Chapter Two
B raelynn
I ignore that he called me a bitch as I look at my sleeping son. “His name is Ryder Sawyer.” I look back to him apologetically. “I didn’t know your last name.” The confession burns, but what’s done is done. “He's six weeks old. I had him on November 11th.” My lips turn down as I think about him coming into the world kicking and screaming. “I had some complications, and he was delivered via emergency cesarean.” God, was that scary. I remind myself that we’re both still alive and that’s all that matters. Pushing past those thoughts, I continue, “He's a good baby; sleeps most of the time, and he’s a little porker when it comes to his food.” I laugh. “Loves to be held.”
He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“He has your eyes. And your temper,” I add.
His eyebrow arches. “My temper?”
I nod. “Oh yeah. He's got quite the set of lungs on him when he’s not happy.”
Legend chuckles, the sound sending a warm tingle down my spine.
It's strange, this feeling of connection after being apart for such a long time.
Legend's smile fades, his expression turning serious. “About Daisy?—”
I hold up my hand, not wanting to hear about who he’s been doing since I saw him last. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.” I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt, but how pissed off can I be? He never promised me anything.
“Well, you came here for a reason. What do you need, Braelynn? What can I do to help?”
I drop my head, ashamed at how far I’ve fallen. I used to be a professional cheerleader for an NFL football team and now— “I need money. I'm flat broke. When I found out I was pregnant, the organization was forced to let me go—liability clause in my contract,” I explain. I get they had to cover their asses, but it was the way the assholes cut me loose like it was nothing that hit the hardest. “I’ve been scraping by on my savings, but that’s dried up. I sold my car, but that’s all gone too.” Losing my car about broke my heart. “Lost my apartment.” I sigh, “I have nothing left after the hospital drained my account.”
“What do you mean drained your account?”
I sigh. “Apparently, you have to read the fine print when you sign up for a payment plan. That’s why I came here. I’m broke, and it turns out Cheerleader doesn’t go far on a job application.”
When I finally look up to meet Legend’s eyes, he’s looking at me like he can’t believe all the things I’ve been through. “Fuck, baby. If I’d known?—”
I lift a hand to stop him again. I don’t need him to apologize. “I know.”
He leans forward and I can see the seriousness in his eyes. “Not going to let you struggle anymore, babe. I got you.”
My shoulders fall in relief. Thank the gods.
“I didn’t expect you to take this news so well,” I tell him honestly.
“There’s a lot we still need to talk about, babe. But you should know, I had every intention of tracking you down in the next couple of weeks.”
Why now, I wonder as I take in the room around us, noting that it seems as if the party is dying down. Guess our dramatic entrance put a damper on the mood. Oops.
I look back to Legend. “What do you mean you were going to track me down?”
“I’ll explain later. It’s a long fucking story.” Without any further explanation, he slides out of the booth and offers me his hand. “Come on. You and Ryder can stay with me.”
I take his hand, feeling a spark of electricity. It's the same spark I felt the first time we met.
Don’t go there, Brae.
Pushing the attraction to the very back corner of my mind, I follow behind him as he leads me through the clubhouse and out into the lot. I’m shocked when he stops beside a sleek black SUV. “No bike?”
He shrugs his shoulders as he opens the rear door. “Like I said, baby. It’s a long fucking story.”
“O-kay.” He’s not making any sense at all, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. With a baby and a car seat… yeah, the SUV is a blessing at the moment.
Taking Ry’s seat from him, I secure it into the backseat, then step back and close the door, surprised to find him still standing there, holding the passenger door open for me to climb in.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
He watches as I buckle in before closing the door and prowling around the hood, his eyes glued to mine through the windshield as he goes. I swallow the knot in my throat. Jesus, why does everything this damn man does turn me on?
He opens the door and slides behind the wheel. “Ready?”
“Uhm.” I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
I hear him chuckle as he starts the truck and puts it in drive.
