Heart: BWWM Secret Baby Romance

by Kara Jones

  She climbed on the back of my bike without a word, slipping her arms around my sides and pressing her body against my back. The vibrations of the bike hummed through us, and I revved it a couple of times to get the full effect.

  She playfully smacked me in the chest and I took off, navigating back out onto the highway, then across it to the coast road.

  Her body pressed against mine was delicious, and with every turn, she squeezed a little tighter. She had great balance, and probably could have held on with just those powerful thighs of hers. The squeeze was just for me.

  I pulled down one country road, and then another, conscious of the gravel under my wheels. Eventually, we pulled up in front of a thicket of trees. I turned the bike off, and pulled off my helmet.

  "Uh..." said Hayley, after she had removed her own helmet. "Where are we?"

  She dismounted, and I followed suit. Then, I grabbed her hand and led her through the trees.

  When we came out on the other side, Hayley's breath caught in her throat. We were in a small clearing at the edge of a cliff. Underneath us, the waves crashed and roared against the rocks, churning and retreating to do it all over again.

  "I wasn't expecting this," was all Hayley said, as she went to the edge of the cliff. She sat down and dangled her feet into the abyss. I knew she would be the daring type.

  I joined her, sitting close enough so that our thighs touched. She didn't shimmy away.

  "This is where my best friend Eric and I used to come when we first got home from deployment," I explained. "We'd take our bikes and some beers, and come hang out and talk about everything we'd seen."

  She didn't rush me. She simply nodded her head and looked out to the horizon.

  "That sounds nice," she said when I didn't continue.

  "It was."

  "So, why are we here now?" she asked.

  "Because Eric's dead."

  Chapter Eight

  Hayley

  His words jarred me. I hadn't expected when he picked me up outside my house, that he had actually intended to let me in. Now that he was, I didn't want to scare him off. I wasn't sure whether I should ask questions or just be silent. I decided that he probably wouldn't just offer the story out to me, so I was going to have to take it.

  "I'm sorry," I said. He was leaning backward against his hands, and I reached mine back just enough to rest my fingers over his. He didn't shake me off, which I had half-expected him to do.

  "Why have you been in my bar for the past week?" I figured that talking about his friend was something that I could come back to. Besides, more than likely, the two topics were related.

  He scoffed. "Buchanan pulled rank on me and made me take a vacation." He gave me an amused sidelong glance. "I was getting into too many fights, if you can believe that."

  I chuckled. "You? In a fight? I can't imagine anyone wanting to lay a finger on you."

  He smiled wryly. "Yet, here I am."

  "I'm glad you are," I said.

  I think I must have surprised both of us. Gage certainly hadn't been expecting it. His eyes darted over to me, one eyebrow quirked.

  To break the tension, I added, "You've been keeping me fed in tips. I was on plain pasta before you came along."

  We laughed, and then descended into a comfortable silence. I don't know how long we sat that way. I probably would have been content to sit a bit longer, but I felt like there was more that needed to be aired out first. There was a war going on in that impenetrable head of his; I could practically hear the guns and cannons firing, and the charge of the cavalry. That man hadn't known peace in a long time.

  "Were you getting into fights because you blame yourself?" I asked.

  I knew I had hit the nail on the head when his hand retracted from beneath mine and he stood abruptly.

  "I told you why I'm here," he said darkly. "You got your prize."

  I scrambled onto my feet to face him. "This isn't about what I won in some stupid music bingo," I countered. "You need to face this yourself."

  His eyes trained onto mine, and in that moment, I saw him as he saw himself — a killer. His teeth ground together so hard that I could see his jaw tick, but he made no other movements.

  "Gage," I said softly. "Whatever happened —"

  "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't ha —"

  "I should have been there!"

  His outburst rang through the air, out over the ocean, where it was swallowed by the tumbling waves. The ferocity in his eyes melted before me, and I took a tentative step before him.

  "He needed me and I wasn't there," he said. "And now, he's dead."

  "Where were you?"

  He slipped off his leather jacket and dropped it to the grass. Then, he pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt so that I could see the top of his shoulder. A red, puckered scar marred his skin; a bullet wound.

  "On one of our missions, I got sloppy. Got shot," he explained. "Then, when Eric needed me, I was still in a medical tent recovering from a wound that should have never happened."

  I took another couple of steps toward him. We were only a foot or two away from each other now, and I raised a hand to his chest.

  "It wasn't your fault, Gage," I said.

  "I don't need your absolution," he said quietly.

  "No," I agreed. "You need your own."

  He sighed and placed his hand over mine, holding my fingers to his heartbeat. I could feel the heat of his skin beneath his shirt, and the hard outline of his muscle. He was skin and bones, flesh and blood, just like the rest of us. He just needed to remember that.

  "You're one helluva bartender," he commented.

  I smiled. "A girl's gotta have more than one talent."

  He turned and walked back to the cliff's edge, sitting back down with a sigh. I followed.

  “What are you doing bartending?” he asked.

  I didn’t mind the topic-change. I was confident I’d be able to bring it back around.

