Scratch (Devil's Boneyard MC 2)

by Harley Wylde

  “Oh, well. We can try using a regular cup, but maybe a plastic one? He did okay with the small bottle of milk this morning.”

  He nodded and took down a plastic cup, then poured milk into it. After putting the carton back in the fridge, he carried the cup over and set it on the table in front of us. I helped Caleb take a drink, grimacing as it dribbled down his chin. Scratch just handed me some napkins, but didn’t utter a word of complaint as the milk splashed onto the table from Caleb’s chin. I tried to clean up the mess we were making, but as Caleb bit into a cookie, crumbs fell everywhere and I pretty much gave up. Scratch didn’t seem to mind, if the smile on his face was any indication.

  It was sad that he hadn’t been able to raise his daughter. From what I’d seen so far, he probably was a great dad. Caleb trusted him, and that was saying something since he seldom trusted anyone. Scratch shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “At the risk of you hissing at me and showing your claws, we need to talk,” he said.

  “About what?” I asked, wondering if I’d been wrong all along and he was going to ask for payment of some sort.

  “There’s not much room in the backpack you carry around, which means the two of you don’t have many clothes.”

  “We’ll get by with what we’ve got for a while longer. We each have three outfits in there. I just roll them tightly to make them fit, and it keeps them from wrinkling much.” As if wrinkles really bothered me when most days I couldn’t even shower.

  His jaw firmed and the muscles in his arms bulged as his body tensed.

  “You’ve spent too much on us already,” I said, trying to make him see reason. “I can never repay you for all this.”

  “And I didn’t damn well ask you to, now did I?” he asked.

  “No, but…”

  His eyes turned frosty as he pushed away from the counter. When he came closer, his gaze softened, but I could tell he was frustrated. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper.

  “I’m not the man who took advantage of you and left you pregnant and alone on the streets. I’m not one of the men who offered you food or shelter in exchange for sexual favors. I have not done one damn thing to make you fear me or think for a moment that I want anything more than to help you.”

  I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze. He was right. He’d been nothing but kind to us, and hadn’t once tried to grab my ass or my breasts, hadn’t tried to get in my pants. But trust didn’t come easily to me. I probably trusted Scratch more than I had anyone else in a really long time, but he didn’t know that.

  I glanced at Caleb, but he was busy with his snack and wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to us. He hummed as he chewed on his cookie and sipped his milk. The table was a mess, but Scratch didn’t seem bothered by it.

  Scratch’s touch was gentle as he tipped my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye. I expected anger or resentment, but all I saw was a man who seemed to care what happened to us, even if I didn’t understand why.

  “As long as you’re under this roof, you have nothing to fear from anyone,” he said. “Not even me. I will lay down my life if that’s what it takes to keep you and your boy from harm. Despite everything you’ve been through, when I look in your eyes, I see innocence. You are the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, and I refuse to let anyone ruin that part of you.”

  My throat burned with unshed tears and I did something I shouldn’t have. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his. I felt him stiffen almost immediately and I pulled away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. His thumb stroked my cheek.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. It was impulsive, but I… I wanted to know what it was like to kiss you. I’ve never known a man as good as you are, and I wondered if kissing you would be different from the others.”

  His thumb pressed to my lower lip. “Kitten, that wasn’t a kiss. This is a kiss.”

  When Scratch claimed my lips, he didn’t do it gently. His kiss was harsh and demanding, his tongue sliding into my mouth as if he had every right. If I hadn’t been sitting down, my knees would have buckled. Never in my life had I been kissed so thoroughly. He slowly pulled back but didn’t release me. I found myself leaning toward him, wanting more. In that moment, I wasn’t a mom. I was a woman who desired a man. Something I hadn’t ever experienced before.

  “That’s a kiss, kitten. And it was the best one I’ve ever had.”

  I smiled faintly, then touched my fingers to my lips. They tingled and I still felt the pressure of his mouth on mine.

