Page 13

13

Legacy

I’m surprised I don’t burn a hole in the bathroom door with my stare because I can’t look away.

What the fuck was I thinking following Reagan into my bedroom at the clubhouse?

I could have easily shown her where my room was and left her to do what she needed. But I can’t tear myself away from this girl.

What if I turned my back and something happened?

The clubhouse is safe, but there are townies here tonight. And after Reina’s less than welcoming territorial display the other day, I can’t risk leaving her alone.

Besides, she’s my daughter’s nanny. Bea would be devastated if she bailed because I sat back and let something bad happen. That’s the only reason I’m sitting here, gripping the comforter like it will hold me back.

At least, that’s what I tell myself .

But when the door swings open and Reagan’s gaze locks on mine from across the room, I’m not stupid enough to believe my own lies.

Her delicate fingers trace over the front of her dress. It hugs her chest before flowing out at the hips. My hands could slip right up it to grip her silky thighs. We could fall into this, and I could be the person to break her free from the restrictions she’s spent her life adhering to. We could ignore the blood on my hands and pretend that, for just one night, I’m good enough for her.

These are dangerous thoughts, and probably one-sided as Reagan breaks our staring contest to look around the room.

My blood pumps as her eyes sweep the space, assessing my room in a way I don’t think any other woman has.

I’m desperate to know what she’s thinking. To know if she sees me as the man this club makes me or if she thinks there could be more.

“Your brothers seem nice.” She takes a step closer while keeping far enough away that I can’t reach out and make any bad decisions.

“You and Soul seemed to be getting along.”

“We were.” Her golden-brown stare lands on me. “But I get the impression he was just feeling me out to figure out my intentions.”

“You noticed that?”

Most people write Soul off as a gambling flirt, but Reagan is observant enough to see the truth. There’s a lot that lives beneath his surface. He wields his charms like a weapon when needed. While he was flirting with Reagan to piss me off, he was also deciding what he thinks of her and if she’s worth the club trusting.

“Soul is cautious of outsiders, but he has the best interests of the club in mind. He looks out for his brothers,” I explain.

She hums, watching me. But she doesn’t ask me for any details, just like she didn’t ask why I came home covered in someone’s blood. Reagan makes her own assessment and decides whether she needs more of an explanation or not.

If I had to guess, it’s because her family raised her not to question them.

“So are you not as weary about outsiders as Soul is then?” she asks, her eyes narrowing fractionally.

“Why do you ask that?”

She shrugs. “You and Chaos seemed to be skipping the interrogation with those girls earlier.”

A smirk climbs my cheeks when I realize there’s jealousy blazing in her eyes. The rosy blush climbing her neck gives her away, and it’s stunning.

I should probably change the subject before this turns into a conversation she doesn’t want to hear, but with her attention on me, I want to test the boundaries of my honesty with this girl to see if she can handle it.

“It’s not that I trust them, but they’re not living here like you are. It’s different.”

“Just sex.” It sounds harsh, even if there’s no judgment in her tone.

“It’s a means to an end.” And pathetic, I realize, as I hear myself say it out loud to a girl who deserves a hell of a lot more from a man than I can offer.

“Hence the room at the clubhouse.” She looks around. “Separation of church and state. The biker and the father.”

It’s nearly a whisper from her lips, but it hangs in the air, floating between us.

“Are you trying to put the pieces of me together, Reagan Brady?”

“No.” Her gorgeous gaze snaps to mine. “I understand all the pieces already, Jesse.”

My tongue swells. “Good to know.”

“But can I be blunt?”

“Are you capable of being anything but blunt?”

She certainly doesn’t hold her tongue when it comes to me.

“Being blunt is better than being dishonest.” She shrugs.

“Guess you’re right.” I chuckle.

