Chapter 16
Willow
A few weeks can do wonders for settling into a life.
Even if things hurtle past me at such crazy speeds that I feel sometimes that I’m outside my body looking in, they’re all good changes.
This is the opposite of the last time when everything fell apart and just kept falling.
This time, I have people in my corner. They care, and they’re not going to let anything bad happen to me.
It’s hard to let go of some of the control I’d like to have over my life, but admitting that I need help wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.
Tarynn grew up in Hart, and so did many of the guys and their women from the club. It wasn’t long before Odin asked me if I still wanted to work, and if I did, would I consider working part time at one of the vet clinics in town.
I could have kissed him out of sheer relief, gratitude, and joy.
The job has been incredible. The two vets I work with—a husband and wife team who moved here over a decade ago—are the nicest people ever.
All the vet techs really care about what they do.
The place is a little bit like the club in the way that everyone is family.
They’re all so kind. It’s exactly what I needed, even though I would have stuck it out if it was horrible and the people were catty.
It’s so good to be making a little bit of extra money, to be out of the house for eight hours Monday to Thursday, and to get to know people.
More than all of that though, I’m doing what I love, at least in part.
The job was mine. I never had to interview for it.
Macy and Dave just wanted to take me for coffee before they officially gave me the position.
They promised me that the knowledge I had already would be invaluable and very much appreciated, for as long as I can be there before I take maternity leave.
I’ve worked six shifts now, and I do feel like I’m valued, not just by them, but by Sam, Jess, and Whitney, who work reception and as vet techs, as well.
I’m less than two months pregnant, but I can feel my body changing in small ways. I still look the same, but my breasts are tender, and I’m tired. Still not sick, though. I’m hoping that doesn’t hit me, but if it does, I’ll get through it.
Odin has stopped by every day after he’s done at the garage. He goes in on weekends too, even though they’re technically not open. The garage is more for the club anyway, and a lot of guys put in hours there, working on their own projects when the customer vehicles aren’t in the way.
He texted me around eleven this morning to ask if it would be alright if he stopped by to continue our lessons, and brought dinner.
He’s always so eager and happy when he gets here that there’s no room for me to doubt that he’s doing this because he feels he has to look after me, and not because he wants to be doing it.
I call them lessons. He calls it showing me how to do the things that I never had anyone to show me how to do.
Changing the oil on my car was the first thing he showed me, followed by how to replace a tire.
The next day, he showed me how to change the furnace filter in the apartment, because I noticed that when it got colder at night and I had to turn it on, it didn’t just have a musty smell.
It stank. I didn’t want to bother Crow with that, so I asked Odin if he could look at it.
He’s also showed me how to tie several different knots, how to jumpstart a car with a dead battery, how to use a fire extinguisher, how to grill a steak, and how to plant bulbs.
The last few days he’s been taking me to the clubhouse in the truck he borrowed from Raiden.
It’s old and I like it a lot, but I’m not ready to learn how to drive that beast. Odin promised me he’ll teach me how to drive a standard, but it’s not going to be something so temperamental for my first time.
He also wants to teach me how to ride a bike, but that’s not going to happen right now.
He borrowed one of Tyrant’s spare bikes, but even though it has an extra seat, we both decided it was best that I don’t ride it right now.
I know he’s careful and that what happened was an accident, but neither of us would ever take risks when I’m pregnant.
Today, he’s bringing the lesson to me.
The past few days were gloomy and rainy, so today I’ve spent as much time outside as I could, enjoying the sunshine.
One of the most incredible things about being here for fall is seeing all the leaves change colors.
They were vibrant when I got here, but I never knew just how spectacular those colors were going to get as September came to an end, and the cooler nights painted the leaves scarlet and gold come those crisp mornings.
The apartment has a set of stairs inside, but I only ever use the metal set that extends from the back of the building.
I’m sitting at the top of them, on the little balcony jutting from the back of the building, when I pick up the low growl of a bike in the distance.
