Page 3 of Outlaw Heartstrings

“Good to go. Looks like.” He made the jump off the bed, landing lightly next to Ricky, who offered him the bag retrieved from the shoulder. “Want help unloading at the bike shop?”

“Nah. Dolph’s got two boys who still live at home. They’ll treat her right.”

“They better or Dodger’ll have their asses.

” Ricky laughed. “Dolph’s in Legends, too, and his boys are wanting to be second generation.

He won’t tolerate anything except respect for the machine, Irish.

You got nothing to worry about there. He’ll call once he gets an idea on the replacement tire, but we can head on home now. ”

“If you’re sure, Dechamps?” Irish lifted a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing the tense muscles he hadn’t noticed until moving the bike called out the stiffness. “You’ll give Ricky a holler?”

“Sure thing.” Dechamps stripped off his gloves and tossed them into the open door of the wrecker. “We can settle up when you come into town tomorrow to check on Hester.”

Irish suppressed a smile. He liked the way the man had immediately taken to the name he used for the bike. It spoke to a familiarity with bikers in general, and that kind of understanding went a long way to alleviate any remaining unease at seeing his girl roped and tied down.

Following Ricky back to the truck, he unzipped the bag and tucked his vest inside.

Not only wouldn’t he wear it inside a cage, but it would be disrespectful to fly his colors inside another man’s home unless they were part of the club or a close support group.

Irish resigned himself to the unease that came from feeling naked without the leather riding his back.

They’d been underway for a few minutes, silence sitting comfortably between the two men when Ricky spoke up.

“Won’t bother me none, you wear your cut in my home. Appreciate the clear respect you’ve got for your patch, brother.”

Irish’s head swung to look at Ricky, and he made a questioning sound.

“Serious as shit, Irish. You wearin’ your cut won’t bring you any grief in my home.

From anyone.” Ricky laughed softly. “And I suspect we’ll have visitors once Dechamps explains to Dodger what’s what.

Momma knows the crew’s ways, and no doubt she’s already expecting it and will have plenty to feed everyone. You wearin’ your cut is only right.”

“I appreciate that.” Irish’s few words were heartfelt, and he took an easier breath. “Someone not in the life wouldn’t get it. I shoulda known you’d be different.”

Silence fell again, this time even more welcoming and comfort filled.

It seemed only minutes passed until Ricky steered the truck up a short lane ending in front of a large, sprawling house.

The central windows of the residence were bright with flashing lights in the shape of a Christmas tree, and as they pulled up to a slowly opening garage door, more lights flashed on inside.

“Momma’s gonna greet us.” Ricky’s words were filled with soft affection. “Woman’s worth her weight in gold, and I try to never let her forget it.”

Sure enough, the truck had barely rolled to a stop before the inside door burst open, and a tall woman swung down the couple of steps to the garage floor.

She turned and scooped up a small child, propping what looked like a little girl on her hip as she rounded the front of the truck to the driver side.

The woman was pretty, with a broad smile and bright blonde hair curling around her shoulders.

The child was as different as day was to night, dark hair a long shaggy mess she still tried to hide behind when she saw Irish in the cab.

“That’s my girls,” Ricky boomed as he opened the door. “Momma, give me some sugar. Lucy girl, how are you, darlin’?”

Irish climbed out of the truck and put the bag back on the seat, unzipping to retrieve his cut. He’d just settled it on his shoulders when Ricky called his name.

“Irish, this is Marilyn, light of my life. And our granddaughter, Lucy, who puts the stars in our eyes every single day.”

Irish looked up with a smile and a wave.

“Ma’am, Lucy. Pleased to meetcha.” A sound behind him pulled his attention back to the doorway in time to see a gorgeous dark-haired woman pause before skipping down the steps.

She had a ridged scar running along her jawline, but it didn’t detract from her beauty at all.

Her bright green eyes danced with laughter as she held her arms out. “LouCiel, are you supposed to be outside this time of night?”

“I’m not o’side, momma. Me’s i’side.” Lucy pointed up. “Is woof. Me’s i’side, no o’side.” She hugged Marilyn’s arm tighter. “Is MeMa brought me.”

