Page 5

5

Reagan

Bea runs up the stairs so fast that she almost trips on one. “I’ll get the dolls. You get the teacups.”

I have no idea where Jesse keeps teacups or if Bea’s referring to toys buried in a giant bin in the living room, but I can’t help smiling at her excitement.

We spent the morning coloring, playing on the swings, and watching a movie. But it seems she’s gotten a second wind after lunch because she’s been running circles around the house like a little tornado while I chase after her and try to keep the mess under control.

At first, I thought Beatrice King must run on an endless supply of energy, but then she made a comment about how Margaret used to be able to play outside with her, and the past tense weighed heavy in the room.

If the exhaustion that seeped out of Aunt Margaret when she returned from her appointment this morning is any indication, she hasn’t had the energy to entertain Bea the way she used to. I get the impression Bea needs a little attention.

My heart hurts as I watch the back of her blonde head disappear around the corner. I wish my presence was enough to fix the bigger things at play here. Her slowly losing Margaret. Her father silently struggling to fill the role. Her general loneliness. At least I gather there’s no shortage of love in her life. Bea lights up every time she talks about her father.

He’s a biker, yet somehow, he’s also a man who shows his daughter the kind of unconditional love I thought was made-up when my parents always had strings attached to theirs.

Bea is the one person Jesse is the slightest bit softer for.

Unlike how he is with me—cold, clipped, and to the point. Proven by his short texts earlier.

Jesse : How’s Bea?

Reagan : Running around like a hurricane. We played in the backyard, but it got too hot without a shade over the porch, so we came inside and colored while we watched a movie. Then she read me a book. Smart cookie you’ve got here.

Jesse : Thanks.

He couldn’t be less friendly if he tried. The man is downright difficult, and while that should put me off, it only makes me that much more determined to prove to him that I can be the help he needs around here.

For Bea’s sake.

For mine .

There’s nothing for me to go back to.

I swallow that thought as the doorbell rings. Jesse didn’t mention anyone stopping by, so I can’t imagine who it is.

Jesse might not want me answering his door, but I can’t make them stand there wondering, so I walk over and swing it open to find Luna and a brunette smiling at me.

It’s a warm relief when I’ve been faced with Jesse’s cold frowns for the past twenty-four hours.

“Luna.” I smile.

Before last night, it felt like a lifetime since I’d seen her. We were friends as teenagers, but when she moved out of the area with a new foster family, I assumed I’d never see her again. I’ve never been so happy to be proven wrong.

Luna was always someone real in a sea of fake niceties. She was a genuine friend.

Luna holds up a bottle of tequila and margarita mix. “Figured I’d drop by with some reinforcements. I thought you might need it after Legacy was such a ball of fun yesterday. This is Steel’s old lady, Tempe.”

She tips her head in the brunette’s direction.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Tempe beams as a little boy rushes past them and darts into the house.

“Austin!” Bea’s excitement is palpable.

Her little footsteps echo like a stampede as she darts from her room and down the stairs to meet him at the door. They nearly collide, but just when I think they’re going to hug, they stop short, face-to-face. Bea twists her fingers in front of her as they stare at each other.

“Hi.” He waves, dipping his gaze .

It’s so cute and awkward that I can’t help but smile at the innocence of being that age.

“Want to come play?” Bea asks him. “I found the super raptors we were looking for.”

“Yes!” He pumps a fist in the air, and without asking, they both run up the stairs.

“I see I’ve been traded in for someone else.” I laugh, turning back to Luna and Tempe.

Tempe shakes her head, circling around me to let herself in. “That’s how it goes with those two. They’re tied at the hip.”

Luna follows Tempe into the house, and I close the door behind them. When we reach the kitchen, they get to work making themselves at home. Pulling up stools and unpacking a bag of limes. Luna finds the silverware drawer and grabs a cutting board to start slicing.

It’s domestic and the opposite of how it was being at the clubhouse last night.

“So…” I circle the island, searching cabinets for the right glasses, and finally finding them in the last one. “Steel is in the same club as Ghost and Jesse—I mean, Legacy?”

His biker name feels weird to say when I’ve always thought of him as Jesse from my conversations with Margaret. But I realize that Luna referred to her boyfriend as Ghost when I met him, and she called Tempe’s man Steel, so it might be some unspoken thing with bikers to call them by those names.

“Steel’s the president.” Luna nudges Tempe’s arm, and Tempe smiles, shaking her head .

“The president?”

“It sounds scarier than it is, but it’s just a title. Jameson’s happy to have you here to help Legacy out.”

Hearing Tempe call Steel by his real name is a hint of normalcy that makes them feel a little more human. Besides, if Steel sent Tempe and Luna here to welcome me, it’s thoughtful considering how resistant Jesse has been to the matter. It’s something you’d do for family, which makes me wonder if that’s how they see it.

I set the glasses on the counter, and Luna starts pouring. She’s light on the tequila, which I appreciate since I don’t need Jesse to have any more reasons to think I won’t be responsible with his daughter. There’s barely a splash. Just enough for flavor.

“So you two are the welcoming committee?” I ask, taking a sip.

“I guess we are.” Tempe shrugs. “Hopefully we’re better than the greeting you got at the clubhouse last night. I heard Legacy was a bit of a…”

“Jerk,” I finish her sentence when she doesn’t.

