Wild Like the Wind

by Kristen Ashley

  So I looked back at High and walked to him.

  He opened his arms, and when I got near they closed around me, so I returned the favor.

  “Found your way home, I see,” I whispered in his ear.

  “Home found me,” he did not whisper back. “Got lucky.”

  I looked over his shoulder at Millie who now sported a tender, happy look, and at that look I wondered which one of them felt luckier.

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  He let me go but kept one hand at the small of my back to push me around him and into my own living room.

  I guessed it was time to move on from hugging.

  “Throw your cut anywhere, babe,” I said to him and looked at Millie. “Wine? Beer? Tequila shooters?”

  “Wine, whatever kind you have will be great,” she answered.

  “High?” I asked.

  “Beer, babe,” he grunted, proving he was Hound’s brethren beyond the cut he wore.

  “You guys get comfy, I’ll bring the drinks in,” I told them, thinking this would give me a shot at texting Hound.

  “We’ll help,” Millie offered.

  Shit.

  “No,” I said over my shoulder, seeing her glancing around my living room. “That’s cool.”

  “I haven’t seen your house yet, Keely,” she replied. “And from what I can see, I want to see more.”

  Yep.

  Shit.

  “Come on back then,” I murmured.

  I heard the distinctive sound of a leather cut hitting a sofa and they followed me back.

  I knew when Millie hit the kitchen because she exclaimed, “Holy crap.”

  I grinned.

  “This place is . . . this is . . . holy crap,” she went on.

  I grabbed the grocery bags from the table and set them on a counter and then went right to the fridge to yank out a beer as well as a bottle of white.

  “How many pitchers are there?” she asked.

  I looked to my wall that ran behind the stove and farm sink and fed up to a slanted, vaulted ceiling. The entire wall above an area of tiled backsplash was shelves filled with different beautifully but brightly painted pitchers and canisters I’d started collecting even before Graham had died.

  “A lot,” I answered.

  “The fireplace is amazing,” she noted.

  I turned my attention to the fireplace against the back wall that had a stucco mantel and chimney that was painted a deep, rustic yellow and adorned with decorative plates. It was filled with a wood burning stove that heated the kitchen in the winter in a way it was super cozy and suddenly walking my groceries from the garage to the kitchen didn’t seem like a chore anymore.

  “Yeah, I . . . actually . . .” I turned from popping the cap on High’s beer to High. “Didn’t you paint that?” I asked, handing him his beer.

  “Yup,” he answered, taking it. “With Hound.”

  Yeah.

  He’d painted it.

  With Hound.

  And Hound could help me paint our new kitchen.

  I was back to thinking dragging my groceries from garage to house was a chore.

  “I’ll grab the glasses,” Millie offered. “Where are they?”

  “Over there.” I indicated the other side of the kitchen with a jerk of my head as High pulled the bottle from my hands in a way I couldn’t fight, so I didn’t.

  “Corkscrew?” he asked.

  I shifted, opened a drawer and handed him the corkscrew.

  Millie came and set the glasses by him on the counter.

  “Take a seat,” he ordered, like I was in their kitchen.

  Ah, Chaos.

  It was going to suck, having to hate them for as long as it took me to get over whatever they did to my man, because they were often just plain lovable (even if it was sometimes in an annoying way).

  “We can take a tour later,” Millie declared, right then taking my hand and guiding me to my kitchen table.

  We sat.

  A cork popped out of a bottle.

  I watched High start to pour but looked back to Millie sitting at corners to me as she put her hand on mine on the table.

  “How are you, Keely?” she asked.

  There was something weighty about that question that I wasn’t sure I understood.

  “I’m good, babe. Though I’m sorry I didn’t reach out earlier when I heard you guys were back together, especially after what went down a while back, and definitely after seeing you at the funeral. Things have just been . . .” I hesitated before I decided it was safe to finish, “a little crazy.”

  She nodded her understanding but did it watching me very closely.

  When she said nothing, I carefully asked, “You?”

  “I’m, uh . . . well, I’m . . . that is,” her hand squeezed mine, “I was so, so sorry to hear about Black, honey.”

  Oh. Okay.

  She’d been gone for a long time. The news might even be relatively new news to her. And like everyone, she’d loved Black. And as with everyone, Black had loved her.

  “Thanks, Millie, that’s sweet, but it happened a long time ago,” I told her softly. “I’m more interested to know how things are going with you after what happened a few months ago.”

  “I’m fine, it’s good. I mean, it took a bit to get there because that was, well . . . not fun.”

  I figured, getting kidnapped and watching two men get murdered, that was the understatement of the year.

  Before I could mention that, she carried on, only mumbling, “But, um . . .” before weirdly her eyes darted to High and back to me like she was nervous.

  I put this down to High approaching with our filled wineglasses (though I still didn’t get the nervous part). He set them in front of us and then pulled out the chair at the head of the table, next to Millie, down from me, where I used to sit but now where Hound sat.

  He sprawled out like he paid the mortgage.

  I nearly laughed.

  Seriously.

  Chaos.

  It was then I noticed the look on his face, and I wasn’t feeling like laughing anymore.

