She finally walked to the couch and slumped onto it, hand over her eyes as she let out a harsh, broken breath. “I don’t know, Cage. I don’t know what’s going on with me. You being back here… it’s doing something to me.” She dropped her hand and wearily looked him over. “I never thought you’d be wearing that leather.”
“They aren’t that bad,” he said, feeling bile rise in his throat as he said it. Why was he defending them when he wasn’t even really a part of them?
He guessed the problem was he’d been born to that life, it was in his blood, and deep down, he’d always felt unworthy of her as the dirty son of the head of a biker gang.
No matter where he went or what he did, he never felt like he washed that stink away, like he’d ever be good enough for her. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t come back sooner. Because he was waiting to be good enough.
But if her safety were in jeopardy, and his sources said it was, then he had to come regardless of whether she was ready for him.
“I just wanted to see you,” he said. “I’ve been waiting so long. When I was deployed, and after, you were all I thought about.”
She folded her arms, pushing up her generous breasts. “Apparently not, because you haven’t spoken to me in years.”
“I know,” he said. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know when to come back.”
“But why the gang?” she asked.
He bit his lower lip and let it drag painfully over his teeth as he let it go. “I just need you to trust me for now. Even if I’m in the Aces.”
“I don’t know what you want,” she said, throwing up her hands. “You’re here. I get that. You want to kiss me, take ownership, I guess. You want to come and go as you please. But, Cage, I can’t let you break my heart again.”
Something inside him was shattered by that. “What do you mean break your heart?”
“You stopped writing,” she said.
He stared at her, words frozen on his tongue. I didn’t know what to say. I was being a coward. I didn’t know how to come back.
“I didn’t mean to.”
She sighed and stood, stretching, and he tried not to look at her body. “I have to go over to Willow’s today.” She frowned. “I guess I can’t take you over to see her, not when you’re wearing the patch. I don’t want the kids there to get the wrong idea.”
He raised an eyebrow. Willow was the one who had contacted him about Carrie possibly being in trouble. She’d been the closest thing he had to a mother, after he’d gotten to know her through his frequent visits with Carrie. “She still taking in kids?”
Carrie nodded. “Of course. And I help her. I can’t keep any here. I work too much and I’m not foster approved, but I help support her. And I go see the kids a lot.”
“You support her?” he asked. “How? The bar?”
She nodded.
Damn. He’d hoped maybe just letting go of the bar would be the best way to keep the Aces’s attention off her for now. But she couldn’t.
He’d also sort of hoped to be able to whisk her away from this town, take her to New York with him where she could live at his place while he did his security work.
But she had a life here.
“I’d love to see the kids,” he said.
She shook her head as she pulled a jug of chocolate milk out of the fridge and poured two huge glasses. “You aren’t exactly a good influence right now.”
He frowned. She was right. But he wanted to be a part of everything she was a part of, and he hated his current undercover assignment was messing that up.
But the info he was gathering on the Aces right now would shut down their chapter in Winter Falls permanently, allowing Willow and Carrie and everyone else in the town to finally have peace.
And then what? Some happily ever after where he swept Carrie away from this town? First, he’d have to tell her about his inner bear, and that was daunting.
It was all a big mess. He was almost glad he’d gotten the call to come out here to deal with the gang, because a sense of duty or a need to protect always overrode any of his stupid insecurities.
“Earth to Cage?” Carrie asked, holding out a glass.
He took it and drank it in one long go.
She grinned and refilled it, and he shook his head and set it down.
He sat at the small, round table in the center of her small kitchen and looked around. There was a sliding glass door that led out to a small grass lawn with a redwood fence right behind it and then another house behind that.
She had no space here. She deserved a mansion with lots of rooms of her own.
But she seemed happy. He watched her as she busied herself fixing toast for breakfast, her cute butt swaying in her work clothes, which she must have been wearing when she fell asleep in her chair.
Her hair was askew, her makeup faded. There were circles under her eyes from lack of sleep… and he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
She turned to him, a tired smile on her heart-shaped face, and he felt his heart skip a beat.
When she smiled at him, he felt more nervous than he’d ever felt in the field.
“It really is good to see you,” she said, buttering toast and putting it on a plate and handing it to him.
He slid it back toward her. “I already ate. You go ahead.”
She nodded and picked up the toast and began to eat it with her milk. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I keep dreaming about us, starting with when we met.”
“I thought you were the most beautiful thing ever, even then,” he said seriously.
“Oh, come on. We were kids,” she said.
“Nope, I really thought so.” He’d had to see her, had to let her meet the boy behind the bear she’d saved. He’d been so bonded to her, even then.
That had been a fun day. And a turning point in his life. His first real friend. Though, if he were honest, it was more like love at first sight.
When she’d refused to be his old lady, she’d been the first person to give him a glimpse of the life he could have outside the compound. If he left the gang.
“I thought you were cute, too,” she said. “We were such kids, weren’t we?”
“Yes,” he said. “But sometimes kids know even better than adults.”