Reagan walks forward, sitting beside me on the bed. There’s enough of a gap that I can breathe, but her perfume wafts through the air as she pulls her hair back.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you trying to keep this world separate from Bea. I respect it.” Her thick lashes sweep down as she glances at the floor. “But I think at some point, you’re going to have to reconcile the different sides of yourself. Because I’m not having trouble putting the halves of you together, but I get the feeling you are. ”

I swallow hard as she blinks up at me. “Bea didn’t deserve to be born into a world like this.”

Reagan reaches for my hand on the bed, planting her palm over the back of it.

She’s warm.

She’s light.

She’s the sun breaking over the horizon after the storm.

“Maybe this is exactly what she deserves, Jesse. A father who loves her—who will protect her with all he has. A club that will go to the ends of the earth to make sure she is cared for and protected regardless of what happens. I think you keep waiting for the two sides of your life to split you apart. But you’re all of it, and Bea sees and understands that more than you think. She worries when you’re late because she senses there’s danger in what you do, but she’s never scared because she knows she’s safe with you.”

“She said that?”

Reagan offers a half-hearted smile. “She doesn’t have to. To her, you’re just Dad. She’s not judging you like you judge yourself. She’s a smart cookie, after all.”

I have a thousand thoughts battling, but all I can say is, “Thanks for looking out for my girl.”

“Of course.”

Her fingers rest over mine as she keeps the space between us. Everything about Reagan is a bad idea.

She’s strings, and I’m the scissors.

She’s perseverance, and I’m ruin .

My room at the clubhouse is usually stale and empty, but she fills it with the scent of honey and summer rain. Daisies blooming.

“I should let you get back to your date.” She pulls her hand away, snapping my brain back into focus.

“My date?” My eyebrows pinch, and then I realize she’s talking about the blonde who’s been standing around me all night. “She’s not my date.”

“Whatever you call them.” She pops up to stand. “I’m not judging you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I should probably say something comforting so she stops looking at me like I’m a fuckboy or a piece of shit, but she’d just see through it.

So I opt for the truth instead. “Fucking is easy when anything more risks letting another woman break Bea’s heart.”

She nods. “Scratch the itch and walk away.”

“It’s better not to look for anything permanent.” I stand up, facing her.

Warning her.

Because Reagan isn’t temporary. She’s the kind of girl who sticks to your senses. The kind of girl worth way more than I’m capable of giving her. But if she doesn’t walk away, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.

Those eyes.

That sweetness.

I’m going to eat away at it until there’s nothing left.

Reagan tips her chin up, cementing herself in place when she should be running .

“Be careful always fortifying those walls, Jesse King. Being a fortress might feel safe for a little while, but loneliness is worse at the end of the day.”

“I’m not lonely.”

“I’m not talking about sex.” Her throat works as she swallows. “Bea’s not the only one who deserves love.”

“And what about you?” I challenge her, stepping closer as her gravity draws me in. “You have a lot of thoughts on loneliness and sex, but you just walked out on your life. Aren’t you lonely yourself, Reagan?”

“Are you asking me if I have a boyfriend back home?”

“You don’t,” I say confidently.

“You sure?”

I step closer. Too close. I can’t help it.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Because if you did, there’s no way he wouldn’t have shown up by now.”

Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. “Why do you say that?”

“Because any man smart enough to make you his wouldn’t be dumb enough to let you go.”

Her eyes blink back her emotion.

This is why I can never actually have a woman like Reagan. She might be cut from the universe like she was made just for me, but claiming her—bringing her into this world when she has a chance at more—would be worse than what I’m doing to Bea.

Not that I can think straight at the moment. Reagan’s sharp breath fills her chest. Heat blushes her skin, and her nipples peak under the thin fabric at her bust. And even if I can’t have her, I need to breathe her in for a second.

I need just enough air in my lungs to survive when she leaves, and I go back under.

“Jesse—”

My name on her lips is the final straw because I can’t handle what crawls up inside me when I hear it. I grab the back of her head and thread my fingers through her silky, blonde hair, dipping down to claim her lips before she can finish her thought.

She tastes like the earth warming at the beginning of summer. Like morning breaking through an endless night. Too bad this is Vegas, and anything left out in the sun too long is bound to burn.