  It was my eyes that were darting between High and Millie then.

  She was nervous.

  And he was vigilant.

  Disturbingly so.

  “What’s going on?” I asked slowly.

  “Okay, uh . . . I just . . .” Millie stammered, looked to High, to me, to High, and I felt my body start to string tight.

  Before I could ask again what was going on, High asked his own question.

  “You okay?”

  “I already answered that, and I was, until you two showed and my reunion with Millie got weird,” I answered.

  “Jag’s ridin’ Black’s bike,” he announced.

  I relaxed.

  They were worried about my state of mind now that my son had my dead husband’s bike.

  That I could handle.

  “Logan!” Millie snapped.

  “What?” he asked her.

  “You could have led into it,” she told him.

  “Like you were doin’?” he fired back.

  “I was getting there,” she returned.

  “When, next week?” he asked, but it was a sweet tease.

  She moved in her chair in a way I knew was her kicking him under the table.

  He didn’t mind, and I knew that when I saw him grin at her.

  And I sat there watching them, my tension gone, tickled freaking pink that they had this back again.

  “You guys, I’m fine,” I cut in on a smile and got both their attention. “It was just time. Time to let go. I had my little ceremony with Black and then gave Dutch his cut, Jag his bike, and . . .”

  I trailed off because High had been watching me while listening to me but his attention turned to the back door.

  My attention was turned from him when Millie asked, “Ceremony?”

  “It was kinda . . .” How to explain it? The way Hound put it came to me. “All I had left of him that didn’t ha
ve a permanent place in my heart. And the boys are both earning their patch. Since they are, I know now that they would get the significance of getting those things of their father’s. So the time was right, I held a little ceremony and then gave my boys their father.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Millie replied. “But, Keely, honey, that couldn’t have been easy.”

  “I took a long time saying my good-byes, babe,” I told her gently. “Really, I’m o—”

  I was interrupted by the back door being opened.

  In a flash, my entire body was tight as a bow, so I felt it in every inch as I twisted in my seat and watched Hound walk in.

  I hadn’t heard him pull in at the back, but High had.

  And since he pulled in at the back, he wouldn’t have seen High and Millie’s ride at the front.

  Maybe it was time to get my hearing tested.

  Damn.

  Hound saw High first, then Millie, then me.

  He stopped dead for just a beat before he stepped fully in and swung the door closed behind him.

  He said nothing.

  I said nothing.

  High and Millie said nothing.

  The air in the room was thick.

  I knew that at least High knew that Hound looked after me all these years.

  I also knew that High probably knew that in all that looking after, he’d never just let himself in the back door.

  Furthermore, we couldn’t lie.

  He was coming out to the Club soon, maybe even tomorrow. He couldn’t lie to High and Millie now and then tomorrow tell all the boys he was with me, we were living together, moving to a new house together, eventually getting married and building onto our family . . . together.

  Shit!

  What did I do?

  “Brother,” Hound grunted.

  “Brother,” High growled.

  Hound moved in and I held my breath.

  “Millie,” he greeted.

  “Hey, uh . . . Hound,” she said hesitantly, definitely not knowing what was going on but also definitely feeling the vibe.

  Hound shrugged off his cut, and I now felt every inch of skin tingling with adrenaline-fueled panic as he made it to me, tossed his cut to rest along the back of my chair like he normally did every time he came home and took it off.

  Then he bent down to touch his mouth briefly to mine.

  The air in the room became stifling.

  He lifted away but an inch.

  “Hey, babe,” he murmured.

  I stared into his eyes.

  They were determined.

  This was his home.

  This was where me made me breakfast and I made him dinner. Where we went to bed together and woke up together. Where we fucked and where we cuddled and where we hung out with beers in front of the TV.

  And I was his woman.

  No, he was not going to lie.

  He was staking his claim.

  “Hey, cowboy,” I whispered.

  He straightened and aimed his gaze right at his brother.

  I also aimed my gaze at High.

  High’s face was made of stone.

  “We’re together,” Hound announced. “We been together for months. We’re stayin’ together. Buyin’ a house together. Gettin’ married. Makin’ a baby girl together.”

  Holy shit!

  He was going all in with the baby girl and everything!

  My heart leapt right up into my throat, filling it so full I felt like I was choking.

  “We took our time, dealt with our shit, made sure it was solid,” Hound went on. “Dutch and Jagger know. Bev’s Keely’s girl, so she knows. Tomorrow, I was gonna share it with the brothers.”

  “Coincidence me sittin’ here while you walk in like you own Black’s house, touch Keely like she’s your property, and suddenly you’re gonna tell the brothers tomorrow, man,” High said tightly, this not doing anything to alleviate my strangled feeling.

  “Yeah, coincidence or bad timing, whatever way you wanna look at it,” Hound replied.

  “I look at it as bullshit,” High returned.

  Oh no.

  “Logan,” Millie whispered, and I knew by the tremor in her voice she was up to speed on the shit show that had just begun.

  “It’s not Black’s house.”

  That was me, and High’s angry eyes cut to me.

  “His money that bought it,” he bit out.

  Oh boy.

  Now I was getting angry.

