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8

EMBER

I t must be a curse.

Or I was a horrible person in another life.

Because there is no way on God’s green earth that Atom could be the only man on the planet who really makes me feel things.

Not just tingly things between my legs, but emotionally deep things. Like, in every lifetime, we were meant to be together.

Soul mates even.

I had a really good time with Rocco. It was fun. We had a lot in common. He’s career-focused but starting to feel like something more is missing in his life…like I do.

The guy stood there and took a beating for me.

Yet my heart never raced the way it did when I opened the door to find Atom standing there, looking like a total snack with the dirt of the road ingrained in the lines of his face.

While Rocco smelled of bodywash and sharp cologne, Atom smells musky in a way that bizarrely makes my mouth water.

And that stunt he just pulled on my neck? There’s got to be a moral code somewhere that says men who turned you down, then spent years making you feel invisible around them, shouldn’t have the right to do that to you anymore.

Yeah. It must be karma from some epic wrong I committed four lifetimes ago.

But…he came for me. He heard there was trouble, and from the look of him, rode straight here to check on me.

“Fine. Come in. The footage is on my laptop in my apartment. Wait here. I’ll bring it down.”

I move through the bar, grateful my team did such a good job of putting the place to rights at the end of the previous evening. I popped down here at one point and told them all to leave via the front of the bar, and I offered to pay for a ride for anyone who needed it. Staff safety is one of my biggest concerns.

When I get to the door at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the apartment, I feel his presence behind me.

“You should be locking this internal door every time you come to the bar,” he says.

“The front and rear doors to the bar are locked. They’d have to break through those first. Plus, there is another door at the top of these stairs too. That one is definitely locked.” I look over my shoulder at him. “I told you to wait in the bar.”

He shrugs. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

Urgh. I refuse to melt in a puddle at the bare minimum, but…seriously… sweetheart .

“I’ll tell my father you pushed your way into my apartment.”

He leans closer to me. “And I’ll tell him you objected to having the club interfere with your business and refused to hand over the tapes. We all know who he’ll believe.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Quite possibly. But my job is to keep you out of the way of those Russian bastards so that you’re alive to call me an asshole for many years to come.”

“I don’t intend to pay them; they can kiss the business end of my Beretta. And I am not, nor ever have been, your job. Stick to what you clearly love: being an enforcer for your club. Worry about keeping them alive. Not me.”

He points up the stairs. “Let’s go.”

I feel his eyes on me as I take each step. I’m glad I’m wearing a sundress, and I don’t even care if he gets a glimpse of more than he bargained for. I have quite the panty collection, and I’m proud of them. These are lemon with little crisscross cutouts at the side.

And if I’m suffering in his presence, why shouldn’t he suffer a little in mine?

I have a fleeting thought about Rocco. At some point, I will have to truly reconcile the one who got away—Atom—and making a new relationship with someone else. But right now, I feel like I’m in that early stage of dating where a decision doesn’t yet need to be made.

Is it unfair that he’s in a fight for my affection with Atom and doesn’t know? Probably.

Rocco and I didn’t sleep together. Well, I mean, we did in as much as we were both in my bed. He was worried I might have a concussion from being knocked down. And the kick to his ribs was so painful, he could do little more than lie there, but he wanted to be able to check on me. This morning, he had to leave because he had a meeting at lunchtime.

I suggested taking him to the hospital in the next town over to get an X-ray, but he assured me he didn’t feel like anything was broken, just bruised.

When I get to the top of the stairs, there is a small landing. On it is a shoe rack and a couple of coat hooks. I punch in the code to open the apartment door, then kick off my boots in the small entryway.

“No cuts in my home,” I say. “There’s a hook on the outside of the door that I make Dad hang his on.”

Atom’s eyes widen. “What?”

I tip my head toward the hook. “Your cut. You need to hang it up.”

“You’re serious? Even up here?”

“It’s my mistake. You shouldn’t have even worn it to come through the bar, but I was still in shock at finding you on my doorstep.”

He shakes his head but, thankfully, does as I ask. “One day, you’ll have to explain this huge aversion you have to the club being anywhere on your property.”

“Because if I didn’t, this would surely become a biker bar, and the locals would stop coming. It would start with cuts, then incidental security that becomes permanent security. The next thing you know, I’d end up washing cash for you and on some FBI list as an accessory to your shit. That’s the life you chose, not the one I did.”

Once he steps into the entry, I look down at his weathered cowboy boots.

“The fucking boots too?” he asks.

I simply fold my arms and raise an eyebrow.

“Jesus. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have grabbed the old socks with a hole in the toe when I packed for Sturgis. Socks aren’t the whitest anymore either. Probably should clean with bleach or buy some new ones or some shit.”

