Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC Book Book 8)

by Anne Malcom

  Seeing him get off his bike, take off his shades and tuck them in the front of his tee didn’t do anything to me either. Except piss me off. Because I was exhausted, frustrated and sweaty.

  My tank was covered in paint stains from this morning, when the kids and I had decided Lily’s room needed a ‘feature wall’. Well, it was Lily who’d decided that, Jack and I’d just been roped into actually doing the painting. I was also covered in sweat since it was the middle of the afternoon, the middle of the summer and the middle of a heatwave in California.

  I was wearing a pair of Ranger’s shorts I’d cut to not look ridiculously long on me. Most of the things I wore around the house belonged to my dead husband. Most I hadn’t even washed, though barely anything still smelled like him. The healthy thing to do would’ve been to burn or donate all of his clothes, but I wasn’t healthy. I was sick with grief, and if getting rid of all of the reminders of my husband was some kind of cure, I didn’t want it.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, wiping the sweat from my forehead and glaring at Kace.

  He glanced to me, his forest green eyes flickering up and down my body before he surveyed the yard and then the lawn mower I would’ve hurled across the street if I’d had the upper body strength.

  “Well, I was just driving by at first, then I saw all of this,” he waved his hand at me, the lawn mower and the grass. “I figured it was my duty for your grass, your lawnmower and most likely your entire neighbourhood, if I offer my services.”

  “Your services?” I repeated, my foot tapping impatiently.

  “Well, my day job involves fixing cars... among other things. But I am known to be a expert at mowing lawns. And...” he moved forward, knelt down, opened a cap, moved the lawn mower slightly then looked up at me. “I’m also an expert at knowing when it’s run out of gas.”

  I bit my lip. Heat flushed my cheeks, but this time it had nothing to do with the heat of the day and everything to do with the fact that I was seconds away from driving to Home Depot to buy a new lawn mower because ours was ‘broken’ when all it really needed was gas.

  Kace stood up. “I’m guessin’ you got some gas cans in there.” He nodded his head toward the garage.

  I pursed my lips. “I’m guessing we do,” I replied, not exactly sure whether we did or not. But it was highly likely, since Ranger was an orderly, organized kind of guy when it came to the garage and maintaining the house.

  No matter what was going on with the club, he’d mowed the lawn once a week. Took out the garbage. Cleaned the gutters. Changed lightbulbs. He took care of all of the ‘man’ jobs. Despite how sexist it sounded, that was the way it had been because I couldn’t do that shit. He’d changed the oil in my car. He’d taken pride in our home. In giving me small things.

  Hence me deciding to mow the lawn.

  While I’d been in my... funk these past few months, the lawn had been mowed. I hadn’t been the one doing the mowing, which meant someone had been doing it. I hadn’t even noticed. When I did start to notice, I realized a Prospect came once a week to do the job my husband could no longer do. I’d scared him off earlier this morning, which didn’t say much about his potential for getting patched in. You had to be able to survive a lot more than the wrath of an Old Lady. Okay, maybe not a lot more, but close.

  Since I was paying attention now, deciding to try to figure out how to live my life without my husband, I thought it was beyond time for me to learn to do things like mow the lawn. No way was I going to be the woman who had the club take care of all of this shit. Like some kind of burden. A charity case.

  Fuck that.

  How hard was it to mow a lawn?

  After an hour, an inner temper tantrum and a crying jag in our garage, I’d deduced it was very fucking hard if you had no idea how to operate a lawn mower. Which I realized was totally fucking pathetic. I was a single mom raising two kids, I should be able to teach them every life skill. Ranger should’ve taught me every ‘man job’. He should’ve fucking known there was a possibility I’d be right here, alone, unable to mow the goddamn lawn without someone on a Harley feeling obligated to save the day.

  “I’ll go and grab some, fill ‘er up and finish this job. For you, but mostly for the lawn that’s just trying to survive,” Kace smirked.

  Friendly. Funny. Who the fuck was this guy?

