Page 42 of Desert Sky (RB MC #4)
SKYE
T he scent of fresh-cut grass mingled with the buttery perfume of popcorn and hot dogs from the concession stand.
The sun was dipping low behind the desert mountains, casting a warm golden hue over the Little League field, while kids in oversized jerseys scurried around the bases like it was the World Series.
Dust kicked up with every step, the sound of aluminum bats cracking against balls reverberating through the warm air.
I sat quietly on the metal bleachers, my sunglasses pulled down low, hiding more than just the glare.
Because what I couldn’t hide was the ache in my chest.
JD stood at home plate in a navy blue coach’s cap, bent at the knees, crouched to talk to Jackson, who looked so much like him it made my breath hitch.
Same stubborn jaw, same intense eyes. My son beamed up at him like JD had hung the moon.
JD returned the grin with a high five and a pat on the helmet, then turned and gave the rest of the team a pump-up speech before they ran onto the field.
The entire Royal Bastards MC filled the stands like they owned the place—Edge with his arms folded, looking stoic but proud.
Tarak in a leather vest over a baseball tee, tossing popcorn into his mouth and throwing mock boos at the ump.
River leaned on the fence, shades pushed up, a half-smile playing on his lips like he’d just bet money on Jackson’s team winning.
Even Colton and Cal were there, cowboy hats and all, waving to Jackson every time he glanced over.
They were loud. They were rowdy. And somehow, they belonged.
Amber and Regan sat beside me, both in dark sunglasses and tight tanks, laughing like the clubhouse was just an extension of the bleachers. Regan passed me a soda and smirked. “This game is missing only one thing,” she said, voice teasing.
I raised a brow.
She nodded toward JD. “Him shirtless. Those arms? Lawd.”
“Regan,” Amber hissed, laughing, and nudged her. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
I smiled, but it was tight. Because just then, a familiar voice chimed from the sidelines, a little too melodic to be welcome.
Evie.
Her hair was glossy in the sun, dark waves falling over her shoulder like a shampoo commercial.
She leaned against the fence near the dugout, waving to a kid who called, “Aunt Evie!”—her nephew, apparently.
But it wasn’t the boy she kept watching.
Her eyes locked on JD like she was starving and he was her next meal.
She didn’t know about me. About Jackson. About the history written in every glance between JD and me. She only saw what was in front of her—a man who had once taken her on a few dates, a man who was freshly single, maybe.
She sidled up close, smiling too wide at something JD said. My nails dug into my palms. I couldn’t hear them, but I didn’t need to. Her body language was clear. She wanted him.
And he didn’t move away.
I was a stranger on the sidelines of my own life. A ghost in sunglasses, pretending this didn’t rip me apart. Regan noticed. She leaned in and whispered, “Want me to accidentally spill a snow cone on her? I’m pretty clumsy.”
I huffed a laugh but shook my head. “Not worth it.”
Amber squeezed my hand gently. “You’re playing the long game, baby girl. You already have what she wants—his heart. He just doesn’t realize it again yet.”
The game played out like a fever dream. Jackson made a base hit, slid into third like a pro, and the crowd roared. JD lifted him off the base after the inning and spun him in a circle. I blinked back tears behind my glasses. It was too much.
Afterward, someone shouted, “ICE CREAM!” and the whole club decided to descend on the local creamery like an army of leather, denim, and sugar cravings.
We piled into trucks, the kids riding with Cal and Colton, who let them stick their heads out the sunroof like puppies.
Regan and Amber rode with Tarak and River, who argued over waffle cones versus sundaes.
I was about to offer to ride solo when JD walked up beside me, his voice low. “You coming?”
I hesitated. “You sure?”
He looked away, jaw ticking. “For Jackson.”
And for that moment, it was enough.
The creamery’s line was chaos—sticky fingers, kids screeching over sprinkles, and biker boots clunking across linoleum floors.
