Hardy

Home > Romance > Hardy > Page 6
Hardy Page 6

by Sam Crescent


  “It’s why I love you being on top, baby,” he said, moving behind her. He couldn’t resist kissing the back of her neck. Licking the delicate column of her neck, he sucked on her pulse, nipping at her tender flesh. He traced one of her arms, which was decorated in ink.

  “Stop trying to distract me.” She didn’t try to push him away.

  “I like distracting you.” He caressed down her chest, stroking over her nipple. She gasped, and again, she didn’t fight him, or make any move to fight him.

  “Look at her, Whizz,” she said.

  Reluctantly, he stared up at his computer screen, and there was the young girl Lacey had been trying to get him to adopt.

  “She’s fifteen, Lacey.”

  “So? Does that mean she can’t have a chance at life? She’s been moved from ten different foster homes since she went into the system. We don’t know what kind of life she’s had. The Skulls, our home, this could be the place for her.”

  They lived in a house not too far from the clubhouse. It was set back, and close to Tiny’s and Lash’s place. They all lived out of the clubhouse with Alex living the furthest away near the edge of town.

  “She’s a teenager. I thought you wanted a baby?”

  “I want to give people a home.”

  “People?”

  “They’re kids, Whizz. They deserve a second chance. We’ve got time for a baby, and if we don’t, I don’t care. This is what I want. I want to help a girl out like me. Please, Whizz, please,” she said.

  He hated it when she begged.

  “Lacey?”

  “Please, please, please, please.”

  She pressed her hands together, looking up at him, and pleading with her eyes.

  Fuck.

  “Fine. I’ll talk to the social worker, and arrange for us to meet Sally.”

  Lacey squealed throwing her arms around his waist. “I love you, I love you.”

  “You bloody better.”

  Chapter Four

  Rose sat between Baker and Hardy as they watched the movie. She was surprised to see it was a romantic comedy. Hardy hated those kinds of movies. Whenever she wanted to watch a romantic comedy she’d have to call on one of the girls.

  “Anyone want some popcorn?” Hardy asked.

  “Sure,” Baker and Rose said, at the same time.

  Hardy hit the pause button, and left them alone to enter the kitchen. She stared at the doorway waiting for him to return.

  “He’s trying,” Baker said.

  “I’m not used to this.” She rested her head on her hand, leaning up against the side of the sofa. “This is all crazy to me.”

  “I can’t offer any kind of advice. I just declared a woman as my old lady, and she doesn’t even know I want anything to do with her.”

  “You’ve made Millie your old lady?” she asked. Rose never asked about church.

  “Yeah. We’re going to provide her the extra protection at the shop that only an old lady can afford,” Baker said.

  “How are you going to get her to become your old lady?” Rose asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I was wondering if you’d stop by the shop, maybe invite her back here, cooking dinner, and I could stop by.”

  Rose burst out laughing. “So I’m the one who has to do all the work?”

  “I can’t get her alone,” he said. “When I do get her alone, she’s always talking about something or another. She’s clueless.”

  “That’s a bit harsh coming from you. You’re not exactly a bright spark right now.” She giggled.

  “Please, help me.”

  “I’ll go and invite her back here for dinner. You’ve got to do all the work though. I’m not going to say what a great guy you are, and then have you screwing everything up. I happen to like Millie.”

  “I like her, too.”

  Rose softened.

  “What are we talking about?” Hardy asked, coming back in with a large bowl of popcorn.

  “Millie,” Rose said.

  Hardy took his place, and Rose snagged a handful of popcorn.

  “I like her. She’s a great girl, a little slow on her own personal safety, but with time that will be rectified.” Hardy sat back, taking some popcorn for himself. “What’s the plan then?”

  “I’m going to invite her back here for some food. Baker’s going to be here, and ta-da, we’ll share a meal, have some fun. Hopefully, Millie won’t be so clueless by the end of the meal,” she said.

  “I could come round and help out,” Hardy said.