  “That’s not necessary,” I argued, not hiding the irritation in my voice. “I’m more than capable.”

  “I’m sure you are,” he agreed, lying expertly. “This isn’t some alpha crap where I don’t think a woman can do the work. It’s just I know for a fact that Cade would reem me out for driving past, seeing you doing this shit and taking no for an answer. Especially when my Sunday afternoon plans include a cold beer, a football game and not much else.” He paused and I took the time to drink him in.

  He was taller than me, though that wasn’t hard since most of these men were over six foot and I was only five six. Muscles, but of course. Vibrant tattoos covering one of his sinewy arms. Hair long enough to almost brush his shoulders if it were down. But he’d slung it back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck.

  I was not a fan of the man bun. At least, not before this moment.

  “Now I can see you’re rearing up to argue with me,” Kace said. “I bet you’re damn good at it too. But I’ll let you in on a secret.” He leaned in, and I held my breath, not wanting to smell him, and I could only imagine what he was smelling on me. “I’m damn good at it too. And as I mentioned before, I don’t have any plans, so I’ve got all the time in the world to stand here and argue with you.”

  I stared at him. This man I’d met once. Who had shared personal information with me because he felt it was only fair since he knew my shit. Who’d stopped his bike on his way home to drink and do nothing in order to argue with me about mowing some lawn.

  The nerve.

  Seriously. Who did he think he was?

  I’d been geared up to argue with him. I really had. On principle mostly, and also because I couldn’t face the fact that I’d failed at being two parents before I’d even really began. Fighting back was what I should’ve done. Should’ve straightened my spine, jutted out my chin and assumed the female battle stance.

  But I was tired. Tired in every way a person could be tired. I did not feel like fighting this stranger in the middle of my half—okay, quarter—mowed yard in the ninety-degree heat. Nor did I particularly want to finish mowing this lawn after a fight with this stranger.

  So I sighed and stepped back. “Whatever. If you want to waste your Sunday, be my guest.” I paused, wiping sweat from my brow. “Just know this is not me approving a male coming in to take over a job that I’m totally capable of finishing. It’s me realizing that my children have been far too quiet, which worries me, and I fucking hate mowing the grass.”

  I shouldn’t have relented, but I was tired. To my bones. And I didn’t have the energy to fight this man, especially when it was clear he was up for a fight.

  “Not putting any strings on it, just bein’ a good neighbor,” he responded.

  I raised my brow. “Uh huh.”

  He chuckled. “Go on in, and give yourself a break, investigate those all too quiet children.”

  I stared at him for a beat longer, trying to understand his motivations for doing this. For talking to me that night at the club. There was no way he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart.

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I blurted.

  His eyes bugged out ever so slightly. “Well, I didn’t offer it, so stand down. I’m not here for you to sexually objectify me. I’m just tryin’ to do a good deed.”

  “No man ever just tries to do a good deed,” I returned.

  “Well, I guess I’m gonna have to prove you wrong. For now, I’m gonna mow your grass.”

  I didn’t believe him. But I also didn’t want to stand out there arguing with him. So I didn’t. Instead, I turned on my heel and walked back into my house.

/>   “Mom, who is the man mowing our grass?” Lily asked as I emerged from my room, freshly showered and in a light sundress. Not because Kace was here, but because I didn’t want to look pathetic wearing Ranger’s tees when I encountered him again. Didn’t want him to look at me in pity.

  “He’s wearing a cut,” Jack observed, peering out the window like his sister was, although his gaze was slightly more guarded. My son had only seen one man in a Sons of Templar cut mow his front lawn. His father. And he hadn’t actually worn his cut while mowing, but whatever.

  “He’s a... friend from the club,” I replied, deciding a slight lie was better than saying I barely knew him, and he’d strong armed his way into letting him do that. “I wasn’t having the best luck with the lawn mower cooperating, and he was driving by and offered to help.”

  “I could’ve mowed the lawns, Mom,” Jack said, a frown curling his lips.