  “But you need to stop thinking I’m some saint,” he said. “I’m not a good man, and I’ve done some seriously bad shit. I’ll never hurt you, but don’t think for one second that I’m some tame, sweet old man.”

  “I never called you old,” I said. “Or tame. But you are sweet. At least, you are to me and Caleb. No one’s ever treated us so good before.”

  “Then the people in your life were complete idiots.”

  “Scratch?”

  “Damon,” he said. “When we’re alone, you can call me Damon.”

  “Damon,” I said softly. “Will you kiss me again?”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He drew away from me. “You’re far too tempting, Clarity, and too damn young for me.”

  My back straightened. “I may be young, but I’ve lived through more than other women my age. I lived on the streets twice now, had a kid when I was seventeen, I’ve been raped and propositioned like I’m a whore all because I don’t have money. I’ve seen the ugly side of life, Damon. Watched people get killed just for a few dollars or a handful of drugs. You don’t have to sugarcoat things for me. I’m a big girl, and I can handle whatever things in your past you think should scare me.”

  His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “All right, kitten. But let’s table the discussion for now.”

  My sweet boy finished his snack and Scratch put the cup in the sink, then wiped down the table and swept up the crumbs. Caleb began squirming and whimpering. I knew what that meant and shot up from my chair before he had an accident.

  “Bathroom?” I asked, hauling Caleb up against my chest, hoping he didn’t pee on himself and me.

  Scratch pointed to a door behind me. I hurried through it and barely got Caleb onto the toilet in time. He was still too small to learn to pee standing up. I’d left the door open and Scratch peered around the doorframe.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, he just needed to go pretty bad.”

  “He’s not in pull-ups?”

  I shook my head. “We had to learn to potty train pretty quick the last two months. It’s hard to get diapers or pull-ups when you’re living on the street. He’s been a good boy, though, and picked it up pretty quick. Getting him to hold it until I find a bathroom isn’t always easy, though.”

  “What about at night now that he’ll have his own room?” he asked.

  I hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. He hasn’t slept by himself since he potty trained.”

  “When he’s done, we’re going to go shopping for some stuff. And don’t argue with me, kitten. You may have claws, but I’m bigger and meaner. There’s shit you both need and you’re damn sure going to have it.”

  Part of me wanted to argue and tell him we’d be fine with what we had, but at the same time it was really nice that someone wanted to take care of us. No one had given a shit about me in a long time, and no one had ever cared about what Caleb needed or wanted except me. I didn’t care what Scratch had done, or would do in the future. He was a good man when it came to me and my son, and that meant the world to me.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll let you buy some stuff for us, but not too much. We’ve made do with the few things in the backpack for the past two months. I don’t need material things to make me happy, Scratch. They’re nice and all, but I’ve found that what’s important is my son and the fact that w
e’re together. I could have given him up, found him a stable home with a loving couple, but I couldn’t handle parting with him. And I’m glad because if I didn’t have him, I’d have given up.”

  I helped Caleb wash his hands, and then to my surprise, he lifted his arms for Scratch to pick him up. The man smiled at my boy before lifting him, and I swear it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I felt my heart thaw a little more and my throat tightened with emotion. I wanted that for Caleb, for both of us. A man who cared, who could smile at us like that. Didn’t hurt that his kiss had damn near turned me into a puddle of goo. I’d never in my life been kissed like that.

  “Come on, kitten,” he said. “Let’s go shopping, and then I think this little guy could use a nap.”

  Caleb yawned as soon as Scratch said the word nap, then laid his head on the big man’s shoulder. Yeah, I was in trouble. The big, tough biker holding my sweet baby boy did strange things to me. I’d never been the type to swoon, but that’s how I felt watching Scratch with my son. If ever there was a man who was meant to be a father, it was him. It didn’t seem right he’d been robbed of taking care of his daughter when she was little. I didn’t know what had happened with the mom, and I was scared to ask. He’s said she’d lied to him, and if there had ever been a trace of her in this house, it was long gone. No pictures, no womanly touches.