A few miles down the road, I start to get fidgety. “Where are we going again?”
“My apartment.”
Smooth, Brae. Real smooth.
I keep my mouth shut for the rest of the drive across town, and before I know it, we’re pulling up to a massive warehouse.
“This doesn’t look like any apartment I’ve ever seen,” I murmur as Legend parks.
As he opens his door, he shoots me a wink. Like a fiend, I watch him stalk around the hood of the SUV, come right to my door, and open it.
“It’s upstairs. My office is through there.” He points to the glass door on the first floor that reads, Fugitive Recovery Services .
“What is Fugitive Recovery Services?” I ask, sliding out of the truck and watching as he opens the door to get Ry.
“Baby, I’m a bounty hunter.”
Now it’s my turn to have my mind blown. “Come again?”
Legend’s lips twitch. “I chase fugitives who jump bail. For a fee, of course.”
“Of course,” I deadpan. Because why would anyone chase after dangerous criminals without getting paid?
He chuckles as he grabs my bag and motions to a set of stairs running along the side of the building.
I follow him up and stand back to wait for him to unlock the door.
“Home, sweet home,” he says, pushing the door open to reveal an open-concept living space that takes up the entire top floor of the warehouse.
Holy shit. This place is amazing.
Floor-to-ceiling windows line one wall, the focal point the breathtaking Miami skyline. There’s exposed brick with metal beams overhead. A massive leather sectional dominates the living space, facing a state-of-the-art entertainment system. The kitchen is all gleaming stainless steel and dark granite, with a huge island and barstools shoved underneath. Off to the side is a hallway that leads to what I assume are the bedrooms.
The whole space screams luxury bachelor pad.
Legend moves around me and sets my bag down on the couch before turning to face me. “There's a bedroom where you can lay him down,” he says, gesturing towards the hallway. “I'll show you.”
I trail behind him down the hall to an open door. Inside, there's a twin bed, a desk with a computer sitting on top of it, and a large cork board with lots of mugshots and wanted posters. Judging by the looks of it, he must have used this space as an office.
“This was your work?” I ask, eyeing his stuff as I unbuckle Ryder and lift him into my arms. He stirs, unhappy about being messed with, and his little face scrunching up as he lets out an angry cry.
“He’s getting hungry,” I think the words out loud.
I can feel Legend’s eyes on me as I sit down on the edge of the bed and lift my shirt. Without thought to the audience, I pull down the cup of my bra and position Ryder at my breast. “Shh, it's okay, little man,” I whisper.
“Brae,” I hear Legend rasp.
My eyes jump to his, and again, I see the mix of emotions playing out on his face: surprise, awe, lust.
I ignore it all.
I didn’t come here for that. I came here for my son.
Once Ryder’s satisfied, I straighten my shirt, then gently lift him onto my shoulder and pat his back until he lets out a burp that could rival a grown man.
“He falls asleep fast.”
I glance down at my son and grin. He’s out for the count. “He does. It’s what they call a milk coma,” I tease.
With Ry good for a few more hours, I carefully situate him on the bed, change him into a fresh diaper, and surround him with the pillows to keep him from rolling off. Not that he’s started rolling yet, but I’m not willing to risk it.
Turning back to Legend, I see he’s looking me over with a critical eye. “You look tired.”
I’m not sure if I should be offended or impressed. I decide that I’m neither and admit, “I am.”
He nods. “Come on.” I follow him out of the office and into the next room.
His room.
“Legend…” I start, my eyes going to the California king bed that dominates the space. Us, in a room with a bed, that’s not exactly a smart idea.
Ignoring my plea, he crowds my space, his arms going around my waist and pulling me flush to his body. “Missed you, baby.”
My hands go to his chest. “I don’t think—” The words die on my lips when his mouth fuses with mine.
I whimper, sinking deeper into him.
I know this is a bad idea, but I don’t resist.
We were always good at this.