  Rose frowned. “How would you help?”

  “It’s quite simple. If I’m here then it wouldn’t be a case of Millie feeling like a third wheel. It would be a very subtle situation, and she wouldn’t be pressured either. A bunch of friends having some good food and some company.”

  “Minus the cuts,” Rose said, nodding at both men wearing The Skulls leather cuts.

  “What’s wrong with the cuts?” Baker asked.

  “To some women they can be a little scary. I think they’re scary at times.” Rose shrugged. “You want to make an impression on a woman, dress up. Be prepared to court her, and to bend over backwards for her.”

  Rose took some more popcorn.

  “Now that’s sorted, can we get back to watching the movie?” Hardy asked.

  “I could make her my famous chocolate cake. It’s got all the women happy at the clubhouse,” Baker said.

  “See, now we’re getting somewhere. She’ll fall for you instantly.”

  Rose had the privilege of tasting one of his chocolate cakes over the festive period, and it was unbelievable.

  “I can make a mean steak,” Hardy said.

  “I’m not disputing that. Baker can make a mean chocolate cake, and it’s to die for.” She tapped Hardy’s hand. “You’ve got many talents, baby.”

  They sat back and enjoyed the rest of the movie, eating popcorn, and laughing at the funny parts. Hardy rested his arm across the back of her chair, and she couldn’t help but smile. He was trying to court her, and it was such a sweet gesture that it brought tears to her eyes. Not once in their ten years of marriage did he try to court her, but she’d never asked either.

  When the credits rolled up, she grabbed the bowl and took it into the kitchen to wash. She came back to find Hardy waiting.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

  “You don’t have to leave. You can take the couch.”

  “This is his home,” Baker said. “I’ll take the couch, and he can take his own room.”

  “You don’t mind?” Hardy looked at Baker, and her.

  “I don’t mind. He’s only in the spare bedroom. If Baker’s happy with you taking the room, I’m not going to complain. The couch pulls out into a bed. I’ll go and grab some extra sheets.”

  She left the room, going to the supply closet, and taking out several sheets. Baker and Hardy were unfolding the couch as she brought them in. They made the bed together, and Rose said her goodnights to Baker.

  Walking upstairs with Hardy behind her brought back a great deal of memories. They used to walk upstairs with him behind her, touching, and enhancing her arousal. Licking her dry lips, she didn’t stop, and made her way straight toward the spare room. She opened the door, flicking on the light.

  “See, nothing has been changed. It’s just a spare room.”

  “We’re going to have to use the other spare room for a nursery,” he said, moving up behind her, and gripping her shoulders. She closed her eyes and relished the feel of his hands on her body. These feelings had never dissipated. Rose doubted they ever would. Hardy was the love of her life, and them having a baby together was the greatest feeling in the world. She touched her stomach, and Hardy leaned in close. “What are you thinking about?”

  She shivered, not from revulsion but from arousal. The bristles on his chin grazed across her skin. His hands moved from her shoulders to cover hers where they rested on he
r stomach.

  “I’m thinking about our baby,” she said.

  “I can’t believe it. This is our baby, Rose. A part of you and me, mixed together.”

  Rose rested her head back against his chest, loving the feel of being surrounded by him. He was so much taller than she was, and she missed this. She missed his heat and the way he held her.

  “I had a lovely night,” he said.

  “I did, too.”

  “We should do it more often.” He kissed her neck. “Rose, I’m being the good man here. The better man. The kind of man you deserve.”

  Rose nodded, pulling away from him. “It’s hard at times.”

  “I know. I want more than anything to take your hand, and go back to our bed. I can’t do it, not if you want us to work.”

  “I’m going to leave you then.” She turned around, cupped his cheek, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Goodnight, Hardy.”

  “Goodnight, Rose.”

  She closed his door, and crossed the hall to her own. She leaned against the door, and took several deep breaths. Her life was never going to be the same again. Hardy was changing, and he was becoming everything she’d always hoped for.

