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RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance)

Page 15

by Daphne Loveling


  “Mommy, where did Trig go?” she said absently as she watched the screen.

  “He had to leave, honey,” I fibbed. “He’ll be back sometime soon.”

  Or would he? Instinctively, I had just lied to Zoe once again about one of the men in her life. I told myself I was doing it to protect her, but I wasn’t so sure. If things had just ended between me and Trig, wouldn’t it be better to just tell Zoe the truth? Wouldn’t it be better to rip the bandaid off right away, instead of allowing her to keep hoping in vain that he would remember to care about her, like she still did with her father?

  And then, swirling around with everything else in my mixed-up head, was the fact that this whole untimely episode pushed the question of just what Trig and I were doing together to the surface.

  Trig said Zoe told David that he was my boyfriend.

  Of course Zoe thought that. Why wouldn’t she? Trig had been over here so frequently that Zoe automatically asked when he was coming over now, even on nights when we had made no plans to see one another. Zoe absolutely adored Trig, and I had done nothing to temper that adoration, which in retrospect had been a huge mistake.

  Of course he’s not my boyfriend, I told myself stubbornly. But we had been acting for all intents and purposes like a couple lately, and so of course Zoe had picked up on that.

  Which raised the question: Was Zoe right?

  For all of my protestations, to myself and to Vanessa, I had been acting like a lovesick girl where Trig was concerned.

  And if we were essentially conducting ourselves exactly like two people in a relationship, then did it really matter what I called it? Wasn’t I just lying to myself when I kept telling myself that I didn’t want any attachment to him? Wasn’t I pretending to hold myself back, when in reality I had already taken the plunge?

  No. The voice in my head was sharp. Just because you’re sleeping with him — just because you enjoy being around him — doesn’t mean anything more than that.

  I had let myself get in too deep emotionally, I realized now. But the rational part of me — the part of me that feared losing control more than anything — told me it was time to cut ties.

  I hadn’t exactly been fair to Trig, I knew. Maybe he actually did think he was my boyfriend. And I’d be lying to myself if I said that part of me didn’t thrill at the words he had said, indicating that he wanted that with me.

  “You need to figure out what you want. Do you want a man in your life who’ll be there for you, who you can trust? Or do you want someone you can just fuck and then push away when he gets too close?”

  Trig’s words echoed in my head over and over. Was he really saying he wanted to be the man in my life who was there for me?

  We had never once talked about the future when we were together. I avoided any discussion of it like the plague. But that wasn’t because I didn’t want a future with him, I realized. When I allowed myself to think about it now, something in my chest literally began to ache with longing.

  No, it wasn’t because I didn’t want a future with him.

  It was because I did.

  But I couldn’t afford to lose control. I couldn’t afford to take the chance.

  Little by little, I had begun to forget the pain that Trig had caused me all those years ago. I should never have let myself forget that. Pain was a teacher we couldn’t afford to ignore. Pain was what taught us to stay away from danger. Pain was what taught us the stove is hot. I should have known, from long experience, that we ignore the lesson pain teaches us at our peril.

  But I knew from bitter experience, you needed to be careful what you wished for. Because when you got it, it was often the exact opposite of what you hoped it would be.

  My marriage to David had been all about trusting my husband, and then being deceived, over and over. It had been about losing control of my life, and having to fight and scrape to get it back again.

  If I was honest with myself, I already had stronger feelings about Trig than I ever remember having for David. The way we moved together as one when he made love to me made me ache inside just to think about it. The way he made me unafraid to let go, to give in to the passion between us. I had never experienced those things with another man.

  And when I was with him, those feelings were exhilarating. But they were frightening, too.

  Fighting to escape my marriage and come out the other side intact had been one of the hardest things I had ever done. I wasn’t sure I would survive letting myself fall for Trig, and then finding out he wasn’t to be trusted.

  And then there was Zoe. I couldn’t afford to put her at risk for more heartbreak. Better for her not to have a male figure in her life at all, than bring another one into it who would just disappoint her.

  Not that Trig had done anything to hurt Zoe, I had to admit to myself. For a man who hadn’t spent a lot of time around children, he was a natural with her. And Zoe absolutely adored him.

  But her adoration was all the more reason to be afraid, wasn’t it? The more she loved him, the more she could be hurt by him. I remembered back to the first months of my separation with David. How she had cried on the days that Daddy was supposed to be coming to take her for the afternoon and didn’t bother to show up. I couldn’t put her through that again.

  But Trig would never do that to Zoe.

  The thought came unbidden to my head. And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew it was true.

  Still, if we broke up, it would be unreasonable to expect that he would keep seeing her. He wasn’t her father, after all.

  No, he’s not. And he’s not a thing like David, either.

  Ugh. It was almost like having Vanessa in my head, this little voice that had started arguing with me. My mind went back to the last conversation I had with her about Trig. How when I tried to tell her about how he had hurt me, it started to sound so small and insignificant.

