizing I needed to converse with you. For fuck’s sake, I’ve been on a motorcycle going sixty down a country road. If I’d opened my mouth, I would have caught a bunch of bugs in my teeth.”

When I started for the building, Gavin didn’t follow me. Whirling around, I growled, “You’re seriously starting to piss me off, McTavish!”

“I just want to hear you say it before we go in.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I asked, “And what is it exactly that I’m supposed to say? If it’s ‘thank you’ for earlier, then by all means thank you for letting me get my shit together and for not ratting me out to Peterson.”

Gavin closed the gap between us. “Nope. That’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it?” I eyed him suspiciously. “Did they slip something into your drink at the roadhouse to make you act so fucking weird?”

The corners of Gavin’s lips twitched as though he was fighting a smile. “Admit it. You liked Bishop.”

My heartbeat drummed so loudly in my chest that I was sure Gavin must have heard it. How the hell had he been able to sense my dilemma? Playing it cool, I questioned, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes, but I’m trying to process why in the hell you would say such a thing out of nowhere.”

“The reason you were so quiet on the way over here is that your mind was racing. I can always tell when you’re overanalyzing something.”

With an eye roll, I said, “You’re so full of shit.”

“After all that thinking, you realized that at the end of the day, you found Bishop Malloy completely different from how you had perceived him. And though you were on a job, you still found that you enjoyed yourself there tonight.”

I slowly shook my head in disbelief. While my anxiety sent a cold rush pricking down my spine, I masked any inner turmoil I felt with a totally impassive expression on the outside. Although Gavin and I both knew each other inside and out, I still couldn’t believe he had been able to guess what I was feeling so easily. I sure as hell hoped I wasn’t becoming transparent, because the last thing I needed was for Peterson to ride my ass about it.

“Once again, you’re full of shit,” I said.

Holding up his hands defensively, Gavin said, “Look, it’s all right to like him, Sam. He’s a helluva likable guy with a good sense of humor. I’ve seen that for myself since I’ve been spending time with him.”

“But it’s different for you.”

Gavin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

I sighed and kicked one of the loose pieces of gravel with my boot. “If I like him, there’s a different set of issues than there is for you.”

“Because he’s straight, and you’re coming on to him to get the job done?”

“Yep. That pretty much sums it up.”

Gavin grinned at me. “I just said you liked the guy, Vargas, not that you were ready to have his babies.”