  Moving away from the door, she opened the wardrobe that still held his leather Skulls cut. Each member could get a new leather cut with the symbol of the club if the old one became too worn. Hardy had two jackets, the one he wore now, and the one that was old. Running her fingers over the worn leather, Rose felt tears close to the surface. Ten years was a long time to be holding a grudge. Tomorrow she was going to call her lawyer and tell him she wasn’t going ahead with the divorce. Hardy didn’t know she had the divorce papers locked away in her drawer. She couldn’t do it.

  Did this make her weak?

  She didn’t know anymore what it made her. Loving Hardy had always been her problem. Within the first few weeks of knowing him she’d fallen in love with him, and that had never gone away. Even when she’d found him cheating, she’d struggled with her feelings. She’d hated and loved him with equal measure.

  Closing the wardrobe, she made her way toward the bathroom. She unwrapped her hair from the tight knot above her head, and watched the red hair fall around her. Letting out a breath, she stared at her reflection.

  Removing all of her clothes, she turned to the full-length mirror, and stared at her body. Since her separation, Rose had filled out a little. She’d not been trying to keep Hardy’s attention, and she’d stopped dieting, going back into the kitchen. Rose loved to cook, and she’d stopped doing it for so long for fear of getting fat.

  She was now a much fuller size sixteen than the size ten she’d used to fight to keep. Rose no longer sneered at a burger, or was terrified when she ate an extra portion of fries. She was happy, more than happy.

  Would Hardy be happy with her like this?

  Stop thinking that way. It’s not about what he likes.

  Taking a quick shower, she washed away the day’s grime before heading to bed. She pulled on an old shirt that was still three sizes too big, and she climbed under the covers. It was warm, but her body was chilled after being in the shower.

  Turning over, she stared at the empty space that Hardy once slept in. Placing her hand on his pillow, she let out a sigh. She missed him, really missed him. He was across the hall, and she wished there wasn’t that distance between them.

  You have to do this.

  Don’t take him back.

  Let him in.

  Love him.

  Forgive him.

  It has been ten damn years. When are you going to cut him some slack?

  Make a decision or move on.

  You’re running out of options.

  Fighter was right. She was being cruel, and she needed to stop giving Hardy false hope, or get over her own problems.

  ****

  The following morning Hardy stood in the kitchen and didn’t have a clue what to do. Baker walked in without a shirt, and his jeans unbuttoned.

  “You’re awake early,” Baker said.

  “I wanted to surprise Rose with a breakfast. You got any ideas?”

  “She likes everything I’ve ever cooked. Can you cook?”

  Hardy stared at the stove, and the oven. He could lie his way through the morning, or he could be honest. “I can’t cook.”

  “Good for you, I’m a trained chef with a keen eye on pastry.” Baker walked to the fridge, grabbing out several rolls of pastry. “Some cheating is involved this early.”

  Hardy stood and watched as Baker worked his way around the kitchen, grabbing some sugar, chocolate, and spread. The man before him knew his way around the kitchen, and it was enthralling to watch. The confidence in the man was inspiring.

  “Why did you quit baking, man?” Hardy asked. It seemed completely insane to him to give something up that he loved.

  “I just couldn’t do it anymore. I can bake here, and at the clubhouse. Never in a bakery, never again.”

  “Why? You’re so good at it.”

  “Imagine trying to get on with your life, only everywhere you go memories of Rose remained. The difference is, Rose is dead, and you can’t move on. You remember the way she smiled, how happy you both were when you found out you were pregnant together.” Baker stopped talking and focused on the pastry in front of him. “Every memory that I have of baking in my shop is that of my dead wife. She was always there, chatting with me while I worked. Some of her friends thought she was crazy settling for a guy like me. How can a woman love a baker? He’s a pussy.” Baker smiled, going bright red. “She asked me one day to just come and pick her up in my arms, so I did. Lifting the large bags of flour and shit, it kept me in shape.” Baker shook his head, smiling. “I can bake now without it hurting too much.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what I’d do without my woman.” He and Rose were not on the best of terms, but at least she was alive.