  This anger and pain, which I had nursed inside me for all these years, started to sound like no more than silly adolescent drama. I had been embarrassed to reveal how the hurt still lived inside me, and even more so when Vanessa pointed out that most of the embarrassment was all in my head.

  She was right that I had never heard anything about Caleb’s remarks from anyone but Debbie Turner. If he had wanted to hurt me, wouldn’t he have spread it around to the whole school?

  Or, maybe he never said what Debbie said he had.

  Until Vanessa pointed out that possibility, it had never occurred to me.

  I wandered around like a zombie for the rest of the night, distracted by my thoughts to the point that I barely heard most of the things Zoe said to me.

  After putting her to bed and reading two stories with her, I went back down to the living room and lay on the couch, staring out the window at the darkened street. I wished in spite of myself that I could hear the sound of Trig’s truck pulling into the driveway.

  I missed him.

  Finally, I stood up and started up the stairs toward my bedroom with a sigh. I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  But one thing was becoming increasingly clear to me. As reluctant as I was to admit it. I hadn’t been fair to Trig. All along, I had been judging him based on the actions of two other people, instead of his own. The first was an emotionally abusive husband I never should have married.

  And the second? An adolescent boy, whom I never gave a chance to explain.

  19

  Trig

  The blowout with Eva had been on Friday, so I had the whole weekend to stew about it before my next scheduled physical therapy appointment.

  I spent a fair amount of it at the clubhouse. I’d been avoiding it for the most part, except for times when I needed to be there for club business. But lately my leg was feeling pretty good, and I was beginning to feel optimistic that I’d be able to start riding again soon.

  When I stepped through the door of the clubhouse and walked in, a chorus of male voices greeted me. Grey, Levi, Repo, Trig, and Cal came up and clapped me on the back. Alm
ost as soon as anyone could ask me how I was doing, shots of whiskey started to appear on the bar in front of me. It was the first time since getting shot that being here with my brothers felt like anything but a painful reminder of the life I was in danger of losing.

  So, for a couple of hours, the memory of Eva mostly receded, and I was able to just enjoy being with my club. A couple of the hang-around bitches wandered over and tried to get my attention, but I wasn’t interested. I knew from experience that they were willing to do just about anything to please, but the thought of being with anyone but Eva sort of turned my stomach. So I pushed them away and got back to the serious business of drinking and forgetting.

  Unfortunately, the “forgetting” part was made a little less easy by the appearance of a couple of the brothers’ old ladies.

  Seton and Cherish stopped by to see their men on their way out for a girls’ evening. The two of them were dressed and made up to the nines. Seton was wearing a form-fitting black dress that would have made any one of the men’s heads swivel lecherously in her direction — if she wasn’t the property of Grey Stone. Her dramatic makeup accentuated her striking features and her flashing brown eyes.

  Cherish was dressed in a slightly more modest but still sexy sapphire-blue dress that showed off her curves. The color made me immediately think of Eva’s deep blue eyes, and how beautiful she would look in a dress like that.

  Conflicting emotions of lust and regret filled me as my dick jumped to attention. I looked away before Cherish — or worse, her man Levi — could catch my eye and think I was lusting after her.

  I hadn’t seen either of the two women since I had gotten out of the hospital, and they both immediately rushed over when they saw me. I got a warm hug from Seton and a slightly more reserved hug and smile from Cherish.

  As they peppered me with questions about how I was doing, I tried not to notice how Grey’s arm curved possessively around Seton, or how the famously quiet and aloof Levi bent down to kiss Cherish’s forehead as we talked. The little gestures of intimacy between these two couples who were so obviously crazy about each other were sort of torture to watch.

  Not that I begrudged them their happiness. But I had come to the club to be distracted from thoughts of Eva, and this wasn’t helping. I was pretty happy when the two women left and I could go back to just drinking with my brothers.

  In the six weeks or so since I’d been shot, I hadn’t had a whole hell of a lot to drink, and it turned out that I’d become kind of a lightweight. The shots we were throwing back for most of the evening took their toll, and I ended up spending the night in one of the upstairs apartments we kept for brothers and friends who needed a place to stay. Or to fuck.

  It sounded like I was the only one up there not using an apartment for the latter that night, as the sounds of men groaning and women crying out in pleasure reached my ears while I tried to drift off to sleep.

  I hung around for a good part of the next day, too, nursing a hangover that for me was pretty unusual. Toward the end of the night before, I’d gotten into a drinking match with Moose, and I was a little the worse for wear in the morning.

  When the drinking started back up again in earnest that afternoon, I decided to take my leave and headed out in the truck.

  Back at home, I opened up the garage door and took the second good look at my bike that I’d had since before getting hurt. My leg was feeling okay, and the numbness was all but gone except for the occasional fuzziness, but I resisted the temptation to go out on a ride. Still, I straddled her and sat down, lifting the Harley up off the kickstand and relishing the familiar weight of her. It wouldn’t be long now, I was almost sure.

  Thanks to Eva.

