by Devney Perry
Maybe the version of me from months ago would have raised her chin. Would have demanded they let me pass or marched around them. Maybe then I would have shot them a glare as lethal as the ones they fired in my direction.
But there was little fight left in my bones, and I’d save it for another Tin Gypsy. I let down my guard. I showed them my vulnerability. And I said the words that were long overdue. “I’m sorry. For my actions. And for my father’s.”
Both men narrowed their gazes, their skepticism well earned.
“I don’t think the Warriors will be a threat to you anymore,” I said. “I can’t promise anything, but my dad agreed to let this go.”
“Except he’s a fucking liar,” Leo said.
“Yes, he is.”
Only as I’d thought back on our final conversation, there’d been a truth there. Maybe the only reason I’d noticed was because it was so rare. Only time would tell, but I doubted these men had anything to fear from the Arrowhead Warriors.
Dash and Leo studied me long enough that I was beginning to think they’d never move. But then Dash finally shifted and looked to Leo. They shared a single nod, then Dash turned and walked away.
Leo gave me a devilish grin, like I’d passed some sort of test. “Emmett’s not here. He took today off. I suspect you’ll find him at home.”
“Oh. Um . . . thanks.” Hell. I could have saved myself some stress, but this wasn’t an entirely wasted trip. I waved goodbye, then returned to my car, reversing out of the lot.
In my rearview, Leo stayed rooted in place but that smile on his face never faltered.
My nerves returned tenfold as I drove to Emmett’s. My hands trembled as I parked and shut off the Nova. He would probably slam the door in my face. I deserved that. But maybe not. And that maybe was enough to send me to the door to ring the bell.
My heart was in my throat as his footsteps approached beyond the door. Then there was a long pause, probably as he checked the peephole and saw my face. Then it opened and my fears just . . . melted away.
This was Emmett. My Ace. Even at his angriest, he wouldn’t shut me out. That wasn’t who he was.
He looked as breathtaking as ever. Insanely handsome with his hair up. He had on his jeans and a simple gray T-shirt. He’d trimmed his beard in the past week, the whiskers tight and clean to his strong jaw.
God, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to sink into his arms and drown. But first, I had to give my truths to the man I loved.
“I hate shrimp.”
He blinked.
“I like simple food too and I’ve made your tacos three times since the last night you made them for me. Your shower is the best shower in the world, and apparently, I can’t sleep if it’s not in your bed. The nights spent talking to you on your deck were the best nights of my life.”
My words seemed to hurt him because he swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the floor.
“My job is okay but I don’t love it. Being a lawyer was my father’s dream for me, and I’ve spent most of my life trying to prove myself to him. But I’m not going to do that anymore.”
Emmett’s face lifted and his eyes softened.
“I’m in love with a man I don’t deserve.” The lump in my throat began to choke me, but I pressed on. “I lied to you. I used you. And for that, I’m sorry. But I don’t regret falling in love with you. I never will.”
“Nova . . .” He caught himself on the false name.
But it wasn’t false. It was who I was. I was his Nova. He was my Ace. “You said that everything about me was a lie. It wasn’t. Not everything.”
“How can I trust you?”
I didn’t have that answer. I had no idea how he could trust me other than to try.
“I don’t . . .” He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know. This is too much.”
There it was. The inevitable slam of the door.
At least I could say I tried.
Before my tears could fall, before the break was severed clean, I moved in close, standing on my toes, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He dropped his forehead to mine.
I didn’t linger. I dragged in a long inhale of his spicy scent, tucking it away in the corner of my heart, then I stepped back. “Goodbye, Ace.”
He stepped back too. “Goodbye, Nova.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Emmett
Two months later . . .
“What do you want to do with his bike?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know.” I sat back in my chair, my plate empty on the dining room table.
Dad’s bike was the piece in the garage that we’d both been avoiding. Going through his things hadn’t been easy, but I’d been here every Sunday for the past two months to help Mom sort out his things. The process had been slow, intentionally so. Mom hadn’t wanted to rush it, so the two of us would pick a handful of items, reminisce about each one, then decide on what to do with them.
Every box had been sorted. The books that Mom had wanted to read were on her office bookshelves. Others had come home with me. Most of Dad’s clothes and housewares had been donated along with his old VHS collection of Westerns. I’d taken his hunting gear and fishing poles along with his tools and the dozen model cars he’d built over the years. They were on display on a new shelf in my basement.
Mom had been right about saying goodbye. It had been time. I thought of Dad every day, but the anger and the pain from his death that I’d been ignoring were finally beginning to ease.
Mom’s garage was nearly empty now besides her own belongings. All that was left, parked in the far stall, was Dad’s bike.
“What do you want to do with it?” I asked.
“We could sell it, then donate the proceeds to a charity in his name. Something for kids. He loved kids. He always thought kids going to trade schools needed more scholarships than were offered. Or . . . you can take it. He would have wanted you to have it.”
My gut twisted at the idea of selling Dad’s bike, even if it was for charity or a scholarship.