  Baker worked chocolate spread all over the pastry, then sprinkled it with extra sugar and chocolate chips. Next, he rolled the pastries up, folding them inwards before placing on a tray. It wasn’t long before the pastries were in the oven baking, and tea was being brewed. Hardy grabbed some orange juice out of the fridge while Baker prepared fruit, eggs, and toast.

  “You might want to be ready. She’s going to vomit before she makes it down here,” Baker said.

  Wiping his hands on a towel, Hardy made his way upstairs. He was outside of her room when he heard the sound of vomiting coming from the bathroom. Without waiting for permission he rushed into the room and went for the bathroom.

  Pulling back Rose’s hair, he rubbed his hand across her back.

  “Hardy, what the fuck are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m helping you.” He rubbed her back, wrapping her hair around his fist.

  “I’m vomiting.”

  “I see.”

  He winced as she heaved a second and a third time. There was nothing he could do other than sit around, and listen to her vomit. The sound of it turned his stomach, but Hardy wasn’t going to be put off. He rubbed her back, taking care of her the way only a husband should.

  “I’ve got you, baby.”

  Finally it ended, and Rose slumped in his arms, clearly happy for it to be over.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “I know.” She rested her face against his calf.

  He caressed the back of her neck, trying to offer her as much comfort as he could. “Is it always this bad?”

  “Not all the time. It comes and goes all the time.” She got to her feet, and Hardy gave her the space she needed. He watched as she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and collected herself.

  While she was busy, he noticed the length of her legs exposed by the shirt. She rarely wore any clothes to bed, but whenever she did, she was always in larger than needed shirts. Even the negligee he purchased for her had to be larger than she needed. In the last couple of months, she’d gained a few pounds, and as far as Hardy was concerned, it made her look so damne
d desirable. He used to hate it when they’d go to places, and she’d go for the salad and ask for the dressing to be removed. No one liked going out to eat with the intention of having all the good stuff removed. What was the point in eating? Hardy hated it when he saw her eating carrot sticks or nibbling on celery. He’d never complained about it as he hadn’t wanted to upset or offend her.

  Fuck, he just wanted to reach out and run his hands all over her curves. She was so damned hot, and he wondered how big her ass was now. All he’d need to do was reach out, and lift her shirt up.

  Fisting his hand, he forced himself to stay in control.

  Get a grip, Hardy. She’s not ready for that kind of shit yet.

  “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  “I wasn’t in a rush. We’re all accepting Tate back home, and Lash is getting on his feet.” He wouldn’t be anywhere else but where he was, watching his woman get ready to face the day.

  “Where’s Baker?” she asked.

  “He’s cooking breakfast. I wanted to do it, but I didn’t have a clue what to do so I employed him.”

  She chuckled. “He’s amazing in the kitchen. Millie’s going to be spoilt with him.”

  “I don’t know. He seems a little hung up on his first wife. I doubt he’s moved on yet.”

  “Do we ever move on from our first loves?” she asked.

  Rose turned around, and Hardy stared into her eyes. “Have you?”

  “Have I what?”

  “Moved on? I was your first love. I want to know if you’ve moved on from me. If you’re ready for someone else.” The question was bitter on his tongue, and he tried to contain his anger.

  “How can you ask me that?”

  “We’re getting a divorce, Rose. You told me years ago I was your first love. I was the first man you were with.”

  “Hardy, you’ve been the only man I’ve ever been with.” She rubbed at her temples, clearly not in the mood to be talking about this right now.

  He couldn’t drop it. “Do you love me?”

  She released a sigh, averting her gaze.

  Breaking apart piece by piece, Hardy expected her to tell him she no longer did.

  “Yes, Hardy, I love you. I still love you, and I will always love you.” She looked into his eyes. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

 

‹ Prev