Page 20

Lainey

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. My shoulders sank, and I scrubbed my hands down my face with a sigh deep from my chest.

This was not at all how I thought my night was going to go after the day I had.

“Hungry?”

I jumped and clutched my hand to my chest.

“Gosh, I’m sorry,” a woman said quickly.

I turned toward the voice and found a pretty brunette standing a few feet away. She looked soft but confident, like she knew she could command a kitchen and talk a biker out of a bad decision in the same breath.

She had to be one of the ol’ ladies Duane had told me about.

“Uh—oh. You’re fine,” I said, letting my breath out. “I guess I’m just a bit jumpy tonight.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lainey.”

She took it with a smile. “Adalee. It’s nice to meet you.”

Adalee. The baker.

Duane had mentioned her. Said she was always feeding people and was working on opening a bakery. I smiled. “The baker,” I said. “Duane mentioned you.”

She tilted her head, and her eyes lit up. “I never would’ve pictured Dice as a Duane. I freakin’ love it.”

Ope. I was not supposed to call him that around here.

I winced. “Uh, I mean Dice. You did not hear me call him Duane.”

Adalee laughed. “Don’t worry. None of the guys are big fans of their real names. I’ve only heard them used during arguments.” She gave me a look of easy warmth. “Can I get you something to eat? Dice said all the chaos hit around six, and figured you and Lottie might be running on empty.”

“Oh, I’m okay. But Lottie probably would want something.” I gestured vaguely behind me. “I was about to make her a sandwich if you could point me to the kitchen.”

Adalee waved her hand. “I’ll show you, but you’re not making anything. I’ve already got two plates set aside for you guys.”

I blinked. That surprised me more than it should have. “Thank you for thinking of us,” I said quietly.

I followed her through the clubhouse. For the first time since we got here, I actually looked around.

When we’d arrived, Duane had led us straight to a bedroom. Lottie’s bedroom, singular. A room with one twin bed. I’d hoped—stupidly—that Duane meant for us to stay together, but when I saw the bed, that hope had popped like a balloon.

Not that I could’ve shared a bed with her tonight. I’d tried talking to her. Tried to parent. She’d just shrugged and said she understood. That she was okay with everything. And that she liked Duane.

I still didn’t know how that happened. She’d barely spoken to him for twenty minutes.

After a while, she’d asked for a shower. I told her I’d be back with something to eat.

Adalee had appeared like she’d been waiting for her cue.

We walked past a large open area where a few people were hanging out and talking quietly, then into a surprisingly clean kitchen just past the bar.

Adalee opened the fridge and pulled out two plates with a smile. “We had enchiladas for dinner. Hope that’s okay. If not, I can whip something else up.”

The second she lifted the foil, the scent hit me—warm, savory, and rich. My mouth practically started watering.

“Oh, that’s more than okay.”

She chuckled and popped them in the microwave. “What do you want to drink? We had margaritas, but those never make it past dinner.”

“Water’s fine.” I tried not to feel awkward. “I can just grab a couple bottles.”

“Bottom shelf,” she said with a nod.

I crouched, grabbed two waters, and stood just as the microwave dinged.

Adalee handed me the plates, and the aroma got even better. Melted cheese, seasoned meat, just the right hint of spice. It was like comfort on a plate.

“Thank you again,” I said, juggling the water and the plates. “This is… really thoughtful.”

“Just holler if you need anything else, okay?”

I smiled and made my way back down the hall.

I nudged open the bedroom door and stepped in. The room was warm and dimly lit by a lamp. I set her plate on the nightstand and sat at the desk to dig into mine.

And wow.

Adalee was no joke. I closed my eyes for a second just to savor the first bite. I was halfway through the plate when Lottie came out of the bathroom with her hair wet and twisted into a bun on top of her head.

“Is that what smells so good?” she asked, her eyes zeroed in on my plate.

I nodded toward the nightstand. “That’s yours. And you can stop drooling over mine. Adalee made you a plate, too.”

Lottie clapped her hands together like a happy seal and beelined for it. She climbed onto the bed, cross-legged, and dug in.

We ate in silence, and when the plates were scraped clean, she leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

“You gonna lecture me again?” she mumbled through a yawn. “Or can that wait till morning?”

