He lifted his chin before heading toward the front door. He paused, touching the alarm panel before muttering, “Not surprised she had a security system and doorbell camera to rival a bank vault.”

“It’s good?”

“One of the best available. Fastest response time.” His lips quirked as he amended, “For commercially available.”

Safe for me and Squish.

Exactly what I need.

“You have the passcode?” he asked.

I had the instructions on how to reset it, but that was basically the same thing, so I nodded.

He walked outside, and my attempt to follow was promptly shut down. First by a look, then by him outright telling me to accept the help and stop being a pain in the ass.

He said it while grinning his dimpled smile, so he didn’t actually seem upset, but I took the warning and waited by the door. I studied his retreating back—more specifically, the emblem on the leather vest. A skull and crossed gavels with the name Court of Mayhem.

I knew nothing about biker clubs, but it was a cool name and a very coordinated design.

I didn’t bother to give him my thoughts on the artistic design when he returned with the tote that’d been giving me so much trouble.

“Where do you want this?”

I gestured to the living room. “Everything can just go in here.”

Another look. “Where?”

“I’m not even sure what’s in anything, so really, right here is fine.”

For once, he listened and set the load down. But only so he could open it for my inspection. I glanced in to see a variety of patterns and colors.

“Bedroom,” I said.

The next load included a collapsible baby bassinet and a small tote of tiny baby clothes. I just pointed him toward the bedroom again.

I’d almost choked on my own saliva. I didn’t need to choke on emotion, too.

We continued like that, making quick work of unloading the mismatched cargo.

I’d thought we had finished when Hollywood came in with a couple of pink shopping bags. He didn’t stop to ask where they went. Blank faced, he carried them into the bedroom and dropped them to the bed before hightailing it out of there.

I peered around his wide body to see a pile of lace and satin had spilled out onto the patchwork comforter. My face heated instantly, but neither of us spoke about it.

Thank God.

“That was the last of what’s in the back,” he said before clearing his throat. “Saw a couple things in the front. I’ll grab ’em and be done.”

“No!” I cried with far too much urgency than the moment called for. Especially as he’d just carried in bags of my unmentionables—even if they were new and unused. “I can grab that.”

He let it drop. “You got another truck coming with furniture and shit?”