Jackson was somewhere up front with Cal and Colton, arguing over two scoops or three while JD leaned over the counter, charming the girl with the apron into giving him a taste sample of every damn flavor.
I felt her presence before I saw her. Evie.
All legs, glossy hair, and fire-engine red lips.
She wore a tank dress tight enough to get arrested and walked in like she owned the place.
Like she had every right to stand there beside JD and smile up at him.
My blood boiled as I watched her laugh at something he said.
Her hand brushed his arm. It was light. Effortless. And it made my stomach twist.
I gritted my teeth and excused myself, my heart jackhammering in my chest. The cool of the bathroom felt like a slap. I braced both hands on the sink, trying to breathe.
The door creaked open behind me.
“I was wondering if you'd run in here,” Evie's voice floated in. “Got something to say?”
I turned slowly, facing her. “Yeah, actually. You need to back off JD.”
She arched a brow, her red lips curling in a half-smile. “You mean the JD you ghosted? The JD you abandoned without a damn word? That JD?”
I flinched, but held her gaze. “I left to protect our son. You don't know anything about what really happened.”
“Sure,” she scoffed, stepping closer. “And now that he's back in your life, you just expect everything to go back to how it was? You think showing up with a sad little story and a kid is enough?”
I swallowed. “You don’t understand. JD and I… we were everything to each other once. ”
Evie leaned in. “He’s single. And sexy. And broken in all the right places. I like broken things. I fix them.” She smirked. “You had your shot, girl. And you blew it.”
“I’m not going to fight you,” I whispered, trying to hold onto my dignity.
She tilted her head. “You should. Because I’ve decided I want him. And you? You’re going to have to fight like hell to get him back.”
Her heels clicked as she turned and left, leaving me breathless, furious—and terrified.
Because deep down, I knew… she wasn’t bluffing.
I stared into the mirror, trying to slow the angry, ragged breaths escaping my chest. My knuckles were white where they gripped the edges of the creamery’s porcelain sink. Evie’s words echoed like a chorus of demons in my head.
“He’s single. And you? You were the dumb bitch who let him go.”
God, she was right. Maybe not about the bitch part. But about me letting him go? About not fighting hard enough?
Outside the bathroom door, I could hear the low hum of conversation, laughter, JD’s voice lifting above the rest as he teased Jackson over the sprinkles dumped into his sundae. It sounded like a life I’d dreamed about every night for six years.
And now it was here.
But I wasn’t sure if I still belonged in it.
The door creaked open and Regan slipped inside, her glossy ponytail swishing behind her, eyes laser sharp as she took me in. “You okay, Red?”
I gave her a look. “You were listening?”
She didn’t even blink. “You think I’m gonna leave you in a bathroom alone with Evie? Bitch watches too much Revenge . What’d she say? ”
I swallowed. “She’s not backing down. She’s not scared of me.”
Regan smirked, reached for the paper towels. “She should be.”
“I’m not gonna get in a catfight at a creamery.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that,” she said lightly, but there was steel in her voice. “But you are going to walk out there with your shoulders back, your head up, and remind everyone—including JD—that you are not some scared girl hiding in a trailer anymore.”
“I don’t know if he wants me like that anymore,” I whispered. “Not after what I did. What I kept from him.”
Regan crumpled the towel and tossed it. “He still looks at you like you hung the moon. That man’s just angry and confused. You give him clarity, and he’ll follow you anywhere.”
My lip trembled. “I miss him. I miss… us.”
She grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror. “Then go fight for your family.”
I nodded slowly. Wiped my tears. Straightened my blouse.
And together, we walked out into the warm twilight of the creamery’s patio—where JD stood near the ice cream counter, Jackson perched on a bench beside him, chocolate smeared across his chin.
Evie sat across from them, legs crossed, laughing at something Colton said.
JD’s eyes lifted. Found mine.
The world stilled for a beat.
Then I walked toward him. Toward them.
And this time, I wasn’t running.