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Dice

I was just about to blow past Main Street when a flash of long, sun-kissed hair and a pair of tanned legs stopped me cold.

I hit the brakes hard enough that the tires squealed. My bike fishtailed half a foot before I got it steady, and I swung my head around so fast that it damn near gave me whiplash.

No way.

No goddamn way.

I whipped a U-turn and parked in the nearest parking spot.

I kicked down the stand and climbed off as my boots crunched on the pavement. “Lainey,” I called.

And then she turned.

Her head tilted like she was trying to make sense of me and the fact that I was standing in front of her for the first time in sixteen years.

“Duane,” she said, and I swear it hit me in the gut like a fist.

I shook my head. “Not Duane.”

She raised an eyebrow, like I was the confusing part of this moment. “You said Lainey, and then I said your name. Are you not Duane anymore?”

Hell, I hadn’t been called that in over a decade. Probably closer to fifteen years. “Dice, baby.”

Lainey blinked. “You changed your name from Duane to Dice? I know you never really liked your name, but I thought you would’ve picked something less… weird.”

I gave a short laugh and shrugged. “I didn’t pick it.”

She looked around like she was expecting an alien mothership to swoop down and whisk her away. Her gaze kept flitting back to me, though—like she couldn’t believe I was real. Like I’d been some ghost hanging around in her memory and now here I was in leather and denim and tattoos.

We were on Main Street in the parking lot of the grocery store, right by the corner with the diner and that old barber shop. I’d just been cruising by when something about the woman walking toward the store yanked my soul out of my chest. I did a double-take so hard I nearly wrecked.

It was her.

My Lainey.

At least, she’d been mine once.

Back in high school, when the world was simpler and we were invincible. I left town a few weeks after graduation to chase that itch to get out and keep moving.

Lainey? She had college lined up. Scholarships. Plans. A future. Everything I didn’t.

She stepped closer. “You are Duane Clyde, right?”

“To the government, yeah. But I go by Dice now.”

Her eyes raked over me and lingered on the tattoo that curved around my neck. “I only knew it was you by your eyes. You’ve… changed.”

“Life will do that to you, baby,” I said, my voice low and rough.

She nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I’m not exactly the size four I was in high school.”

My gaze dropped over her body. Long, light brown hair hung past her shoulders in gentle waves, half tucked behind one ear. Her face was still that perfect mix of sweet and strong—just a little more defined now. More woman than girl. She wore a plain white T-shirt that clung in all the right places and light blue jean shorts with a frayed hem that showed off miles of legs. White sneakers on her feet. Tan skin. Curves that screamed grown woman in every damn sense of the word.

I wanted to touch her. I wanted to taste her. I wanted to hear what her moan sounded like after sixteen years apart.

I looked at her left hand.

No rings.

Thank fuck.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t with someone. And suddenly that thought hit me square in the chest.

“You look fantastic from where I’m standing, Lainey,” I said honestly.

She blushed. Actually blushed. Pushed her hair behind her ear and ducked her head a little.

“Yeah, well, you might be biased. Having a baby kind of wrecked my body.”

My head jerked up. “You have a kid?”

She nodded. “I mean, it was fifteen years ago. I don’t really think I can use that as an excuse anymore.”

Fifteen years ago.

We graduated sixteen years ago.

I blinked. “Fifteen years ago?”

She must’ve seen the panic set in because she laughed and held her hands up. “Whoa, whoa. I can see you panicking. You are not the father,” she said, still laughing.

Relief punched through me, but it was quickly followed by something else. Something sharp and unexpected.

Disappointment.

I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me. But part of me didn’t hate the idea of that baby being mine. Well, now teenager.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Uh… well. Congrats.”

She snorted. “I deal with a fifteen-year-old girl every day, Duane. I need a bottle of wine more than I need congratulations.”

I didn’t say anything. My head was still spinning. Lainey was a mom. She had a daughter. She’d lived a whole damn life while I’d been off raising hell with the Iron Fiends.

“So, uh… you just passing through Mt. Pleasant or…” I trailed off.

We grew up in Oklahoma. Mt. Pleasant was six hours and a lifetime away.

She squinted at me. “Moving here. Lottie and I needed a fresh start, and Mt. Pleasant is going to be it. What about you?”

“Mt. Pleasant’s been my home for a while now. My club is based here.”

Her eyes flicked to the patch on my chest.

“Iron Fiends,” she read aloud. Then her gaze slid to the patch over my name. “And yep, Dice.” She gave me a half-smile. “How’d you come up with that?”

I shrugged. “That’s a story for another time.”

She laughed, a soft musical sound that tugged at something buried in me. “Okay.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out and glanced at the screen.

Where the fuck are you? Yarder had impeccable timing as usual.

I frowned.

“I’ll let you get that,” Lainey said, giving me a gentle out. She shifted the canvas grocery bag higher on her shoulder. “I’ve got an empty fridge and a fifteen-year-old who’s not going to deal well with takeout for the second week in a row.”

I didn’t want to end this conversation. I wanted more—more time, more stories, more of her.

But I also knew Yarder didn’t text like that unless shit was serious. And I’d already been skating too close to the edge with him lately.

“Uh, yeah,” I said reluctantly. “I do have some things I need to do. Maybe we can get together one night and catch up?”

Lainey hesitated. “Uh… maybe. I’m kind of busy with getting settled in right now.”

I nodded, not wanting to push her. “How about I give you my number, and you can call or text when it’s good for you?”

She pulled out her phone. “Sure. That sounds good.”

I rattled off the number and watched her type it in with fingernails painted a dark gray.

“I’ll text you when things settle down,” she said with a timid smile. “It was good seeing you again, Duane.”

I slid my sunglasses back on and smirked. “Dice, baby.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, that one’s gonna take me a bit to get used to. I’ll see you around.”

She turned and headed toward the grocery store. Her hips swayed as those long legs carried her away from me. I stood there like some idiot stuck in a daydream.

Damn.

She looked even better walking away.

My past had just strolled back into my life wearing frayed shorts and white sneakers, and now she was disappearing into a grocery store while I stood there with a patch on my chest and feeling like an eighteen-year-old all over again.

Lainey fucking Daly.

I remembered everything in a rush. Kissing her in the cab of my truck with her hair tangled in my fingers. That laugh that bubbled out when she was happy and the way her hand had felt in mine when we made those bullshit promises about forever.

She looked hot.

Not just pretty. Not just fine.

Hot.

Curvy and womanly and every bit the fantasy I didn’t even know I still had.

My phone buzzed again. This time, Yarder was calling.

I swiped to connect and put it to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Get your goddamn ass to the clubhouse NOW,” Yarder barked.

Shit.

I turned, and my eyes went to the door Lainey had disappeared behind.

Whatever was waiting for me at the clubhouse… it sure as hell wasn’t going to be as sweet as the woman I’d just seen for the first time in sixteen years.

And if I had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t be the last.