“Irish, this is Ellen, our daughter-in-love.” Ricky’s face flashed with an emotion for a moment that looked like sadness, then he brightened. “She’s Lucy’s ever-tolerant mother.”

Irish tilted his head in acknowledgment, even as he tamped back the rich attraction swirling in his belly.

Daughter-in-law meant entirely unavailable.

Next through the door would be the son and husband, and there’d be hell to pay if anyone saw the way his dick had chubbed up in those few seconds.

Figures that the first time in a year I’ve been interested in someone would be here and now.

“Welcome, Irish.” Ellen’s soft greeting didn’t do anything for the state of his threatening erection. “Dinner’s ready in a few, but we’ve got a room all setup for you to drop your things.” She took Lucy from Marilyn’s arms. “Follow me and the monster here and we’ll show you.”

“I not a m’nster.” Lucy’s complaint was broken with a big yawn.

“Lead the way, ma’am.” Irish followed her slim form through the door into a narrow mudroom, entering a kitchen almost as large as Irish’s entire apartment back home.

Savory scents filled the space, and he sniffed in appreciation.

“I appreciate your family taking me in like this. I was expecting a cold camp tonight.”

“Oh goodness no, not if Ricky has any say about it. He and Marilyn are some of the most welcoming people I know.” Ellen looked over her shoulder, dark hair falling down her back in a black flow. “I’m so lucky to have them in my life.”

The hallway they traversed was lined with images on both sides.

It appeared that Ricky and Marilyn had four sons, as the photos showed them in stuttering leaps of ages from clustered around their parents’ legs to graduation and beyond.

Three wedding photos included one of Ellen standing next to a tall, handsome man, his gaze fixed on her lovingly.

Then a picture of the same man holding a tiny pink bundle, presumably Lucy.

After that, the images of him ended, and it was just Ellen and Lucy, sometimes included with Ricky and Marilyn. Wonder what happened.

“Here’s you.” Ellen stepped past a doorway and motioned to the opening.

“I’ll leave you to get settled. It’s got an attached bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about sharing with anyone.

We’ll be putting plates down in twenty minutes or so, and you don’t want to miss Marilyn’s cooking.

” She offered a smile, and he liked how she held her head high, the scar on her face not seeming to be a consideration as she looked him in the eye. “Welcome, Irish.”

“Liam.” He instinctively wanted to hear what he considered his true name on her lips. “My friends call me Liam.”

Her gaze flicked down to the name patch and back to his eyes. “Liam,” she amended with a nod. “Welcome.”

***

Ellen

As the man’s government name rolled off her lips, Ellen knew she was in trouble.

Not that she’d act on it, not under her in-law’s roof, but the man in front of her ticked all the boxes on her holy-shit-he’s-attractive list. Rough but gentlemanly, with a coarse voice paired with soft words—it was as if Irish… Liam had been created with her in mind.

For the first time in the years since the accident that had taken Jerry away, Ellen felt the stirring of physical attraction.

She lowered her lashes, hoping to hide it from this man who seemed entirely too perceptive.

She’d watched him registering the transition of images in the hallway; had marked the moment when he put together the weight of her loss.

LouCiel shifted on her hip, and Ellen grabbed hold of that distraction with an urgency that surprised her.

“Sweet monster, let’s get you settled so Mommy can eat supper with the grown-ups.

” Pressing a gentle kiss to her daughter’s temple, she briefly met Liam’s gaze.

“She’s already had dinner, and it’s time for sleep.

Just come back to the kitchen when you’re ready.

No rush.” Noise traveled down the hallway, voices she recognized, and Ellen fought to hide a grimace.

Nick. Hope he minds himself this time. The man kept fighting to get Ellen alone.

He creeped her out with his protective attention.

He needs to find a woman. “That’ll be some of Ricky’s boys.

Sounds like we’ll have a few more folks for you to meet. ”

“Ricky’s boys?” Liam stood taller as he cast an inscrutable glance at the doorway. “Sons or patch brothers?”

“Legends members. Jerry, Ricky and Marilyn’s son …

my husband, passed away nearly three years ago.

He was the only son still in town.” Pudgy fingers cradled her jaw, and Ellen looked down at LouCiel.

As always, her daughter seemed in tune with her mother’s emotions and was looking to comfort her.

Time to end this encounter. “See you at the table.”