It’s a funny admission, ever so slightly out of character for Atom. Sure enough, there is a hole with his big toe peeking through it. It’s weirdly endearing.

“There are many things you’ve done and said over the years that I could judge you for, but a hole in your sock isn’t one of them. My laptop is on the breakfast bar.”

“You created a nice place,” he says. And I remember he hasn’t ever set foot up here before. If he’s ever had to drop me home for any reason, he’s always watched from his bike until I was inside. I look around, seeing it through his eyes.

The kitchen is spotless with two tan leather stools neatly tucked in at the breakfast bar. The gray sofa looks as soft and comfortable as it feels with stacks of pink and white cushions. And then there’s a view out toward the mountains.

The view that stole my breath away when I first walked into the upper level of the clothing store it used to be and decided I had to see that view from here every day of my life.

“Thank you. One of the nicest things about this place is the sunset. Every evening, the sun goes down, throwing shades of purple and orange around my living room, and it’s a thing of beauty. I can hear the steady beat of music from the bar below. It doesn’t irritate me. I paid good money for sound insulation between the two floors, and the apartment is mostly above the quieter kitchen. Plus, it’s the reassuring sound that the bar is busy and I’m making money.”

“You’ve done good with the place, Ember.”

I smile at that. “Yes. I have. Not everyone wants live music. Sometimes a small town doesn’t have the interest to support so many events. But this worked out so well. I got a business, employment, a home, and a way to put my business degree to good use, all in one place.” I turn to face him. “It’s the perfect trifecta. Or whatever the word is for more than three things at once.”

It’s there again, the straining tug of thread I feel when I’m around Atom. I see something a lot like yearning in his eyes. I’ve never bought that he didn’t want me, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. I know that was an excuse.

He simply wanted the Iron Outlaws more than he wanted me. He wanted my father’s respect more than he wanted me. He wanted a place at the huge wooden table in church more than me. And he wanted the leather cut hanging outside my door right now more than me.

But that doesn’t mean he didn’t want me. The kiss in the barn proved it.

The way he’s looking at me right now proves it too.

Neither of us move.

Both of us are torn. Stuck in this place where we can’t push each other away hard enough for it to be final, nor can either one of us step forward into the other.

I did that once, and he turned me away. I can’t make that mistake again.

And Atom knows if he does, my father will become a huge, insurmountable problem in his future.

“Em,” Atom says finally. Two letters bound to make my pulse race faster than a gallop with Lemmy.

With all that I am, I need to know what he wants to say. But my fear is that the words will break my heart again. I decide to save us both. “Let me get my laptop so I can show you the footage you want.”

It takes me a moment to retrieve it from the breakfast bar. I tap around on a few keys, taking my time as I try to regulate my breathing that has become heavy.

“It’s not the best angle to see all of it,” I say. “But this was their arrival.”

I cue it up from the moment Rocco pulls his car up and gets out to open the door for me. It’s a cute moment and makes me smile sadly. I try to focus on how handsome Rocco is. How he took me out to dinner and made plans for us and was simply kind.

I glance at Atom, and a small muscle in his jaw twitches as he watches the screen.

The high-quality cameras pick up sound.

“Thanks for a lovely evening,” I say on the video.

Rocco’s smile is instant. “Let me walk you to your door. My mom would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

Atom huffs. “Fucking momma’s boy. You know he’s only saying that to get in your panties.”

I pause the playback. “I’m not going to let you watch this if you’re going to be an antagonistic asshole.”

He bats my finger away and presses Play himself.

I swear Atom growls when he sees Rocco reach out to touch my cheek, but he leans in closer when he sees the first man get out of the truck and call my name.

“Did you catch any of the plate of the truck?” Atom asks.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t paying attention when they arrived. And when they left, well, you’ll see—I had other things on my mind.”

The video plays on: me nervously fiddling with the straps of the purse to reach my gun, Rocco stepping in front of me to protect me.

I thought I was fine. Well, fine enough. But watching the video back, I can see the fear in my eyes.

“You need to get the fuck out of here,” Rocco says.

Atom grips the edge of the table. His knuckles are white.

My voice wavers on the video. “You have no idea who you are messing with.”

“I know everything about you. And your daddy isn’t going to be able to fix this for you. Nor is he going to be able to save this town.”

“So, they know who you are, and they know who Butcher is and—motherfucker!” Atom sees the moment one of the men pulls his gun from the holster and threatens my life with it.

The rest of the clip passes by, and Atom is silent as they tell me how much I’ll owe and how I need to pay. He doesn’t even say anything when Rocco is beaten.

His only words come when I get slapped down to the ground.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”