  The upstairs hallway held a few photos. I’d noticed a woman who looked close to my age, and I’d assumed that was his daughter. There’d been others of a cute little boy near Caleb’s age, and an older man with long blond hair and a beard. He’d been wearing a cut like Scratch so I assumed he was either in Scratch’s club or another one. I didn’t really understand this world, but I was willing to learn. I’d seen a few episodes of Sons of Anarchy so I wasn’t completely in the dark, but it hadn’t really been my type of show so I hadn’t stuck it out past the first three episodes.

  I followed them out to the truck, and Scratch opened my door before buckling Caleb into his seat. I’d expected him to just stop at one of those twenty-four-hour stores that carried a little bit of everything, but instead he took us to the mall. I wanted to protest but bit my lip instead. Accepting a place to stay had been hard enough, but all this? It was too much, but telling him that didn’t seem to do anything.

  “First thing we’re doing is getting this little guy a stroller,” Scratch said. “He’ll enjoy the mall a bit more if he can ride through it, and if he gets tired he can sleep.”

  “Not an expensive one,” I said.

  He smirked and something told me that my son was about to own the priciest, fanciest stroller in the mall. Scratch reached for my hand and clasped our fingers together, then led the way. He bought Caleb a big padded stroller that probably weighed a ton, then he grabbed a diaper bag and anything he seemed to think my son needed for our outing through the mall. After he’d paid, he put everything into the new diaper bag, then stuck it in the basket under the stroller seat.

  I apparently wasn’t the only one who found the biker hot while he was pushing the stroller. I swear I heard women sighing as we passed by, and I couldn’t blame them. There was just something about seeing a rough guy like Scratch being so damn gentle and caring with a small child. I think ovaries were exploding all over the mall as we went from store to store. Eventually, he let me push the stroller so he could carry our purchases, and there were far too many sacks in my opinion. He definitely bought way more than we needed, but he couldn’t be deterred. If I tried to object, he just arched an eyebrow and stared me down until I relented.

  Probably a good thing we weren’t in a relationship. It would be far too easy for him to get his way all the time. When I couldn’t walk another step, I convinced him it was time to head home, but he stubbornly herded me into a Bath and Body Works store. Everything smelled so good, and I migrated over to the aromatherapy selection. I’d never been someone who enjoyed wearing perfume, but the eucalyptus and mint bodywash, lotion, and spray weren’t overpowering, and I ended up with all three.

  I wandered the store with Caleb while Scratch paid for my things, except he had a much too large bag when he made it back to my side. I eyed the sack, then him, but he just smiled and tipped his head toward the door. I had no idea what else was in that bag, but I had a feeling he’d spent way too much. The man had easily spent over five hundred dollars on us today, and if I added in the furniture and toys at his house, it was well over a thousand. I couldn’t even imagine having that kind of money, much less spending it all in one day. I didn’t think for one minute that his little shop paid enough to cover all that, but I wasn’t about to ask how he earned his money. There were whispers around town about his club, and some of them were probably true. Not the sacrificing of virgins, though, unless the poor girls died from too much sex. Every member that I’d seen of the Devil’s Boneyard was sexy in some way or another, and I doubted any of them lacked for female companionship.

  Scratch loaded our bags into the back floorboard of his truck, then put Caleb in his seat. The stroller went into the bed of the truck, and he stood there frowning at it. I went to stand beside him and placed my hand on his arm, drawing his attention.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Need a bigger vehicle.”

  “Bigger than a truck?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting upward. “This thing is massive.”

  “It needs more space inside. Maybe a big SUV.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you’re going to buy a new car just because Caleb and I are staying with you right now? You know that’s insane, right?”

  He muttered something that I didn’t quite catch.

  “What?” I asked.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What’s insane is that I want to keep the two of you. Get in the truck, Clarity.”

  He wanted to keep us? I wasn’t entirely certain what he meant by that, but the kiss we’d shared in the kitchen gave me an idea. I didn’t think us being a permanent part of his life would include me sleeping in a separate bedroom, and for the first time in my life, the thought of sharing a bed with a man was… exciting.