  I sighed, smiling although my heart cracked at Jack’s words, his tone. “I’m well aware you could have, my boy,” I smiled, moving forward to ruffle his hair. “And once you turn thirteen, I’ll definitely be roping you in to doing all sorts of household chores. For now, you can enjoy not having to do them. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this moment when you’re older.” I winked.

  He did not wink back, just kept a suspicious eye on Kace. “This guy is new. I don’t know him.”

  Oh, my little boy was being protective.

  “He has nice hair,” Lily chimed in.

  I bit my lip, ignoring her comment. “Yes, he’s new. He moved from a chapter in Washington. But he’s been in the club for years. Cade wouldn’t have let him come in here if he didn’t think he was a good guy.” I met my son’s eyes. “You like all the guys at the club, right?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Well, that’s because you’ve had a lot of time to get used to them. To get to know them. I bet once you get used to Kace, you’ll like him too.”

  “Kace is a cool name,” Lily offered.

  “It’s a weird name,” Jack corrected.

  “Really?” I asked, hands on my hips. “You have uncles named Bull, Cade, Brock, Gage, Lucky, Asher and Wire, but you think that Kace is a weird name?”

  Jack stared at me, maintaining a serious, straight face for a moment, then the corner of his lips twitched .

  “Oh, I think I see a smile,” I sang, bending down to take a closer look. “Lily, help me pull it out, get on the other side.”

  My dutiful daughter jumped from her spot at the window and got on her brother’s other side. We both began ‘pulling’ at the air beside Jack’s face.

  He folded his arms. “I’m not a baby. You can’t get me with that,” he proclaimed, his tone serious but his mouth twitched again.

  “I see it, Lily!” I yelled. “It’s in there. We’ve just got to put in some elbow grease.”

  My daughter played her part well, screwing up her face with effort, pulling her little arms.

  Jack kept up his ‘I’m too old for this’ routine for about another five seconds before he flat out grinned, staring at us both. “You two are goofs.”

  I smiled at my son. “Ah, but you’re related to us by blood. You can’t escape us. In fact you have to love us.” I glanced to Lily, giving her a wink. “And kiss us!”

  “No!” he protested, but Lily and I were already laying smooches on either one of his cheeks.

  He made a big show of wiping his cheeks when we were done, rolling his eyes and everything.

  My heart healed up just a little in that moment. The stitches were crooked, ragged, and they’d left a mark when they came out, but it didn’t matter. My kids still laughed. They still loved. They had a future. I had to hold on to that.

  Kace knocked on the door not long after that. I didn’t want to answer. Wanted to pretend we had all disappeared. Too bad my car was in the driveway, which he would’ve noticed.

  So I opened the door.

  Kace was covered in sweat. He’d kept his cut on, which would’ve only made it hotter, but apparently, he was old school and wasn’t about to put the leather down just anywhere. Ranger was like that too.

  His shirt was clinging to his abs, his body, hair slicked back with sweat.

  I cursed myself for not offering him water or lemonade. That was the polite thing to do.

  “All done,” Kace grinned. His eyes flickered to my dress and legs, but returned to my eyes quickly.

  “Thank you,” I grated out, the words coming out like sandpaper. “For interrupting your day to do something I could’ve done myself,” I added, because for some reason, I couldn’t control my bitch around him. I’d always been soft, kind. Sure, I threw attitude when needed, but I hadn’t found the need very often. Flies with honey and all that.

  But something about this guy... pushed my buttons.

  He smirked, still not bothered by my bitchiness. “Not a problem. Glad to do it.”

  I stared at him then peered around him to my lawn, noticing the blaring sun that had been bearing down on him all afternoon. “Can I offer you a beer?”

  He tilted his head slightly, regarding me. “You really don’t want to offer me a beer, do you?”

  I swore a muscle in my brow twitched with the effort to keep a borderline pleasant expression in place. “I just did,” I gritted out.

  “But you don’t want to.”

  My hands fisted at my sides. “It’s the polite thing to do,” I answered, instead of admitting he was right.