“I had no idea what was coming for us,” she said. “I just knew I loved it every time I saw you. Willow loved you, too. She asked about you often, you know.”
“She wrote me,” he said. “Has been writing me.”
“I suppose I should have kept writing even when you stopped,” she said. “But it was painful. And I assumed you’d moved on and I was bothering you. After all, I wasn’t going to hold you to some some crush you had as a teen…”
“I was eighteen. I knew what I wanted. And here I am.”
She shrugged. “Here you are. So did you come back for me, or did you come back for the gang? Because obviously, they knew you were in town before I did.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He could only hope this was over soon so he could explain everything to her in a way that would make sense.
Until then, he had to keep her safe from men like Harvey, men who wanted to claim what was his.
“You know it’d be easier for me if you’d take my patch,” he said.
“Ugh, the ‘property of’ patches?” she said. “No thanks.” Then her eyes lit up. “Is that why you joined up with them?” she asked. “Some misguided attempt to protect me from them by being one of them?”
He sighed. She was close to the truth but still so, so off. “No. Look, it’s natural for me to be there, no matter the reasons. Maybe I just want to make money for a while, or maybe I’m trying to work out some things from my childhood. But you should know me by now, Carrie. I’m not going to do anything bad, and I’m not going to let them do anything bad to you. But it’d be a lot easier if you were wearing my patch.”
“I’ve been fine for years,” she said. “I don’t see why you’re su
ddenly worrying about it now.”
“Because you’ve stayed off their radar for years,” he said. “You didn’t have anything they wanted. But then you had to go and buy Harry’s bar.”
“They were going to steal it out from under Serge, the latest owner. Not even leave him enough to move to be with the rest of his family.” She sighed. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I know,” Cage said. “But that still puts you in the spotlight. They want that bar. It’s prime real estate and would be perfect to deal out of. They aren’t going to let up. And now they’re noticing more than the bar. They’re noticing you, too.”
“And they wouldn’t if I had your patch?”
“No,” he said. “No other brothers could make a move on you. That’s all it means.”
Her mouth twisted in disgust. “Ugh, it’s all so caveman. There’s a reason I avoid the whole MC thing. I just… I don’t need a man to protect me.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, standing from his chair and coming over to her. “Yes, you definitely do need a man to protect you, and I’m just the one to do it.”
She pulled away from him, but his hands were on either side of her on the table, caging her in. She sighed and turned to face him. “Cage, what point are you trying to make? I’ve been fine on my own for years.”
“And now you aren’t on your own anymore. Come on. Be my old lady.”
“No,” she snapped. “I have to be an example to the kids at Willow’s. I love them. And someone has to.”
His mouth turned up ruefully at one corner. “That’s right. You’re good at loving the kids everyone else has forgotten.” He stood, removing his hands from either side of her, and looked down at her. “So was that all I was, Carrie? Pity?”
“No,” she said, standing to come chest to chest with him. “Never. There’s a difference in how I care for them and how I cared for—care for you.”
He flinched at the past tense, but she’d fixed it. What was the truth? Had he truly ruined everything for them by coming back too late and coming back looking like he was part of the gang she hated?
A muscle by his brow ticked.
No, it wasn’t too late, because he wouldn’t let it be.
“When we go see the kids, just don’t wear the patch. Just wear it at the bar,” he said.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“And I can come see the kids and just take the patch off.” He shook his head. “If it’s anything like it used to be, half those kids have family at the compound anyway.”
She nodded tightly. “It’s just like it used to be. Men taking what they want with no notice of the consequences.”
Cage’s chest tightened. He’d been one of those consequences no one cared about. No one until Carrie.
“I want to see what’s important to you,” he said, standing straight. “I want to protect what you want to protect.”
She walked closer, running her finger over the patch on his jacket. “You can’t. Not like this.”
He caught her hand in his, an iron, gentle grip, and tugged her against him. “Honey, the only way I can protect you is like this.” Then he jerked her up and caught her lips with his mouth, parting them and easily slipping inside to entwine his tongue with hers in a warm, wet embrace.
He felt her knees nearly weaken, and he slid an arm around her waist, anchoring her.
He was the only one that could do this to her. And every time she forgot, he’d be the one to remind her.
When she was breathless, gasping in his arms, he set her back on her feet. She stared up at him blankly, and he reached forward, coming close.
She held her breath, her lips slightly parted, and then he grabbed the last piece of toast behind her and took a huge bite as he walked away.
He raised a hand in greeting. “I’ll see you tonight, then,” he said, opening her front door. “You’re going to be mine, Carrie. It’s just a matter of time.”
Then before she could retort, he was gone.
The soldier in him knew sometimes retreat was necessary in order to advance.
3
Carrie spent the rest of the morning getting ready and trying not to think about her handsome soldier.
Even with the leather and the fact that she’d seen him with the Aces and he’d asked her to be his old lady, she couldn’t help seeing through all of that to the man on the other side.
