Chapter 16
Jasper
The wind helps, but it doesn’t fix my mood.
I’m still pissed at Silver. She can be a genuinely shitty person.
She knows how to find the soft spots in people and twist the knife.
There’s no telling what she said to Tessa.
I shouldn’t be wasting energy on Silver.
I should be thinking about Tessa. Thinking about how to take care of her.
Thinking about how to get her into my bed.
Right now, Tessa’s arms are around my waist, her chest pressed to my back. Her presence doesn’t weigh me down. It feels right. Close enough to breathe her in. Most nights, that would be enough.
What gets me is the trust. It’s quiet and steady, and it cuts deep. I’ve had women want me. I’ve had them flirt, follow, shape themselves into whatever they think I need. Tessa doesn’t do any of that. She’s just here doing what she things is right.
Now she’s tied to all of this. My family. My world. My name, and my blood, growing inside her.
My thoughts are a mess. We’re almost at her place, and I’m not ready for the ride to be over. Her hands tighten around me for a second, like she feels it too. I don’t want to let go. I want to keep riding. Her heartbeat’s steady through the layers between us. But I pull into her driveway anyway.
She leans forward, taps my side. “Thanks for letting me meet your parents.”
“It was my pleasure. I think they figured I’d lost it when I told them you were pregnant.”
She smiles. “I don’t blame them. Ours is a wild story. Our kids probably won’t believe it.”
She unclips her helmet and runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth it down. Her cheeks are pink from the wind.
Then what she said registers. My hands come up and rest against her stomach. “You said kids. Plural. Is that your plan? Keep going one after another?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “With IVF they sometimes implant more than one embryo, we could be having twins or triplets.”
Something’s wrong with me, because the thought of her carrying twins—or more—makes my body respond in ways it probably shouldn’t. I shove that image aside, along with any thought of Octomom or a house full of screaming babies. I’d need half a staff just to keep up.
I’m pulled back to the moment when her hand rests on my chest.
“Are you being serious right now?”
She presses her lips together to hide a laugh and shakes her head. “I was teasing, they just implanted the one embryo. You want to come in for coffee?” she asks, setting her helmet on the seat. “I want to make sure you’re not half asleep when you ride back.”
I should say no. Be smart. Responsible. Do the thing a guy does when the timing’s off.
Instead, I say, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
She unlocks the door and steps inside.
I follow her in, ducking my head slightly. I’ve been in a lot of houses—some spotless like museums, others crowded with booze and chaos. This place feels like it was made for someone who wanted quiet.
She moves through the space easily, heading into the kitchen and reaching for the coffee things. It’s all automatic. Like her hands know what to do even if her mind’s somewhere else.
I lean against the wall, my arms crossed. “You always keep the good stuff like pot pies sitting on deck for late-night guests?”
She glances over her shoulder with a smirk. “Only when they show up on Harleys to get them.”
I let out a low laugh, the tension from the ride bleeding out slowly. “Glad I made the cut.”
The coffee starts to drip. The scent rises, rich and fresh. Her place is quiet. There is no TV or music playing, just the two of us and our easy banter. It feels like we could fill it with love and babies if we half tried.
And this is the moment I realize I don’t want to just drink coffee here tonight.
I want to get closer to her more than I want my next breath.
To know how she thinks and what’s important to her.
The only way to find that shit out is to spend time with her.
Because I want everything with this woman.
I just have to find the right path to get us there from where we are now, which is strange and messed up but still real.
Only if she wants the same. It’s not enough to have her in my bed.
I want her to look at me with that open, steady kind of affection men don’t talk about but every one of us secretly craves.
We sit on the sofa like this is just a casual coffee break and not the edge of something bigger. For a while, we drink in silence. I know what’s coming. I feel it in the quiet between sips, in the way she stirs her coffee even though the cream is already mixed.
“You want to talk about Silver and why she’s convinced she’s got a chance with you?” she asks, her tone mild.
I wrap my hand around the mug, letting the warmth settle there. I keep my eyes on hers when I answer. “She’s not my ex, if that’s what you’re wondering. She always wanted to be.”
She watches me. Doesn’t speak. Waiting for more.