  No, I did not want to offer this man a beer. I did not want him to come into my home, likely charming my daughter, maybe my son. I did not want him continuing to piss me off.

  I wanted him to leave so I could shut the blinds, snuggle up on the sofa with my kids, watch a movie and forget the rest of the world existed.

  He chuckled. “I’m not going to force you do to the polite thing, Lizzie. I’m an outlaw. Don’t need manners, just honesty.”

  Something about his chuckle and the way he said my name pissed me off too. “Okay, honestly, I don’t want to offer you a beer. I want to hang out with my kids for the rest of the afternoon, because on Sundays, we have movie and junk food evening. It’s our routine, and offering you a beer would screw with our routine, and it’s...” I trailed off, not about to tell him routines were all that held me together. “Important,” I finished instead. “So I feel incredibly rude for not wanting to offer you a beer, since you did a really nice thing for me, and I’m normally a nice person, but—”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself, Lizzie,” Kace interrupted. “You don’t have to be nice to me either. I didn’t do this expecting anything in return. In fact, if you’ll remember, I was kind of an asshole about it. So how about you spend time with your kids? I’ve got beer at home.”

  I pursed my lips. Despite not wanting to, I was starting to like this guy. But I wasn’t about to show that. To him or myself. Denial was best.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I’ll be here next week,” he replied with a wink, and before I could argue, he turned on his motorcycle boot and walked away. I watched him walk away, because it was a damn fine sight and I couldn’t help myself.

  Fuck.

  Kace was a man of his word.

  He turned up after lunch the next Sunday. Didn’t knock or anything, just parked his bike in the driveway, let himself into the garage and started mowing. Thankfully, the kids were out. Jack was two towns over playing in a soccer game. It was one of the other mothers in the team’s turn to carpool. If I was a good mother, I might’ve gone anyway, but it was bad enough that I had to sit through all the home games and have all of the mothers’ staring at me with pity, or worse coming up and trying to talk to me. That didn’t happen when I had Bex or Amy with me—they were far too intimidated by them to try it then—to ask me ‘how I was doing’. So I skipped away games when I could.

  Lily was having a ‘spa day’ at Amy’s house with the rest of the Sons of Templar girls. It was still difficult for me to let the kids o
ut of my sight. Though I knew that they’d be safe, that they’d come home to me, I still breathed a sigh of relief the second they returned home.

  Despite how much I wished I could constantly hold them close, never let them go and try to protect them from the world, I couldn’t do that to them. I had to let them grow. Somehow had to figure out how to survive through their absences, with the truth that it would only get worse once they got older. Jack had already started turning into the man I knew he was going to be. Strong. Passionate. Stubborn. Determined to patch in to his father’s club.

  Then there was Lily. Beautiful. Kind. Romantic. She was just like me. And she was growing up around many mini badasses. Yeah, I was in trouble.

  Which was probably why Gwen came knocking at the door with two coffees and a paper bag filled with muffins, presumably it was her shift to make sure I was handling everything okay on my own. Now that I’d opened the floodgates by attending the party, it seemed like my self-imposed isolation was over.

  The timing could not have been worse, considering she couldn’t have missed the man mowing my lawn.

  Maybe she wouldn’t mention it.

  Or maybe I was completely fucking delusional.

  “I brought coffee and muffins, but the drive over here was long, and it’s hot, so if you’ve got anything cold and alcoholic, I wouldn’t say no,” Gwen chirped, walking through the door.

  “I think I have something,” I mumbled.

  “What is Kace doing here?” Gwen asked the second she sat down on a bar stool.

  To be fair, I was expecting her to ask that question before she’d even got in the door, so she was showing restraint.

  “He’s mowing my lawn,” I replied, ignoring the coffee and pouring rosé into two glasses. It was after three on a Sunday, plus I wasn’t alone. It was allowed.

  “I see that,” she replied, grinning in approval. “But why is he mowing it?”

  “Because he got first-hand knowledge of how terrible I am at doing outdoor chores and took it upon himself to save our lawn,” I quipped.