CHAPTER 5
PRESENT DAY
brIDGER
“Please, more.”
The echo of Avery’s voice in my head is like a mirage stretching back into my memory, and in front of me like a temptation I was never meant to give into.
I haven’t been able to forget a second of our night together, not that I’ve tried very hard to do so.
Still, it’s clung to me in a way no other night I’ve spent with a woman has before.
When I woke up the next morning in the hotel room, I was alone while her vanilla and cream scent wrapped around me. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I took her to a hotel room and fucked her until she passed out with a satisfied little smile gracing her lips.
We didn’t talk about anything more than one night together. Hell, we weren’t expecting more. It was written all over us in a way that couldn’t be disguised under the dim lighting of Aces.
I shouldn’t have felt any type of way when I woke up alone.
But I did. Disappointment and annoyance were on the front lines like they were marching into battle.
That was after the sliver of hope I kept in my heart was snuffed out as the morning light filtered through the slightly parted curtains and I hadn’t faced reality yet.
There are times when you wake up slowly, like you need a moment before you face the day. It’s a slow draw as sleep fades and reality settles in. Then there are times when everything snaps into focus, and you can’t help but recognize how everything has shifted.
That morning was like the second type of waking up. I was asleep with images of Avery’s body curled against mine. Then I was awake with only a cold bed next to me and rumpled sheets as a witness to a night spent with someone who could have been more.
If I was willing to let her in.
If I hadn’t taken her to a hotel room and fucked her as if she didn’t sparkle like she was special.
If I could believe the love that I have seen around me is something I deserve.
But she was gone, and I’ve spent the last five months convincing myself it was for the best. I’m still not certain I believe my own bullshit.
My back cracks as I straighten up in my chair and look down at the drawing I’ve been working on after an earlier consultation.
The rose petals look like they’re weeping blood, and, as I look at it, a sense of beautiful devastation washes over me.
The raven holding the rose is staring at me, mocking me, judging me.
“Yeah,” I mutter to my drawing, “I fucked up.”
Ellis is already looking at me when I look up, the white noise which always exists in the hum of the shop unable to quiet my mind and my memories of Avery. It’s ridiculous that I’m still hung up on her. While you won’t catch me admitting it out loud, I am.
“You good, Bridger?” The way Ellis is looking at me, like I’m a bomb with a wire that needs to be snipped sooner rather than later, but only if it’s the right wire, is a look I’ve gotten used to over the last five months.
If I was silent and broody before I met Avery, the time since then has been filled with doubling down on my mood while adding claws. Big bear claws I swipe at people. They might think it’s for my own amusement, but it’s really in the hope that someone else will feel this with me.
“Yeah,” I grunt.
“He’s still hung up on the girl he met at Aces,” Travis pipes up from his station, all cocky swager and knowing in his tone.
I don’t say anything because you don’t lie to family. And while he’s poking at me to get me to react, like he’s been doing for the last five months, he’s also not wrong. I am hung up on Avery.
But I also know that I’m not good enough for her. She had clean skin without a single mark on it. And I looked. Everywhere.
There was an air of grace and civility around her. That along with the gravity in her voice told me that she’s educated. Far more than I ever was.
Her clothes were soft and well made; expensive. She wore them like she was made to do it. It wasn’t like she put on an ill-fitting costume and expected it to look natural.
Everything about her was effortless.
And the total opposite of me.
What do I have to offer a woman like that?
People would take one look at me next to her, especially in whatever circles she walks within, and curl their lip. The worst is how they wouldn’t pass judgment on me, at least not in a way I couldn’t handle, but they would sneer at her as I bring down her worth.
It’s a truth I cannot shake, and one which has me stuck in this state of wanting while knowing going our separate ways was for the best.
“Oooo-hhhh,” Knox holds it out and trills the word like he’s on the playground and not a grown ass man. “The blonde we saw him talking to before he just disappeared without saying goodbye?”
Monroe giggles but tries to hide it behind her hand. The glare I shoot at Knox and Travis should shut them up, but it doesn’t. Which…doesn’t surprise me at all.
“You never did tell us what happened between the two of you,” Travis teases, his eyebrows wiggling lasciviously.