“I’ll take his bike,” I said. “Ride it this spring once the weather turns.”
She gave me a sad smile. “He would have liked that.”
Mom stood from the table, taking her plate. I did the same, following her to the kitchen, where I stepped to the sink and started on the dishes.
Today when I’d come over, there hadn’t been anything to go through in the garage. We’d finished last week, but I’d come over anyway. Not just to spend the time with Mom but because there wasn’t anything for me at home.
With nothing to sort in the garage, I’d shoveled the snow we’d gotten last night. Then I’d helped her hang a painting of Dad’s in her bedroom. The faucet in the guest bathroom had a leak, so I’d fixed that. She’d found a documentary this week that she thought I’d enjoy so while she’d cooked us dinner, I’d watched the show.
I’d spent most of the day here because my mother’s had become a favorite hiding spot. Another was the garage. These days, I was the first to arrive and unlock the shop and was still the last to leave each evening. On Saturdays when we were closed, I had the place to myself, so I’d turn up the music and lose myself in whatever project we had going.
Anything to keep my thoughts from Nova.
It never worked.
She was always there, a constant. Thinking of her was as automatic as blinking or breathing.
Mostly I thought about the nights we’d spent together at my house, replaying them and sorting through the lies and truths. Other times, I’d think about us in bed and usually that would require a cold shower. Then there were the harder moments to relive. The fire. The last day she’d come to visit, when she’d told me she loved me. The day I’d followed her to the prison.
I’d thought for sure I’d find her there after gloating to her father that she’d burned down our clubhouse. Nope, she’d walked out of the prison heartbroken. She’d cut Tucker out.
She’d chosen me.
“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what she meant.
She shot me a knowing glare. “Let me rephrase. You haven’t been yourself since the fire at the clubhouse.”
“Yeah.” I sighed.
Mom, like the rest of the world, thought I’d started that fire. The details had been in the newspaper—Bryce, like Luke, had gone along with the lie and printed that I’d started the fire on accident. The first Sunday I’d shown up here to help Mom, she’d met me at the door with a look of sheer disappointment.
The last time I’d received that look had been in high school after flunking a math test I shouldn’t have flunked.
“Whatever happened with that woman you were seeing?” she asked.
“Didn’t work out.”
“Oh.” Mom hadn’t brought it up once. She also hadn’t brought up Tera.
“She’s moving.” The words bubbled up before I could hold them in. I’d known for two days that Nova was moving but I hadn’t told anyone.
Not that I talked about Nova.
The weekend after she’d come to town and we’d said goodbye at my front door, our crew had gathered together at Dash’s place to talk about the Warriors. I’d told them that Nova had asked Tucker to leave us be and that she believed he’d honor his word. Then Leo had told me about Nova showing up at the garage.
The strength it must have taken her to go there and face them . . . Maybe if I’d known, I would have acted differently when she’d shown at the house.
Maybe not.
Regardless, that meeting was the last time I’d spoken of her to anyone.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said.
“We had our goodbye.” And it had ripped a hole in my chest.
Mom moved closer, reaching past me to shut off the water. Then she put her hand on my forearm. “You said it wasn’t serious. I didn’t realize that had changed.”
Leave it to my mother to see past my subtleties. My damn friends were the same way. They might not have brought Nova up in conversation, but I’d had my fair share of sympathetic looks in the past two months.
Through the window that overlooked the sink to the snow-covered yard, night was on its way. The light beside the back door cast a soft glow over the space and the fence that surrounded Mom’s yard had tufts of snow on the wooden pickets.
“I love her, Mom. I’ve never been in love with a woman before.”
Mom didn’t speak. She just kept her gentle touch on my arm.
I’d told Nova that I couldn’t trust her. But I did trust her. Even after so many lies, I saw the reason why. If I’d been in her position, I might have done the same damn thing. She’d been acting for her family, pushed to the extreme. Maybe I was a fool to think that the other pieces had been real but . . . fuck, they’d felt real.
“It’s complicated,” I said. “There are things in her past, in mine . . . I don’t know if we can get over them.”
“Emmett, if you’re looking for your future over your shoulder, you’re turned the wrong way.”
Well . . . damn. She sure wasn’t wrong.
“Does it have to do with the club?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“That fucking club.”
I jerked my eyes away from the window to my sweet, loving mother, who rarely said the word fuck, or any of its variations, and who never spoke ill of the club. Even after Dad had died, she hadn’t trashed the Tin Gypsies.
“I hate that club.” Her nostrils flared. “I hate what it did to your father. To you. The day you burned down that clubhouse, I cried I was so happy.”
My jaw dropped. “Mom, I . . . what?”
“I mean . . . I wasn’t happy to see your name in the newspaper’s police report. You know better than to get drunk and play with fire.”
I shook my head, wondering if this was a dream and I’d fallen asleep watching TV.
“How did you think I felt about the club?”
“I don’t know.” For years I’d thought she’d loved the Gypsies. Respected the brotherhood. She’d never told Dad to quit. She’d let him divorce her to keep her safe. “Not like this.”