Tempe laughs. “Yeah… Jerk. I didn’t know he had that in him, to be honest. He’s usually one of the less grumpy ones.”

“Reagan riled him up.” Luna shoots me a grin, and heat floods my cheeks.

“Jesse is just stressed.” I set my glass down. “That’s it.”

“I’m sure that’s it.” Luna rolls her eyes while Tempe laughs, clearly, neither of them believing me. “But come to think of it, he has been grumpier since—”

She cuts herself off, glancing at Tempe.

“Since what?”

Luna bites her lip, hesitating, before she says, “There was an incident a few months back. Legacy got hurt—shot actually. But he’s fine now.”

I swallow hard, thinking about how he rubbed his leg this morning. How Bea talked about when he was sick in the hospital. Maybe this is what she was talking about. It would make sense that she’d be told a more palatable story for a five-year-old.

“That’s probably it.” I go along with it, even if I sense there’s more. “So, Tempe, Bea’s close with your son?”

“Technically, Austin is my younger brother…” Her expression softens. “But Jameson and I are all he has now, so we’re our own little family.”

Her statement tells me everything I need to know about her. Tempe looks out for the people she cares about, regardless of titles and roles. And apparently, Steel does the same. Maybe that’s why Luna fits in so well here.

I thought I had the club figured out with one step inside the clubhouse.

Sex.

Drugs.

Reckless abandon.

But at every turn, my assumptions are challenged.

“We’re two houses down if you ever need anything.” Tempe juts her thumb over her shoulder. “I know this place can be a lot to get used to, but I’m here to help.”

“I’ll try not to be a bother. ”

“You wouldn’t be.” Her words are genuine. “Really. We all know how hard it’s been on Legacy since Margaret got sick. If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”

“Thank you.” I take another sip, fighting the burning in my throat.

While I’ve been worried that Margaret has been in Las Vegas, struggling to battle cancer on her own, she’s had people caring for her this whole time. The club—whether I understand them or not—has looked out for my family. I’ll always owe them for that.

Down the hallway, I hear the front door open and close. Bea doesn’t run for it this time because she’s too distracted with Austin upstairs, but I assume it’s her father since Margaret is in bed.

Footsteps sound down the hallway, and when Jesse rounds the corner, he manages to look even grumpier than he was when he left this morning. His expression is worn, and his hair is messy from the stressed drag of his fingers through it—like he’s doing right now as he meets my gaze across the kitchen.

I take a sip of my drink, wishing it could cool what heats inside me at this man’s presence.

He’s wearing the thinnest white T-shirt beneath his cut— I think he called it? Between his strong jawline and thick muscles, I swear he belongs on billboards instead of in a motorcycle club. Although, the thought of those thick thighs and strong legs riding a motorcycle isn’t so bad to imagine either.

Jesse clears his throat, and I realize I’m staring at his thighs like a woman obsessed .

My gaze snaps to his, and I hope he doesn’t notice how hot my cheeks feel. Especially when his stare falls to the drink in my hand.

“It’s virgin.” I hold up my glass. “Almost… There’s less than a quarter of a shot in it. I’m not drinking on the job or anything.”

I set the glass down, sounding like a bumbling fool trying to explain myself.

“Okay.” There’s a flash of amusement in his eyes—in his tone—as he scans the three of us, and it catches me off guard. “Ladies.”

Luna and Tempe are holding back giggles as they take sips, trying to hide their smiles.

“The kids are playing.” I point to the ceiling just as a thump and a chorus of giggles echoes down the stairs. "And I started a crockpot of meatballs for dinner. Saw you had rolls, so I figured we could have subs. Hopefully, that works for you.”

“You don’t need to cook me dinner.”

“ Technically , I didn’t know you’d even be here for dinner since you barely responded to my text today. So, it’s for Bea. But there’s plenty if you want some.”

Amusement has vanished from both our expressions as we stare each other down. He refuses to crack, while I refuse to let his sour mood affect me.

A standoff of wills. Neither of us actually getting anywhere with the other.

“Want a margarita?” Luna holds up the mix, smiling, like anything can break the tension filling the room .

“No thanks,” Jesse answers her but doesn’t take his eyes off me. “I’ve got this now if you have anything you need to do or somewhere to be.”

“I’m good.” I shrug, leaning on the counter and not missing that his gaze ever so briefly drops to my chest. “Bea’s good. We’re all set if you need to shower, nap, or whatever.”

“I don’t—”

“Need anything?” I interrupt him. “Don’t worry, I know. But you’re welcome anyway.”

At my right, I hear Luna holding back a giggle, while Tempe takes a wide-eyed sip of her drink.

“Thank you, Reagan,” Jesse says through gritted teeth.

“You’re welcome, Jesse.” Nothing stops the smirk that fights its way to the corner of my mouth.

Not even him immediately turning back down the hall in which he came, retreating to his bedroom, or checking on his daughter. I don’t ask, and it doesn’t matter.

“Oh, this is going to be interesting,” Tempe whispers, leaning closer to Luna.

“Yes, it is.”

I wish they were wrong.

Bikers might not scare me, but this feeling kicking around in my chest at the sight of Jesse…

It’s terrifying.