“I already told you I’m not saying a damn thing about what happened,” I grunt. “It’s none of your business.”
“But we’re family,” Travis wails dramatically.
“Leave the man alone,” Wyatt grunts from the other side of the room.
When I look over at our boss, he has bags under his eyes, but there’s a quiet calm about him I’ve never seen before. Once Wyatt speaks up for me, the attention shifts toward him.
Monroe shoots him a look of concern even though he’s leaning down over his client’s leg where he’s half-way through the tattoo he’s working on. Her voice is soft, “Are you doing okay, bossman?”
Wyatt grunts and then looks up, his face softening in the same dreamy way I’ve seen since Ian came into his life, and then even more in the last few months since the baby was born.
It’s also become clear that he’s exhausted pretty much all the time.
I’m not surprised, considering they have a newborn, but even exhaustion hasn’t been able to take away from the joy radiating from him.
“I’m good. Tired,” he sighs.
“Well, of course you are,” Knox scoffs. “Kessler is only a few months old. What did you expect? I don’t know a damn thing about babies, but I know the newborn stage is hard.”
“It’s not easy,” Wyatt agrees. Then something shifts in him, and he straightens up. “Even though I’m tired, I’m soaking up every moment. I missed out on all of this with Ian, but I refuse to miss anything with Kessler.”
“How many times have you been peed on?” Monroe asks, a huge, knowing smile on her face.
“Four times,” Wyatt grumbles even though he has a grin on his face like the last thing he cares about is being peed on by a tiny human. “But it’s been a while since the last time. I learned to be a lot faster about getting his diaper in place,” he admits with a chuckle.
“How’s Tenley doing?” Monroe asks, her eyebrows pulling together with concern.
“She’s doing great. It’s kind of amazing how she’s rocking this new mom thing. I swear she just knows what Kess needs; it’s a little freaky,” there’s a note of awe in his voice.
He sits back, a dopey look on his face and it makes my heart squeeze in my chest for some reason. It’s an odd feeling and I raise my hand and rub my chest like it’ll help relieve the ache; it doesn’t. When he shakes his head like he can’t believe his own life, I find myself smiling slightly.
“Sometimes I catch myself staring at Kessler in the baby monitor when he’s sleeping. It’s like I can’t look away either. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m afraid something will happen to him or I’m just in a constant state of awe. Maybe both?” He looks perplexed at his own question.
“It’s definitely both,” the man Wyatt is tattooing rumbles.
“I’d love to tell you that it gets better, but it doesn’t.
” There’s a chuckle in his voice and he flashes a grin at Wyatt who lets out a groan like he wishes the guy’s words aren’t true.
“And the feeling only grows with every kid you have.”
“Fuck,” Wyatt hisses.
Everyone erupts in laughter around Wyatt. I don’t join in, but my lips do lift into a smirk.
“I don’t see myself having kids,” Monroe muses and we all freeze.
It’s probably horrible of us because of course all women don’t want kids. Procreating isn’t the only purpose a woman has in this life.
“What?” Monroe asks, her eyes wide at the way everyone is frozen. “I just can’t imagine trying to tattoo with a giant baby belly in my way. Talk about back pain,” she snickers.
We all chuckle and Wyatt murmurs, “You might change your mind when you meet the guy who is made for you.” When he looks up at Monroe, her eyebrow is arched in challenge. “I mean,” he backpedals, “you don’t have to have kids. It’s not like I thought I’d have kids myself and look at me now.”
“Thankfully I won’t have any bundles dropped on my porch,” Monroe sasses, “considering I’m the one with the uterus and all.”
Wyatt’s client asks him, “Are you going to keep growing your family?”
I swear our boss goes pale at the question. “Wh-what?” He sputters and shakes his head. “More kids?”
There’s no way for me to contain my chuckle at his obvious discomfort. “Yeah, I mean, you’re surviving the newborn stage, and your wife is young.”
“But I’m not,” Wyatt snaps.
Travis howls out a laugh and doubles over. When I look over at him, his face is bright red. He pretends to wipe tears away from his cheeks as he gets himself under control. “I swear I just saw your soul leave your body, bossman.”