  “Saving money to get back to school, like I said,” I replied. He shook his head. “You know that’s not what I meant. Why’d you stop going to school in the first place? Why go bartend at a big bad biker bar? I’m sure there’s other things around for you to do.”

  I frowned. “I like being a bartender.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Well, it appeared we were both dragging out our skeletons into the light. “My ex-boyfriend was a jerk. Among other things, he took off with my savings and disappeared.”

  Gage whistled. “He should hope that I never meet him.”

  I tried not to grin like an idiot. “It wasn’t really my plan at the time,” I continued, “but I think I ended up working in a biker bar because I figured that nobody could get me there. I didn’t have to play nice if I wasn’t being respected.” I shrugged. “And, I guess if he ever came in, nobody would mind if I threw a bottle at his head.”

  Gage laughed heartily, tipping his head back and showing all of his straight white teeth. Dang, he was good looking. We settled back into our companionable silence for awhile. I was the first one to break it.

  "What was he like? Eric?" I asked.

  Gage let out another bark of laughter. "He was crazy. An absolute nut bar."

  "Sounds like the best kind of person."

  Gage's eyes tracked the flight of a seagull that passed by. "He was," he replied. "You would have liked him."

  I snorted. "I don't know. It took me awhile to like you." I gave him a playful jab in the ribs.

  He rubbed his ribs in fake affrontement. "Alright, fair enough; he would have liked you, then."

  I don't know why getting the approval of Gage's dead best friend was so heartwarming to me, but it was. I smiled and leaned into Gage's side, resting my head on his shoulder. I could tell that he looked down at me quizzically, and probably considered shaking me off, but he let me stay.

  Dusk began to settle, and we watched the last rays of the evening sun sink into t
he horizon together. Something had changed between us that day, and at first, I couldn't put my finger on it. When the last vestige of light was all but a memory, it hit me — trust. I trusted Gage now, and he trusted me.

  Funny how these things happen.

  "Should we go?" Gage asked.

  I didn't reply right away, and I think he took that as a sign of my assent. He stood up and lowered a hand down to help me up. I took it, but not because I was ready to go.

  He began walking back toward the woods, but when I wasn't following, he turned to face me. I think I meant to say something snarky about getting a move on, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that I had pulled off my jacket and dropped it to the ground.

  "Why don't we stay for a bit?" I asked huskily.

  His eyes nearly lit up in the darkness, and he closed the distance between us.

  "I thought you'd never ask."

  He stalked toward me and pulled me roughly against him, devouring my mouth with his. My whole body was on fire, sparking with every graze of his hand against my back, my side, wrapped in my hair. His lips spoke of hunger and need, and I responded in kind.

  His arms were a steel cage that embraced me, trapping me, protecting me. The rest of the world slipped away and I felt only him. If there was nothing else ever again, it wouldn’t have bothered me even slightly.

  We tumbled to the grass below, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks adding music to the dance of our entwined bodies.

  Chapter Nine

  Gage

  The feeling of Hayley's head on my chest made me want to rumble with pride. We were both tired, spent. We listened to the waves below and the sound of each other's heartbeats. She was mine now, and I would keep her in my arms for as long as I could.

  It was getting late though, and I had an idea that required getting back into town before sunrise.

  "We need to get up," I informed her. "It's time to head back."

  Hayley muttered something that sounded like "don't wanna", but ultimately, I was able to pull her up onto her feet. We both redressed, and then I grabbed her hand and led her back through the trees.

  It was pitch black under the leafy canopy, and I had to seriously watch where I stepped. Nonetheless, we made it back to the road without so much as scratch.

  I got on the bike and Hayley straddled the seat behind me. When I started it, she squeezed her arms around my middle, and I smirked under my visor.

  We cruised back through the darkness a little bit faster than when we had been going to the place earlier. Then, I had thought I would enjoy the ride more than the destination — now I knew the ride was only part of the fun, and that the real fun would begin after we had taken care of a couple matters of business.

  I stopped a couple blocks down from her parents' house.

  "What are we doing here?" she asked, her voice muffled by the helmet. She pulled it off. "I live, like two blocks that way."

  I pulled off my helmet too and craned my neck to catch her eye. "I know, but I didn't want to wake your parents up."

  She laughed. "Why not?"

  "Because I'm not sure that they'd approve of me taking you away for the next couple of days."

  Hayley got off the bike and stood in front of me. "What do you mean?"

  I smirked. "Exactly what I said, gorgeous," I replied. "You and I are going on a trip. We're going to go see some of those places you want to see. I figured you’d want to pack a bag."

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Oh, I thought I was about to get it for something.

  "I'm twenty-three, Gage," she said flatly. "I don't need my parents' approval to go away for a couple nights."

  I shrugged. "I know," I said, "but all the same, I doubt they'd appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night by some guy's bike right before he dragged you off to god knows where."

  She pursed her lips. They looked delicious. "Good point," she admitted.

  She placed her helmet down on the ground beside the bike and began a hurried walk toward her house. She returned a few minutes later with a small bag of essentials. I handed her helmet back to her, and pulled mine on too.