  “That’s true but—” I began.

  “His money that kept it,” he spoke over me.

  “Perhaps mostly, however—” I tried again.

  “His house,” High gritted in conclusion.

  “You interrupt my woman again, High, we’ll be outside havin’ words,” Hound growled.

  Okay.

  Shit.

  No.

  High slowly got up from his chair.

  Millie got up from hers as he did, and she didn’t do it slowly.

  Fuck!

  “Men—” I started.

  “Logan—” Millie began.

  “Those words’ll come at the Compound. We’re callin’ in the brothers,” High decreed.

  Absolutely no.

  I shot out of my chair and slammed my fist on the table.

  “No!” I shrieked at High.

  “Low, let’s go into the other room and have a quick chat,” Millie said urgently to her man.

  Having made her way the short distance to High, she put her hand on his chest.

  But High’s eyes never left Hound.

  “You trailin’ me or am I trailin’ you?” he asked my man.

  “You sayin’ you won’t ride at my side?” Hound asked back.

  “I’m sayin’ we got shit to sort with the brothers,” High returned. “But I’m not on my bike, Hound. This goin’ down, even if I was, I still wouldn’t ride at your side.”

  Right.

  That did it.

  I’d had enough.

  “And I’m saying we knew this was going to happen and Hound is all in to pay whatever price you all have absolutely no right whatsoever to require of him,” I snapped. “But I am not.”

  “Baby,” Hound whispered, his hand coming to the small of my back.

  But my gaze never left High.

  “If Black was standing in this room, Hound wouldn’t be standing in this room. But Black hasn’t stood anywhere in eighteen years and I can’t even in my wildest imaginings think that he wouldn’t have wanted me to move on a long, long time ago and find my way back to happy,” I told High.

  “He would never want you to do that with a brother, Keely,” High bit out.

  “He would have wanted me to be happy whatever way I was genuinely happy, including finding that by falling in love with one of his brothers,” I shot back.

  “You think that then you didn’t know your man very well,” High retorted.

  Oh my God.

  He didn’t just say that right to my face.

  “Logan!” Millie snapped.

  “How dare you,” I whispered.

  “We’re takin’ this to the Compound,” Hound announced.

  I looked up at my man. “No you are not. We’re having dinner with our boys and telling them this shit has gone down, and tomorrow you can do what you planned to do.” I turned again to High. “You and your brothers are just gonna have to wait.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, Keely,” High returned.

  “Logan, you need to step into the other room with me,” Millie hissed.

  High didn’t move.

  I leaned into my hand on the table, fingers spread out, putting my weight into the pad of each, and I stared right into High’s eyes.

  “You owe me this,” I said quietly.

  “Keely, babe,” Hound murmured.

  I kept direct contact with High’s gaze.

  “Your shit took away one man, I’m claiming another. You owe me this, Logan Judd. And you fucking know it.”

  “Low, take
a second,” Millie urged, “and listen to Keely.”

  “But more,” I went on, pushing up from the table and stabbing a finger in his direction, “you owe Hound this, and you know that too.”

  A muscle ticked in High’s cheek.

  He knew that.

  Oh yeah he did.

  “I love him and he loves me,” I said softly. “He makes me happy. I haven’t been happy, truly happy, since I lost Black. Now I am. And I make him happy too. I make your brother happy, High. When was the last time you knew down to your bones your brother was happy?”

  I waited for a response to that question.

  None came.

  So I kept at him.

  “He’ll withstand whatever you force him to do and he’ll do that because he loves me. He’ll do that because he loved Black. And he’ll do that because he loves you. Now how much love do you have for him, High? That’s the question. You’ve known the man standing at my side for decades and you know the loyalty he has. The depth of love in his heart. The lengths he’ll go to for his brothers. You know all of that. What he’s going to learn is how deep all that flows back to him. And when he learns, I’ll learn it too, and if you take that in the wrong direction, I’ll never forget, High. I’ll do my duty as an old lady and I’ll find a way to forgive. But I will not ever forget.”

  I watched High’s jaw flex through his thick salt and pepper stubble then I turned to my man.

  I lifted a hand and curled it around the side of his neck, getting his attention as he dropped his gaze to look at me.

  There was determination there still, I could see.

  That was mingled with the love he had for me that was always right there, at the surface, all for me.

  “You do what you need to do, baby,” I told him. “If we’re having dinner, I’ll get on that. If we’re not and it comes time you need me, I’ll be there. Or when you come home, I’ll be waiting.”

  He nodded.

  I gave him a squeeze, got up on my toes, touched my lips to his then rocked back and let him go.

  I turned, snatched up my wineglass and walked to Millie.

  She took her hand from High’s chest and turned to me.

  “Wish we had more time to catch up, but we will, babe,” I said. “Just know I’m glad to have you back.”

  I bent in, touched my lips to her cheek, pulled away, slid my glance through High and then walked out of my kitchen, to the stairs and up to my room.

  Sitting in my sheepskin chair, I waited and I hoped. The hope part was hoping that Hound would come up, tell me we were having dinner with my sons, meaning both he and I would have time to prepare for what was to come.