“At least Tenley wasn’t some crazy hormonal mess throughout her pregnancy,” Knox points out.
It’s clear he’s trying to be helpful, but it doesn’t land. The glares Monroe and Wyatt send his way are loaded.
“She grew a whole person. In her body,” Monroe points out fiercely.
Knox holds his hands up in surrender. “I know and that’s fucking amazing. But I thought the whole pregnancy thing was a hormonal horror story; she was her amazing self the entire time. Sure, she was more tired, but other than that?” He shrugs as if that explains everything.
“She even had that cute pregnant lady waddle thing.” Travis chuckles, “It took a lot for me to not compare her to a penguin, but Troy warned me not to say it when Tenley found out she was pregnant.”
“He learned that lesson with Amelia,” Knox throws out there.
I remember Troy telling us about how Amelia, who is married to Beckett Banks, burst into tears when she was pregnant and he alluded to her walk making her look like a penguin.
She only stopped when Troy promised to get her ice cream.
I have a feeling it was just a ploy for ice cream, but I’m not going to say it and I can’t really blame her for it.
Who doesn’t like ice cream?
“The women of Banks Ink. really embraced Tenley during her pregnancy.” Wyatt mutters, “They helped me more than they know. I should probably send a fruit basket.”
Knox snorts, “You should send them a cannabis bouquet. They’d probably like it more than a fruit basket.”
“A cannabis bouquet?” Travis has a thoughtful look on his face. “They make those?”
“Oh man,” Knox groans, “you miss out on the coolest things sometimes.”
“Maybe it’s because I don’t spend hours doom scrolling on social media and have an actual life,” he lobs back, his voice full of amusement.
Knox flips Travis off who grins from ear to ear.
Everyone chuckles at their ridiculous interaction, even Carson.
My eyes slide over to where she’s sketching on her tablet.
After she came back from her brother’s wedding, she seemed lighter for a little while, like she just needed a bit of home to stabilize, but I’ve noticed that she’s been getting quieter again.
“I have a feeling there’s going to be a whole baby boom in my hometown,” Carson pipes up, her eyes fixed on her tablet.
“I just heard about how my youngest brother has fallen in love. I swear there’s something in the water there.
And ranch people love popping out babies,” there’s a wistful quality in her voice which has me wondering if she wants to be one of those ranch people popping out babies.
“I know you’re missing your nephew, Macklin,” Wyatt’s voice is gentle as he speaks to Carson.
When she got back from Montana, she showed us a lot of pictures of her sister-in-law’s son who has been accepted into the fold of her family fully and without hesitation. The whole thing warmed my heart.
That’s not what happened to me when I was growing up.
The men my mom brought into my life were never there long, and they sure as hell never treated me like I was their son without a single care about biology.
I have no doubt things would have been so much better for me I had some stability in my fucking life, and it didn’t feel like there was a revolving door on my mom’s bedroom.
Macklin’s a lucky little boy. I shouldn’t feel jealous of a kid, but part of me is. I’m also so fucking happy for him, and I haven’t even met the kid. Every child should feel love instead of wondering if it’s their fault every time someone leaves.
Now, as an adult I know it wasn’t my fault.
It just wasn’t going to work out between my mom and whoever she was with at the time.
But when someone swoops in and plays dad for a short time, only to disappear or be replaced, it feels like emotional whiplash, and I internalized that shit for most of my life.
I’m not sure I’m over it even now.
It’s one of the reasons why I’m not interested in being a father myself. I never had one. How could I even begin to be what a kid needs?
“You missing home, Carson?” Monroe’s question is soft.
Carson looks up and meets her eyes before shrugging one shoulder like she’s trying to be casual. “Yeah. Eden’s pregnant and I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before Noel and Huxley knock up their women. Then there’s Mack.” She sighs, “It’s a lot to miss.”
Her words are heavy in the room, and I share a look with Wyatt. I have a feeling Carson won’t be sticking around much longer. She’s going to answer the call to go home, even if she’s trying to deny how she can hear it echoing off the mountains and hitting her square in the chest.
The bell rings on the front door. Normally, I don’t even hear it, but this time it feels like a gong with the way it reverberates through my body even though it doesn’t make any sense.