I licked a smear of sauce off my finger and shook my head. “It can wait. I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

I picked up our plates and stood. “But tomorrow, we’re going to go over about twenty different scenarios and what you should’ve done in each one.”

She groaned. “Great.”

I turned at the door. “I love you.”

She smiled sleepily as she pulled the covers up. “Love you too, Mom. I’m really sorry.”

“I know.” I flipped the light off and quietly shut the door behind me.

“I’ll take those.”

I jumped. The plates clattered slightly in my hands.

Duane was standing there, his voice low and quiet. He gently took the dishes from me before I could say a word and walked away down the hallway. I didn’t follow. I didn’t want to. I was too tired. Too emotionally drained.

Just as I turned to maybe crawl into the twin bed with Lottie, Duane came back.

He didn’t say anything. Just took my hand and steered me down the hall.

We stopped three doors down, and he opened a door to a room that was similar to Lottie’s—but bigger. Queen bed. A dresser. Lamps. Personal touches.

“This is your room, isn’t it?” I asked.

He nodded and closed the door behind us. “It’s your room now, too.”

He kicked off his boots, like that was that.

I didn’t move. My back pressed against the door again. I didn’t know what to say.

I was mad at him. He hadn’t told me the truth.

“I didn’t lie to you, Lainey,” he said, reading my silence like a book.

I blinked. “Did you just read my mind?”

“No. I just know what you’re thinking. You’re mad I didn’t tell you about Boone and Gibbs.”

He undid the button on his jeans, and I averted my eyes to the ceiling.

“You did lie to me.”

“I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you everything. Big difference.”

“A detail that might get me and my daughter killed? That’s not small.”

He pulled his shirt off and tossed it at a laundry basket—missing by a mile.

“Stop that!” I slapped my hand over my eyes. “I’m trying to be mad at you.”

I heard his low laugh. “How’s that working out, babe?”

“Fine. As long as I don’t look at you.” I peeked between my fingers, then shut them again. “Not fair.”

I heard him move, and I felt him close in.

Then arms wrapped around me.

“I’m mad at you, Duane.”

“You can be mad while I hold you.”

“What if I don’t want you to touch me?”

“Then tell me to stop.”

But I couldn’t.

Because despite everything—despite the fear, the anger, the confusion—being in his arms felt like home.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the crazy people trying to kill you?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. And I thought the threat was gone.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve got people watching them. I thought it was handled. But tonight… when you called, I thought it was them. And I panicked. I realized I can’t pretend they’re not a threat. They go after what we care about.”

“And you care about me?” I asked softly.

“And Lottie,” he said.

“You hadn’t even met Lottie.”

“I know. But you care about her. That’s enough for me.”

My throat tightened.

“What if tonight hadn’t happened? Would you have told me?”

“When it was over,” he admitted.

His lips pressed gently against my skin—my neck, behind my ear. Light, comforting. A reminder he was real.

“We’re not having sex tonight,” I whispered.

“Okay,” he murmured.

“Then why are you kissing me?”

“Because I was scared tonight,” he said against my skin. “And I just want to be close to you.”

His arms around me tightened, and I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady.

“She’s okay, Duane.”

“I know. But for a moment, I thought she wasn’t.”

We stood like that, breathing in sync.

“Promise me,” I whispered, “no more secrets.”

“Never again,” he promised. “You know everything now.”

I relaxed into him. “We’re still not having sex tonight.”

“I know, babe.”

I looked up at him. “Can we move this to the bed so I can pass out?”

His eyes shimmered with laughter. “You got it.”

“I need to get my bag,” I muttered.

“It’s in the bathroom,” he said.

I smiled, a little surprised. “Thank you.”

I ducked into the bathroom, did what I needed, and changed into an oversized T-shirt. When I came back out, the lights were off, and Duane was already in bed, waiting.

I slipped under the covers and didn’t even hesitate before scooting into his arms.

“I’m still mad,” I mumbled.

“Okay, babe,” he whispered, and pulled me in tighter.

“And I’ll still be mad in the morning.”

“Okay,” he repeated, amused.

I pressed a kiss to his chest, and my eyes drifted shut. “Goodnight.”

“Night, babe.”

Today had been chaos.

But it ended with Lottie safe.

And me in Duane’s arms.

That was crazy.

But I liked it.

Even if I was still mad at him.