He had a way of carrying himself, a confident assurance of his ability that must have come from whatever he’d done in the military. He hadn’t talked about it much in his letters. He’d just said it was confidential and he couldn’t tell her where he was going or what he was doing, so she assumed Special Forces.
She could totally see Cage doing stuff like that, with his incredible intelligence and his physical abilities.
Unlike her, an average small town girl who had to do the best with what she had to work with.
You’re going to be mine. It’s only a matter of time.
She shook her head. No, she wasn’t. She’d wanted Cage for a long time, but not like this. She had people depending on her, and Cage would have to shape up if he wanted to be a part of her life.
As much as she wanted him, she couldn’t let him interfere with her higher purpose to keep the bar and protect Willow and the kids.
Still, a part of her was glad he was here to at least protect her from Harvey or other Aces who got ideas about more. Hopefully, just his interest would be enough to make the other men back down.
She hummed as she made half a dozen sandwiches to take with her to Willow’s. She knew which kids liked what, and she made two peanut butter and jelly, two peanut butter and honey, and two plain peanut butter. Then she packed a six-pack of fun-size milk jugs along with the sandwiches into a cooler.
She felt a million times better now that she was showered, clean, and ready to go see some of her favorite people in the world.
She loved that her job at the bar only took up her time in the evenings. And since it was summer and school was out, the kids would all be at home, and Willow could always use help.
A little part of her ached that she hadn’t been able to bring Cage over. She knew Willow would have loved to see him.
It was a beautiful day, so she decided to walk the few blocks to get to Willow’s house. She turned off the main road toward a small gravel one that took a turn toward the woods. Willow’s place was out of the way, on a beautiful two-acre lot that was perfect for kids to run free on.
Carrie’s basket was light on her arm as she made the trip, and sooner than she would have guessed, she was opening the wooden gate and letting herself onto Willow’s land.
“Sunshine Ranch,” the sign on the gate read. Carrie grinned. A perfect name on this sunshiny day, but the meaning went deeper. Willow brought sunshine to kids who’d had nothing but storm clouds, and Carrie was determined to help.
Especially as it seemed she’d never have kids of her own. Maybe that was her purpose, to help other kids instead.
Even though her heart ached at the thought of a tiny version of her and Cage. That would have been nice maybe.
When she got to the front walk, she saw a little girl out front, pouting and crouching in front of a dandelion.
The girl was an echo of Carrie herself. Small, young, defensive about the world and everything in it.
She had dirty-blond hair that hung limply around her sullen face and a thin, pinched look to her that made a person just want to wrap their arms around her and make the hurt go away.
Then again, that’s how Carrie felt about all of the children she met here.
Janet looked up at Carrie and squinted. Then a grin spread over her face and she hopped up. At only nine years old, and having been malnourished when she came to Willow, Janet was a tiny thing. She wore cut-off jean shorts and a unicorn tee shirt that Carrie remembered seeing on other kids who had since left the house.
Nothing went to waste at Sunshine Ranch.
“Did you bring sandwiches?”
Janice asked, reaching on her toes to try and get a look. “Jam for me?” Her voice was small and hopeful.
Carrie pulled the basket back gently. “Are you doing punishment?”
Janet’s face fell. “Yes. I got mad at the twins for messing with my bed. They took my blanket for a fort!” Her little face squished up in anger, and Carrie put a hand on her shoulder. She knew how it felt to have so little and to feel so defensive of anyone taking it.
“I’m sure they meant to give it back.”
Janet gave her a sneaky grin. “Yeah, because I put a bug in Tim’s pants when he wasn’t watching.” She giggled uncontrollably at the thought of it, and Carrie tried not to laugh as well and encourage her.
Instead, she walked to the dandelion Janet had been pouting in front of. “Here, I’ll show you a trick to these,” she said. “Did you know I used to do these when I was here?”
Janet wrinkled her nose. “You don’t seem like you could ever be bad.”
Carrie laughed. “Oh, I was bad.” She took the dandelion tool off the ground and expertly pulled up a weed, roots and all. Janet’s eyes widened. “See? Easy. Just really stick it in there.”
“I’m not strong like you,” Janet said mournfully. She eyed the basket. “I want a sandwich.”
“And I have one right here for you,” Carrie said, patting the basket. “So hurry up with the dandelions, because we all want to see you inside.”
Janet nodded, grumbling, but was already making her way to the next weed, making Carrie smile.
It was this kind of thing that helped the kids turn out okay. Someone cared enough to discipline them, and that meant something. Even if it was annoying at the time.
She walked over the lawn to the front door and winced when she heard the sounds of things crashing around inside. Oh dear.
She knocked hard on the door, hoping to be heard over the racket.
“One minute!” a harried voice called from inside. Willow. The next moment, the door was opened a crack, and Willow’s face appeared. She had a long, thin face with large, doe eyes in a soft shade of blue that had faded slightly with age. Her long gray hair had escaped her ponytail on either side of her face. But her mouth widened into a smile as she saw Carrie and the basket.
Bear To The Bone (Bear Claw Security 1) Page 3