31. Sara
SARA
Dust from thirty bikes still hung in the air when the last engine faded south.
The parking lot had emptied in under a minute, every patched member chasing Fox and the chain dragging Tony down the road.
Now it was just me and Garret standing in the parking lot as I cried.
I took a step back when his arms didn't come around me, feeling like I'd crossed a line by making physical contact.
He was staring at the road. His fists were at his sides and his shoulders were rigid and I had no idea what was about to come out of his mouth.
The way we left things when he showed up at the hospital didn't leave me much hope that anything would change no matter what truth came out or how sincere my apologies were.
"That was really brave, Sara." The venom I'd heard in his tone the last time we spoke was gone, but he still sounded upset. "What you did took guts."
Tears continued to fall, and I wiped them with both hands and tried to hold myself together. "I wanted to tell you so many times. Every single time we were together I wanted to say it, but Tony had me so scared I couldn't breathe. He told me he would kill me, Garret."
He listened to me but I watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and his hands never unclenched.
"I know things between us are probably done," I said, voice cracking. "I know I hurt you and I know you may never forgive me for keeping Kip from you. But I need you to understand I never wanted that. Tony backed me into a corner and I made the only choice I thought would keep my son alive."
His eyes shifted when I said Kip's name. Something softened behind the tension.
"Kip?" he said.
"Yeah." My hand was already reaching for my phone. "Kip Peter Ducette."
My screen lit up and I turned it toward him. I had taken a picture of us the day we drew with sidewalk chalk on Mom and Dad's front porch. Kip had chalk dust on his hands and his hair sticking up and that crooked grin that split his face.
Garret looked at the picture and his shoulders dropped.
His jaw unclenched and his eyes went glassy.
A single tear rolled down his cheek and he didn't wipe it away.
He stood there staring at the screen and I watched the toughest man I'd ever known be reduced to tears.
I didn't want him to feel hurt, but I could see he was choosing vulnerability instead of anger.
"He's so sweet, Garret," I whispered. "He's stubborn and loud and he laughs at everything. He's got your eyes and your jaw and this serious face he makes when he's concentrating that looks exactly like you when you're working on an engine."
Garret's hand came up and covered his mouth and his chest hitched.
"He loves being outside. He'd live in the yard if I let him, chasing bugs and kicking his ball and getting filthy. And he's smart, Garret. He already knows shapes and colors and the whole alphabet."
His body was getting more rigid with every word, emotion building behind the tough guy facade he wanted me to see, but tears rolled down his cheeks.
I assumed they were anger, and I knew I had it coming.
I deserved everything he was going to say.
He would blow up and let me have it, and I wouldn’t interrupt him.
"Say something," I whispered. "Please."
His mouth opened but nothing came out, so I looked down at his feet and waited for him to explode.
But when his hands cupped my cheeks and forced my head up, his lips covered mine and took my breath away.
It was so demanding I couldn't pull away if I wanted to, and I didn't want to.
My tears came harder then, mingling with his as he started walking me backward.
Garret's mouth never left mine and his arms never loosened as my feet shuffled to keep up. He guided me across the gravel, past the diner patio, up the steps, and through the front door of the diner. And once inside his hand reached behind him and flipped the lock.
His hands dropped from my face to my hips and lifted me onto the counter beside the register where my back hit the menu board on the wall and knocked it sideways, and his mouth never broke from mine.
When his hands slid up under my shirt, his thumbs brushed the underside of my bra and I arched into him.
"Garret," I breathed between kisses. I felt desperate to know what he was thinking and why this was happening. I couldn’t take it if he just wanted some physical release to use me and then pushed me away again.
"Don't talk." His mouth slid along my jaw, then my neck, teeth dragging across the skin below my ear. "Let me have you, okay?"
His hands pushed my shirt up and his mouth followed, kissing down my collarbone and across the swell of my chest above my bra.
He pulled the cup aside and his lips closed around my nipple, sucking until I whimpered.
Then my fingers laced through his hair and held him there while his tongue circled and flicked and his beard scratched against my sensitive skin.