  Then, with a mighty roar, we careened off into the night.

  The End

  Bonus - Slade - Navy SEAL

  Chapter One

  I managed to resist punching a hole through the door of my commanding officer's office, but not by much. I knew that would only prove to him what he already suspected—that I was unhinged. Not that I was, but Christ, I didn't need to give him any reason to think so.

  I stalked out of the building and across the yard with a pissed off air that caused people to look away when they saw me. I would have laughed at the sight of the uniformed officers deliberately walking out of my way if I weren't so irate.

  A vacation, he said. You need to take a vacation.

  What the hell did he call sending me off to the desert, if not a vacation? I couldn't imagine a better time than fighting for my country and raising hell with my friends. Being idle wasn't going to solve anything.

  I struggled to remember that it was only two weeks, though even that felt like a lifetime.

  I hopped on my bike when I reached the parking lot, feeling the engine come to life beneath me. At least, I had my Harley. I could probably find somewhere to go for the next couple of weeks; somewhere that didn't leave a bad taste in my mouth.

  I rumbled off of the base, keeping my speed within the limit while I was in military cop jurisdiction. As soon as I was out of there though, I raced down the freeway to my place at the other end of town. Most of my buddies liked to stay on the base, but most of them hadn't inherited their mom's house in the suburbs. They teased me about being domesticated, but never complained when I through raging house parties after a return from tour.

  There wouldn't be a party this time.

  Lexa

  The morning light drifted through the slats in my bedroom window, landing warmly on the pillow by my head. I scrunched my eyes and groaned, turning to the side to try and escape the glare.

  My mom knocked on the door, calling out, "Lexa, honey. Don't you think it's time to wake up?"

  I scowled against the blanket, hoping that she would go away.

  She didn't. "You can't just lie in bed all day," she said sweetly.

  Actually, I could just lie in bed all day. And, I would. There was no reason for me to do anything but lie in bed all day. No school, no job, no purpose. I was living back at home with my parents because I'd had to give up my apartment in the city. And now, here I was at twenty two, being woken up by my mother.

  She knocked again.

  "I'm up!" I cried, before she could say another word. "I'll be out in a minute."

  I heard her footsteps retreating, and I pulled the blanket over my head. God damnit.

  When I was out of bed, I staggered out to the kitchen. My mom and stepdad were just about to eat breakfast. I guessed that was why she had been so adamant about waking me.

  "Sit down, honey," Mom said. "It'll get cold."

  I looked down at the unappetizing brown mush in my bowl; God how I hated oatmeal. I felt like I was in a Martha Stewart nightmare.

  I sat and ate anyway, exchanging small-talk with my mom and Frank, so they knew that I wasn't suicidal. I tried not to glare at my mom when she talked about her book club or when she asked Frank if he would take her to Costco after he got home from work. When Frank headed out, I took the opportunity to head back to my bedroom and crawl back under the covers to get away from my mom and her forced normalcy.

  I chanced a look out my window, mostly to see what the weather looked like (I was hoping for rain. No dice.) I saw that Slade Ronan was loading up his bike in his driveway. Our moms had been friends before Slade's mom kicked it. They'd gotten to know each other in that neighborly way that parents do when they have kids around the same age and live close to one another.

  My heart sank as I remembered all the smiling photos of my brother and Slade that
had been taken over the years. They'd met as awkward teenagers, but they'd turned into roguish hellians in no time at all.

  Where the hell was Slade going?

  I tore out of my room and down the stairs, surprising my mother who'd been dusting something or other. "Where are you going?" she called out after me.

  "I'll be right back!"

  "Lexa," she said, mollified. "Put some clothes on!"

  Only my mother, the desperate Stepford wife that she was, wouldn't have considered my pajama shorts and tank top clothes. I didn't care.

  I flung open the front door and ran across the road, my heels slapping against the pavement. Slade's eyes jolted up toward me as soon as he heard me moving in his direction; soldier instincts.

  "What the hell are you doing out here, Ginger?" he asked. "You'll fry to a crisp on a day like this."

  I frowned at his reference to my red hair and pale skin, but otherwise, ignored it. "Where are you going?"

  He shrugged. "Don't know… been told to take a vacation."

  I looked at his bike, then back at him and made a snap decision. "I’m coming with you," I said.

  His green eyes filled with amusement, and he fixed me with a wide grin. "Oh, are you now?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  He laughed gruffly, and then his expression turned hard. "No."

  I crossed my arms over my chest, conscious of the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. That might not have been an issue if his laugh hadn't sent a shiver through me. My nipples felt dangerously close to hardening.

  "Please," I said.

  He cocked his head and the light played with the facets of brown in his tousled hair. "Well, now that you've said please," he teased. "It's still a no."

  I didn't want to beg, but God, getting out of town seemed like the only thing that was going to keep me sane.

  I didn't think Slade had ever been particularly fond of me. It wasn't that he disliked me, just that he and my brother were seven years older and I'd always been a kid to him. But, we had both loved my brother and that was the one thing I knew he'd respect.