“Your dad loved me but he’d been cheating on me for years.”
“No.”
“Oh, yes.”
Never. Dad wouldn’t have cheated on Mom. Hell, even after they’d divorced I hadn’t seen him with another woman.
“I can see what you’re thinking on your face. He cheated, but not with a woman. That club was his mistress. And he loved her. God, how he loved her. When he told me that we had to get divorced so that I’d be safe, I knew I’d never stand a chance. Because he’d tear our marriage apart before leaving that club. And I loved him enough not to ask him to leave it.”
“You never told me not to join.”
“Would it have done any good?”
“No,” I admitted.
I would have joined the club no matter Mom’s feelings. That had been my path and though I couldn’t regret it, there were days when I wondered what life would have been like had I chosen a different trail.
“I understand you have a loyalty to the club,” she said. “I really do. And I respect that loyalty, even if I can’t always relate, because I suspect it’s similar to the loyalty I feel for you. But all of that aside, the reality is . . . that club came between me and your dad. We both let it. Don’t repeat our mistakes. Don’t let the club steal your future like it did your father’s.”
“There is no club.”
And that was the answer.
There was no club.
Whatever had happened in the past with the Tin Gypsies and the Warriors didn’t matter because there was no club.
I swiped up a towel from the counter and dried my hands. Then I pulled my mother into my arms for a hug before kissing her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Bring her with you next Sunday. I’d like to meet this woman my son loves.”
“Nova. Her name is Nova.”
She smiled. “Nova.”
“Bye.” I rushed to the door, swiping my jacket from the coat rack, then stepped into the winter darkness.
The roads were quiet as I raced across town for the highway. I let out a sigh of relief that they’d plowed the roads as I hit the accelerator and headed toward Missoula.
Digging out my phone, I pulled up Nova’s location. In these past two months, she hadn’t taken the tracker off her phone. Maybe she hadn’t known how, or maybe . . . maybe she knew that I checked on it at least ten times per day.
She went to work at the same time each morning. She was home most evenings by six, and when she wasn’t, the little blue dot showed her at her mother’s house or with her sister. Nova’s life had been as unexciting as my own until two days ago, when I’d seen a check clear for a property in Oregon.
At first, I’d told myself that keeping tabs on her was simply because she was Tucker Talbot’s daughter. We hadn’t heard or seen anything from the Warriors, but we were just as diligent now as we had been for months. There was nothing to do but wait and watch.
So I’d watched Nova in the name of precaution. Really, I’d watched her because I couldn’t let her go.
When I’d seen that check clear, it hadn’t taken much to find the rental property details in Oregon. It also hadn’t taken much to find the real estate listing for her condo. What I’d told Mom was the truth.
She was moving.
Maybe I’d already lost her. Maybe she’d send me home without so much as a word. But if there was a chance, it was worth taking. We owed that to each other, didn’t we? Just to try?
There’d be no other woman for me. Nova had ruined me entirely and for the rest of my life, no one would take her place.
The hours on the road cleared my head but even with hundreds of miles, I wasn’t sure exactly what to say. I still hadn’t figured that out when I parked on her street and climbed out of my truck.
> The TV was on inside her condo, its flashing colors illuminating her living room and giving me a view of the boxes stacked everywhere as I went to the front door. After sucking in a deep breath, I knocked, then let my heart race as the TV was muted.
She was nearly soundless as she came to the door, nothing but a whisper of her feet on the floor. Then there was no sound at all, like she’d frozen. I waited, my breath lodged in my throat, until finally the lock clicked opened.
And there she was.
Her hair was twisted in a knot on top of her head. She didn’t have on any makeup. She wore a silk nightshirt that hit her midthigh. A thick cardigan billowed on her arms as she crossed them over her chest and stared at me with an expression that she’d purposefully blanked.
I didn’t know what to say. Standing there, seeing her as breathtaking as ever, I had no idea how to start this conversation. The only words that came to mind were . . .
“I love you.”
Her eyes widened but otherwise she didn’t move.
“I don’t know how to get to a place where we put this all behind us. Maybe we can’t. But I’d like to try.”
Nova stared at me, unblinking. And then her eyes flooded, and her arms fell to her sides. “I’d like that too.”
I took one step forward and held out my hand. “Emmett Stone.”
A smile pulled at her mouth as one tear dripped down her cheek. She swiped it away, then slipped her hand into mine. “June Johnson.”
“Nice to meet you, June.”
“Nova. June is my first name but everyone I love calls me by my middle name, Nova.”
“Nova.” I stepped inside, moving close enough to slide my palm against her cheek and catch another tear with my thumb.
Then I slammed my lips down on hers, swallowed a gasp before she threw her arms around my shoulders, holding on tight as I kicked the door closed behind me. Dragging my tongue across her lower lip, I savored the feel of her in my arms before I prodded her lips apart to sweep inside for a taste.
God, how I had missed her. How I’d craved her. If there were any doubts about this, they disappeared the moment her tongue tangled with mine and the world melted away.