"Please… I…" I whispered, but I didn't know what else to say. Whether this was makeup sex or one last moment of connection before we were done for good, I didn't want to waste the experience feeling turmoil.
He switched sides and gave the other breast the same attention while his hand dropped between my legs and rubbed the outside of my jeans. The heel of his palm pressed against my center and the pressure through the denim made me grind forward against his hand.
"These need to come off," he said, popping the button on my jeans with one hand. His fingers pulled the zipper down and slid inside my underwear and found me already wet. Two fingers dragged through the heat and circled my clit, and my head fell back against the menu board.
Garret tugged my jeans and underwear down my legs and off one foot, leaving them hanging from my other ankle. Then his hands spread my knees apart and he looked at me for a long second before dropping to a crouch.
"What are you?—"
His mouth covered me before I finished the question.
His tongue dragged through my folds and my hands thrust down onto the counter to keep myself from falling off.
He gripped my thighs and pulled me closer to the edge, burying his face between my legs while his tongue slid over me and wound a tight circle around my clit.
"Oh, my God." My hand went to his hair and gripped. "Don't stop doing that."
He groaned against me as his tongue pushed inside me then came back to my clit, alternating between the two until my legs were shaking and my breathing was coming in short, desperate gasps. When he growled it rumbled through me making me arch against him harder.
"I need you inside me," I said, tugging his hair. "Garret, please."
He stood slowly and his belt clinked as he opened it. Before he even had his dick out my hand was there, reaching for him. I stroked him as he groaned and pumped into my palm.
When his lips met mine again, I tugged him closer, guiding him toward my entrance. He grabbed my hips as he pushed in, filling me deliciously, and dousing some of the heated ache I felt. Then he slid back and pumped in again.
"You feel incredible," he said against my neck.
"You know I need you, right?" I whimpered.
When he slid back gently I pulled with my heels on the backs of his thighs to encourage him to push in deeper, and his thrusts built to frenzy.
"I need you too, Sara. More than I ever knew." Garret's hands roamed my body eagerly while his lips met mine again. It was more than I could ask for to hear him say that to me, bringing tears to my eyes I couldn't shut down.
"I love you, Garret," I moaned as I felt my body tensing. I was so close. If he kept doing what he was doing, I would snap.
His hand found my clit and rubbed, and it pushed me over the edge, writing and reeling as orgasm spilled through every muscle in my body.
It wasn't the most powerful climax I'd ever had, but it was the most connected I'd ever felt.
When he spilled inside me, and warmth flooded me, I slid my arms up around his shoulders and pulled him in, burying my head in his neck.
He pulled out when I had calmed, and let his sex drain from my body. Then he took one of the towels from under the bar to wipe me clean before tucking himself away.
He tossed the towel into the bin behind the bar and leaned against the counter beside me while I pulled my jeans back up. Neither of us spoke for a minute, but when he looked up at me there was no trace of anger in his eyes.
"You're my entire world, Sara," He said softly. "You know that, right?"
I didn't know what to say back to him. I felt so much shame and guilt over what I'd done. There was no way he should love me still.
"You know… If Fox had given up on Mandy for all her runnin' around, what sort of love story would that have been?
" He moved toward me, brushing some tears off my face.
"And if he can look past all of that and love her still, then surely I can move past what happened between us.
I know how scared you were. I watched you shaking every time Lightning came around. "
"Garret—"
"No listen." He pressed his thumb to my lips and blinked a few times as he waited for me to stop trying to resist him. "Our boy needs a family, and I refuse to run out on him over selfish pride, Sara. I love you, and I forgive you."
Relief felt like an earthquake in my chest as tears erupted again. I leaned in and buried my face in his chest as his arms wrapped around me and held me close.
"I can't believe you're forgiving me," I whispered.
"There's nothing to forgive, baby… Just tell me when I can meet my son.
I've lost enough time." His lips pressed against my head and I sobbed, clinging to him.
This was really happening. Tony was gone and Garret stayed.
And the only thing standing between me and what I had dreamed of for years was whether my family accepted him.