Chapter 5
At six o’clock on Saturday evening, I pulled up to the address Winnie texted earlier. There was a truck parked on the curb and a sedan on one side of the driveway. Considering my load, and the fact that I wouldn’t be staying long, I opted to pull in next to the sedan.
I’d made an aluminum pan full of beef enchiladas, and they were still warm to the touch when I retrieved them from the passenger seat.
I looped the grocery sack I packed with additional food stuff around my wrists and then moved to step out of my vehicle.
After I carefully closed the driver’s side door with my foot, I journeyed toward the front porch and then hesitated.
I wasn’t sure if I should ring the bell or knock.
I didn’t have much experience with newborns.
As soon as I made up my mind and decided knocking would probably be best, my phone began to ring from the front pocket of my long-sleeved, plaid button-up.
I readjusted my grip on the tin of enchiladas and pulled out the device only to find I went through the effort for nothing.
It was Georgia calling, and I had no intention of answering.
I silenced it, then turned on the do-not-disturb setting and dropped it back into my pocket.
It wasn’t until after I rang the bell, the alert resounding from the other side of the door, that I remembered I was planning on knocking.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
It was Jenna who opened the door. Her honey-brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was more dressed down than I’d ever seen her—in a pair of leggings and a tee-shirt that was most definitely one of Maverick’s.
She looked exhausted at first glance; but when she smiled at the sight of me, I believed it.
“I didn’t mean to ring the bell. I’m sorry if that was the wrong thing to do.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed, smoothing a hand over the back of the baby in her arms. I knew right away this one wasn’t hers.
She was far too big. Lydia-Jane, with her wispy blonde hair, twisted her little neck in order to peek back at me as Jenna continued, “There are currently no sleeping babies in this house.”
“Glad I didn’t disturb anyone.” Nodding down to the food in my hands, I said, “Brought dinner.”
“Bless you,” she breathed, stepping aside to make room for me. “Please, come in. The kitchen is off to the left.”
I glanced around what I could see of the Daughtry residence as I followed her directions.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to find the house was remarkably homey —not with Jenna living there.
Nevertheless, after years of working behind the bar with Maverick propped up against it, it was strange to think he lived in a place like this.
So suburban, so clean, and already littered with baby paraphernalia.
Strange as it was, I found it just as reassuring.
Not all men were monsters—and he was proof.
“You can set it down anywhere. Thank you for doing this,” said Jenna as she trailed after me into the kitchen.
I put the pan on the stove, unloading the tortilla chips and salsa onto the island as I told her, “It’s enchiladas. I didn’t make any dessert. I’m not huge on sweets, so I’m not much of a baker.”
“Kade loves enchiladas. It’s perfect. Seriously, thank you.”
“Yeah. Happy to help.”
She was smiling again when she asked, “You want to meet Lane? Tess is currently hogging him, but I’m sure I could pry him away for you.”
My instincts told me I had to say yes, even if every part of me was screaming no. It would be rude otherwise. How the hell did you tell a new mom you didn’t want to meet her kid?
“Sure, yeah,” I muttered, feigning excitement.
“Come on,” she insisted without hesitation, turning to lead me into another room.
Tess was curled up on the couch, the newborn tucked into the crook of her arm, her gaze glued to the little guy. Mary-Kate was sitting next to her, leaning close, equally as enraptured.
“I swear, I can hardly remember LJ being this small, and it was barely six months ago,” she murmured.
It was hard to tell whether she was talking to us, to him, to Mary-Kate, or to no one.
Mary-Kate replied on behalf of us all as she whispered, “Mommy—I mean, Tess—I don’t think she was ever this tiny.”
Tess hummed a quiet laugh and looked at her step-daughter lovingly. “Sweetie, remember what your daddy and I talked about? You can call me mommy if you want to. You don’t have to correct yourself.”
Mary-Kate blushed, nodded, and snuggled a little closer before she semi-repeated, “Mommy, I don’t think sissy was this small.”
“You’re right. She was a couple pounds heavier.”
Looking at Lane, I couldn’t even begin to guess how big he was—smaller than I might have imagined. Far too fragile for the likes of me to get anywhere near him. Not to mention, the maternal energy in the room was too much—too suffocating.
“You know what? I actually have to go,” I began to say, slowly backing my way toward the door.
It was in that moment when Tess looked over and noticed me for the first time. “Oh, hey. Did you want to hold him before you go?”