  “Make me,” I said, folding my arms.

  He bit the inside of his cheek, but the humor shining in his eyes told me he wasn’t mad at me for defying him.

  “Make you? Are you three? Get your ass in the truck, kitten.”

  I shook my head.

  Scratch placed his hands on my shoulders, turned me around and marched me to the passenger door of the truck. He pulled it open, then swatted my ass hard enough that it stung. I gasped and jerked my gaze up to his. That evil smirk was back in place, the one I wanted to kiss, the one that made me want to get naked. He placed his hands at my waist and lifted me into the truck, his hands lingering on my body.

  “You’re playing with fire, kitten, and you’re going to get burned.”

  Maybe, but I had a feeling it was the good kind of burn. The kind that left you satisfied and achy the next morning. The kind I’d only read about in books. He clicked my seatbelt into place, gave me a heated look, then shut the door. I fanned myself as he walked around to the driver’s side, and I wondered if it was possible to combust from sexual tension. The swagger in his walk was quite a sight to behold, and I wasn’t the only one noticing. Two women on the next aisle were checking him out and I stared them down. It wasn’t like I had a claim on the man, but maybe I wanted to? I felt so confused.

  Maybe I just needed a few good nights of sleep, then whatever I was feeling would die down. The last thing I needed was to get involved with Scratch. He’d said himself that he was too old for me. If he kept kissing me, though, all bets were off. The way his lips devoured mine, I knew I wouldn’t be able to remain strong. I’d end up throwing myself into his arms and begging him to show me what it was supposed to be like between a man and a woman. Something told me that if I took that step, if I went to his bed, I’d never want to leave. Scratch was the kind of man who ruined you for anyone else. I didn’t have to be experie
nced to know that. The way my body reacted to him gave me that message loud and clear.

  Chapter Four

  Scratch

  What the fuck are you doing, old man? She’s younger than your damn daughter. Giving myself a pep talk didn’t stop my dick from getting hard when I was around Clarity. I’d managed to think of her as just some helpless waif who needed some assistance. Then I’d gone and kissed her. Biggest fucking mistake I’d ever made because now all I wanted was another taste.

  Caleb was upstairs in his new bedroom sleeping, and Clarity was putting her things away in the bedroom I’d given her. Fuck if I didn’t want her things mixed in with mine, though. It was completely insane, and I felt like a pervert for wanting in her pants. It was more than just that, though. I enjoyed the time we’d spent together today, liked talking to her, and just something as simple as holding her hand. I’d never felt like that about a woman before, which meant I was in deep shit.

  The doorbell rang and I went to get it, not wanting it to ring a second time and wake up Caleb. Poor kid probably hadn’t had a decent nap since they’d been out on the streets. I pulled open the door and stared at the President of my club. Cinder tossed down his cigarette and put it out with his boot before pushing past me into the house.

  “Well, come in,” I said.

  “What the fuck, Scratch?” Cinder asked. “Half the club is talking about some woman and kid you moved into your house. Did you knock up some club slut?”

  “Again, you mean?” I asked, thinking about my daughter’s mother. “Clarity is so far from being a club slut the mere thought of that is laughable.”

  “But you aren’t denying knocking up some woman?” he asked.

  I crossed my arms and knew I needed to make a decision. I could claim Caleb as mine, and get shit for supposedly being with a seventeen-year-old girl, which is how old she’d been when she was raped, or I could tell the truth. Then again, I didn’t know shit about genetics. Could two dark-haired people have a kid with white-blond hair? It was possible no one would believe me anyway, just from looking at the kid, but I didn’t like the thought of the club thinking badly of Clarity, and I didn’t want them to know she was raped, not unless she wanted to tell them. That shit was personal, and I knew most women didn’t exactly want to scream something like that from the rooftops. I remained mute as I stared at my Pres, but I heard the soft tread of footsteps and knew Clarity would be here any second.