“I never flirted with her. Never touched her. Never invited anything. Even if I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world I wouldn’t touch her—not after what she did to my niece. She’s been hanging around the clubhouse for months, circling like a vulture.”
Tessa nods. “I knew she was trouble.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I told my ma not to let her in. Queenie’s got a soft spot for women who’ve been through hell. She believes in second chances. But Silver isn’t trying to heal. She’s not broken. She’s dangerous. She wants control without limits.”
“I know the type,” she says. “I’ll keep my distance.”
“I’m sorry she came at you. I should’ve seen that coming.”
Tessa lets out a sigh. “I guess if I’m going to be hanging around you and your family then I just need to toughen up.”
I turn to her. “I like your soft side. Don’t be too quick in getting those hard edges.”
She smiles, but her eyes stay sharp. “She can leave right? She’s not owned by the club or anything like that?”
I lift the mug again, pausing. “Of course not. She had a choice. My ma gave her a way out to get her act together. It’s chores, not chains she has here.
Anyone can leave anytime. No strings. But if they do leave, they don’t come back.
That’s the rule. And we don’t shove them out empty-handed.
They get a couple hundred bucks, a bus ticket, maybe some snacks for the ride. ”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“She loves being a club girl and I can’t see her leaving voluntarily. She’s pretty, smart, sassy and I’m told she knows how to keep a brother happy if they’re lucky enough to end up in her bed.”
Tessa smothers back a wry smile, “I’ll just bet she does. I can tell she doesn’t like it when you tell her no.”
“Silver’s stubborn that way. Don’t know what my ma sees in her. You ever deal with any stubborn bastards on your end?” I ask, curious to know about her past.
The color drains for her face and her fingers tighten slightly around her cup and I instantly regret my question. “Yeah. Unfortunately, I did.”
She doesn’t look at me when she starts talking.
“He came in fast, love bombing me before I knew exactly what that was. He was charming, gave me too much attention, and far too many gifts. The kind of guy who made you feel lucky to get him. I was young and thought this must be what love was. If only I knew then what I know now, I’d have never given him a second look.
It was sunlight and rainbows until he got bored.
Then it turned into control, jealousy, screaming, and even hitting. ”
Gesturing to her throat, she adds, “The day he put his hands around my throat, I knew if I didn’t get away from him he’d kill me.”
The second I hear that, my throat goes dry and whatever arousal I was feeling takes a gigantic nosedive.
She goes on, “It took me close to a month after the choking to make a clean getaway. I ran and never looked back.”
“Did he ever try to find you?”
She nods without looking at me. “He found me several times, and it took me three tries, but I finally got a restraining order.”
“Did he violate the restraining order?”
“I didn’t give him a chance. I left and changed my number right after the order got approved.
I figured, why tempt fate? Moved across the country, back to Cedar Falls.
I feel like a bit of a stereotype, being the young, idealistic woman who moved away with a man who turned out to be an abuser, learned the hard way how hard it is to start over, and came running back to my small town to make a clean break. ”
I shake my head. “I think it happens a lot for a reason. We all come back to familiar ground when we’re in crisis.”
I grip my coffee cup tighter. “So, do you ever think he might come back?”
She meets my gaze now. Her voice is steady, but her eyes are troubled in a way no one deserves. “No,” she says. “But I’m not naive enough to say never.”
“You haven’t seen any trace of him around Cedar Falls, right?”
She frowns. “I thought I saw him once at an intersection when I first arrived, about seven months ago. To be honest, I think it was just paranoia. If he was here, he’d have made himself known.”
I want to find that guy. Just for five minutes. Not to threaten him, or shout, but to give him the tune-up the fucker deserves for putting his hands on her. He’s the kind of man who deserves to experience fear and pain firsthand.
It’s hard not to look at her differently now.
It’s not that she ended up in an abusive relationship.
That happens to lots of women. I find myself admiring her for how tenacious she was about clawing her way free from it all.
She came out on the other end strong, resilient, and learned more about herself than most people ever have to.
“I’m sorry that happened,” I say. “No one should be manipulated and hurt when they’re still trying to figure out what love even looks like. Just know that Silver’s the same type. If she starts anything, you have my authority to shut it down. And if it doesn’t stop, come to me.”