“Uh, no. I’m?—”
“Whoa. Shit, sorry,” muttered Maverick as he and I collided.
He was in the middle of pulling a shirt on, his hair obviously still wet from a shower.
“It’s fine. I was just leaving.”
“When did you get here? Did I fall sleep in the shower or somethin’?” he asked, looking as dazed and confused as he sounded.
“Phoenix was dropping off dinner. Enchiladas,” replied Jenna.
“No shit? Thanks, Phoenix.” He immediately turned, headed toward the kitchen as he called over his shoulder, “You should stay. Eat with us.”
“I can’t, sorry. I hope you enjoy the food. Let me know if I can help in any other way. And congratulations, really,” I said, glancing between Maverick and Jenna. “I’ll show myself out.”
I barely registered the look of confusion on their faces as I hurried to the door.
Whatever they were thinking didn’t stop me.
More than their judgement, I feared what would happen if I held their baby in my arms. I was self-aware enough to know my limits, and I didn’t have nearly enough safeguards erected in my mind to protect me from that part of my history.
I stepped outside, shut the door behind me, and pulled in a deep breath.
Twelve years old .
I shook away the thought.
The past was the past.
I couldn’t undo it.
I couldn’t rewrite it.
All I could do was remind myself I was better. Stronger. Freer.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the rumble of an approaching motorcycle. Given whose house I just exited, I assumed his destination was the same as mine. I made it to my driver’s side door when the Harley and the Stallion who rode it pulled in directly behind me—blocking me in.
Twister smirked at me as he killed his Hydra-Glide’s engine, and I folded my arms across my chest while he lowered his hog’s kickstand.
I hadn’t seen him since our last run-in.
If he came to the bar Friday night, we were too slammed for me to notice, and he hadn’t been leaning against my Bronco when I finally left at nearly three A.M.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said in greeting.
“Yeah, well, I was just leavin’.”
He stood and kicked his leg over the bike, completely disregarding what I said.
“Seriously, do you mind?” I asked, my tone dripping in annoyance.
“I won’t be long. Just doin’ a drive by.”
It wasn’t until I watched him unstrap the box he had attached to the back of his bike that I realized he was making a diaper delivery.
“What do you know about buying diapers? ” I muttered, unable to silence my curiosity.
“More than you give me credit for, I imagine. Got two sisters—five nieces and nephews between ‘em. Maverick’s already sent about fifty damn pictures of the kid. These might be a little big, but they won’t go unused. He’s a tiny bugger now, but he’s got my brother’s genes—he’ll grow.”
His answer was enough to shut me up.
Propping the box against the side of his hip, he jerked his chin at me and asked, “You give anymore thought to our date?”
I sighed as I rolled my eyes and dropped my arms to my sides. “Don’t start. Could you just deliver the diapers and move your hog so I can get out of here?”
“You got someplace to be?”
“Yeah—not camped out in Maverick and Jenna’s driveway.”
“Go out with me.”
“Twister—”
“Tonight. Right now. You hungry?”
I huffed out a breath as I shifted my gaze away from him and down the street. I couldn’t believe I was considering it, but I was pretty sure about two things.
First—this Stallion was not going to let up.
If I didn’t say yes now, he’d bug the hell out of me until I did.
But that wasn’t the reason which made me even the slightest bit amenable.
If I didn’t say yes now, if I got behind the wheel and started driving, I suspected I wouldn’t stop until I ran out of gas—running from the thoughts I felt trying to haunt me even in that very moment.
I hesitated a little longer as I looked at the man in front of me.
One date wouldn’t mean a damn thing, but I was pretty confident it would earn me another ride. I would be a liar if I said that didn’t appeal to me. A ride was also guaranteed to rid my mind of demons. For a while, anyway.
Besides, I was hungry.
“Fine,” I agreed. “But I’m not changing.”
I had on less makeup than I usually did, seeing as I wasn’t behind the bar that night. The button-up I wore was tied closed at my waist, and the cut-off shorts I had on were high enough to cover my belly-button, but short enough that the lining to my pockets peeked out beneath the frayed hem.
I wasn’t sure what Twister’s idea of a date was, but this was as good as it was going to get.
He grinned.
Much as I hated to admit it, he looked good doing it.
“Baby, I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
I ignored what sounded like a compliment and asked, “Where we goin’?”
“How ‘bout Humphrey’s?”
Humphrey’s was a local bar and grill. It wasn’t anything special, and that was fine by me.
“Okay.”