My heart beats fast, even though I know that there are quite a few bikes in town, and given that Crow owns this place and belongs to the club, it could be any of Satan’s Angels.
It’s not.
I know it’s Odin as soon as the roar turns the corner and heads down the alley. The other buildings block my view, but I’m sure that the bike is back here and not out on the front street.
My stomach flip flops, my breath catches, and parts of me start buzzing that I really wish would just behave.
Along with being tired, I must have entered the stage of wild hormones doing all things hormonal.
I’m not making excuses, but this week especially, it’s as though I’m paying the horny tax for all those years I didn’t think about sex in any shape or form.
I get up and walk down the first few stairs, but stop dead as soon as I see Odin.
He’s bent over the bike. It’s an older one, with a straight frame that he has to curl over.
I don’t know anything about years or types of bikes, but this is nothing like his bike, gorgeous, all chrome and leather bike where the handlebars were at a comfortable angle and he could recline back on it.
This one looks uncomfortable, but it’s as beautiful as the man riding it.
Okay, half as beautiful.
Odin rights himself as soon as his boots are planted on the asphalt alley.
He stretches out to full height, his shoulders filling out his new leather jacket.
It’s so fresh looking, without a single scrape or scuff.
The black leather is still soft and supple looking, and stretches over his massive frame perfectly.
He unzips it after he kicks the bike into standing, showing off that barrel chest in one of his old, worn in garage t-shirts.
The cotton is also probably soft as butter, and warm from his body.
His jeans are old, but that just means that they fit him like they were tailored to his body, especially in the back. They cup his hard ass effortlessly.
I can imagine getting on a bike behind him, having to hang on tight as he rides.
I’d be pressed so tight to his stupidly muscled body that all his heat would soak into me.
I know exactly how he’d smell, that perfect blend of herbs, spices, the open sky, and garage scents.
I’d be able to lock my hands in front of his chiseled abs and let the rumble of that bike roll through me as I rushed through the world with him.
My heart arrests and a steady, undeniable pulsing starts up between my legs.
I stumble forward to the metal railing and clutch it tightly, even though I have to angle one shoulder down to get both hands on it.
I wish I could stop thinking about what Odin looked like out of clothes.
I’ve tried desperately to remind myself that this is platonic only.
When we get married, it will be a contract marriage.
I might have said I needed more time, but that time will come to an end, and I’ll legally be this man’s wife.
I should be more terrified at the prospect. There should be at least some small part of me that rebels at the idea. When people talk about baby brain, is this what they mean? Where they can’t process a normal line of rational and reasonable thoughts?
Odin undoes the black saddlebag and pulls out a plastic package. He waves it in the air, grinning widely. His eyes crease at the corners, his patch scrunching up on the one side with the sheer joy of bringing me… mousetraps.
Another thing that I didn’t want to bug Crow for.
It’s a great distraction from my whole body begging me to get in my car and follow Odin to some private place where he can do things to me on that bike that are perfectly safe physically, but not so much for my heart and brain.
Not that my body would like them to have a say. My nipples are so hard they practically pierce through the loose cream sweater I have on over a long black dress. It’s stretchy and form fitting, but the sweater hides pretty much all the curves it might show off.
I make my way down the stairs carefully, rushing over to Odin, but stopping just short of throwing my arms around him.
That’s too familiar.
He’s not mine to hug or to hold.
I wish the ache in my chest didn’t start up every single time I see him pull up in front of my house.
It doesn’t matter if it’s in that old truck or on that bike.
He could come riding a little kid’s pedal car and ask me to get on the back of it with him, and I’d somehow find a way.
My heart would be galloping the entire time, no doubt.
“Hey.” I try for casual, but even I can tell how gravelly my voice is. My face gets hot, so I angle it to the side, staring up at the top of the building. “I know I asked for mousetraps, but doesn’t it seem a little bit harsh to have to do this to them?”
“That fucker terrified you last night. For hours.”