  I’d made so much progress that Eva had scaled back my PT appointments to twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. When Tuesday rolled around, I almost didn’t go. The thought of seeing her after I’d stormed out of her house on Friday was pretty fucking unpleasant. But I made myself do it anyway. I was conscious of how much I’d almost lost, and I’d be damned if I was going to take any chances with my leg now.

  As shitty as I knew it was going to feel to be around Eva, I trusted the hell out of her professional opinion. The weeks I’d spent as her patient had taught me to admire her expertise and count myself lucky that she’d been the therapist assigned to me. I was sure I’d done harder things than have to be around a woman I loved, who didn’t love me. I just had to suck it up and deal with it.

  Because I did love her.

  And it hurt like hell.

  Eva was waiting by the appointment desk when I showed up.

  The look on her face was something I couldn’t quite get a read on. Her eyes kept searching mine, and I could hardly stand to look back. I didn’t know how to act like just one of her patients. Every time my gaze met hers, I couldn’t help but remember what they looked like when the pupils grew large and dark with passion. Every time she touched me, I thought of her fingertips grazing the skin on my cock as she teased me.

  Just like the first therapy session we’d ever had, I spent this one half-hard and struggling to conceal how much I wanted to take her into the back room and fuck her. Only this time, I was sure she could read it in my face, and feel it in the heat the passed between us.

  We spoke very little for the first half-hour or so. Finally, she broke the relative silence.

  “You’ve made a lot of progress, Trig. I think you’re on the road to being done with therapy. I’m going to suggest we reduce these sessions to once a week, provided you’ll continue doing your daily exercises at home.”

  Part of me wondered if this was Eva’s way of pushing me away as a patient. But I knew her too well by now to think that she would sacrifice what was best for someone she was treating.

  Even me.

  I nodded. “Great.”

  Eva bit her lip. “Trig.”

  I glanced at her. “Yeah?”

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry. About the other night.” She took a breath. “I wasn’t being fair to you. I overreacted when you told me that David called.”

  “That’s okay,” I grunted. I didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. Three days of trying to decipher what had happened had just left me exhausted and feeling like an idiot.

  “No, it’s not okay,” she protested. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized that in your place, I probably would have done the same thing, answering the phone. You couldn’t have known who it was.” She shook her head. “And you couldn’t have known that I try to keep Zoe’s interactions with her father to a minimum.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Trig, please.” She put her hand on my arm. “Can we start over?”

  I looked into her eyes.

  “I don’t know, Eva,” I said, shaking my head.

  And I didn’t.

  I just wasn’t up for any more damn games.

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Can… Can I just invite you over to talk? Without Zoe. I’d… like to come clean about a couple of things.” Her voice quavered. “No expectations, or anything like that. I just want to talk.”

  Shit. I had no idea what more there was to say between us. True, she’d just apologized for getting pissed with me. Which was all well and good.

  But still, the basic problem was still there. Eva had made it clear she didn’t even want to think about anything long-term between us. “No past, no future. Just the present,” she had said. At the same time, we had been spending almost every evening together.

  And then there was Zoe. One minute, Eva was thanking me for helping her out with her, and the next she’s telling me to butt out of her life. It just felt like there were land mines all over the place. I had no idea what she wanted anymore.

  All I knew was I didn’t want any more of this push-me pull-you shit. It was too damn confusing.

  So, it was a mystery to me why, when I opened my mouth to tell her no, what came out was ‘yes’.

  “Okay.” I shook my h
ead slightly as I said it. Jesus. This was probably a huge fucking mistake. “When?”

  She gave me a tremulous smile. “This Friday, maybe? I’ll make dinner. I’ll need to get a sitter, and I need to make sure with Mrs. Hayes that she’s feeling well enough to want to take Zoe into the evening.”

  Friday. Three days from now. At least that would give me time to get some emotional distance. And at least Zoe wouldn’t be there. It was going to be hard enough to sit across a table from Eva telling me whatever the hell she thought she needed to explain. The only thing that would make it worse would be Zoe, pulling at my reluctant heartstrings. Making me wish I was more important in her life, instead of being just some guy who gave her a stuffed dragon and occasionally babysat for her when her mom was in a bind.

  Because that was part of the problem. One I hadn’t even admitted to myself.

  Eva Van Buren had stolen my heart. But so had her little girl.

  20

  Eva

  I was more nervous than I could ever remember being in my life.

  I had spent three days trying to think of the perfect meal to prepare for Trig. Something that said, “I’m sorry, please forgive me,” but also, “I know this meal is really delicious, but I really didn’t spend hours and hours fretting over it in the kitchen trying to impress you.”

  In my desperation to make something that would wow him, I broke my cardinal rule: never make an untested recipe for guests.

  I found what looked like an absolutely scrumptious recipe for “easy Beef Wellington” that I was pretty sure he would love, given what I’d seen of his food preferences. Unfortunately, I underestimated how hard “easy” would be.

  By the time Trig was scheduled to arrive, I had managed to overcook the beef but undercook the pastry that enveloped it. Instead of a fluffy, golden-brown crust, I was staring at a soggy, lifeless blob when the doorbell rang.

 

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