8. Eight
Eight
Bane
I sit in my home office, staring blankly at the computer screen. The new hire we brought on at the shop has been a godsend, allowing me to work from home, but I can’t focus with Avery in the house.
Every time I hear her voice, I’m reminded of the other night and her quick denial that our kiss was a mistake. It tears at my soul. Nothing that feels like that should be a mistake.
The house suffocates me. Betraying the memory of my wife clouds my thoughts. Making a move on my best friend’s woman haunts me.
How has Avery’s presence upended my carefully structured world?
I grab my keys and head to the office, desperate for distance. As I drive, I can’t shake the fear that Avery will become a problem between Diego and me. I’ll have to choose. I have to keep what’s best for Evie in mind .
This shouldn’t feel like a fucking sacrifice. Avery’s my nanny. That’s my only claim to her. I need to kill the boner and be a fucking adult about it.
At the shop, I bury myself in the details of our international expansion. Probably not the best paperwork to look over when my focus is so scattered.
A knock on my door breaks my feeble concentration.
“Mr. Bane? A customer wants to know if we can special-order a cigar.”
“Which one?” I don’t bother to look up.
“The Sweet Alice. It looks like we used to carry it.”
My heart stops. My fingers tighten on the contract, crumpling the edge. It’s my late wife’s favorite.
“No.” The word flies out of my mouth.
“Are you sure? It pulls up with one of our vendors.” He’s oblivious to my emotional turmoil.
I’m paralyzed by grief and longing. All I have left are my thoughts. And they go to Avery. To new life, new possibilities. And to betrayal of a different sort.
The question is which betrayal is stronger? Is it worse to consider opening my heart to another woman after my soulmate died? Or is it worse to raise Evie without even trying to bring a mother figure into her life?
I roughly gather the papers and shove them into a desk drawer. Grabbing my keys, I bark out, “Order it. ”
He asks if I’m okay. I’m not. Maybe I answer him, maybe I don’t. I slam my office door shut, lock it, and head straight to my bike.
The open road is my only solace. Rolling the throttle, I sort my next steps. I’ll talk to Avery and apologize correctly, promise that it will never happen again. Same for Diego.
When I walk through the front door, the house is quiet. I find Avery on the floor of Evie’s bedroom, playing with both of our kids. She turns, startled by my presence, and I’m struck by how beautiful she is, how perfectly she fits the motherly role, and how my heart lets her right back in.
I glance at the family photo, my wife beaming with joy as she holds our precious bundle.
“You’re home early,” Avery whispers. “Everything okay?”
She’s caught my gaze.
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. She must see something in my eyes because her expression softens. She moves her baby to the playpen, hands Evie a toy, then guides me to the living room.
“If you’re worried about the other night. It won’t happen again.” Her voice overflows with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to disrespect—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” The dam breaks. She’s so easy to talk to. I find myself telling her about the cigar, about my amazing wife, about the gaping hole her death left in my life.
“I don’t mean to pry, but what happened to her?” Avery asks softly.
I hesitate, then decide to trust her with the truth. “She was killed by a rival motorcycle club.”
Avery’s sharp intake of breath makes me look up. Her face has gone pale, her eyes wide. People are always surprised by this, but there’s something different in her eyes. Or I’ve just majorly overstepped and she fears for her own life.
She converts her momentary shock to a guarded reaction. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
I consider what she might be thinking. “You’re safe. It’s in the past.”
“Of course.”
There’s more she’s not saying, I can feel it. But before I can press, she continues, “Sometimes bad things happen. Like why I’m a single mom. My ex isn’t a good person. My biggest mistake ever.”
I study her face. Pain hides behind her eyes. I decide to lighten the mood. “Isn’t it ironic how some mistakes pan out? You ended up with Bella and motherhood looks good on you.”
A weak smile crosses her lips, hinting that I’ve hit a nerve. She steps away. “You’re right. She’s the one good thing that came out of that relationship.”
She stops near a framed photo of her roller derby team. Something about one of her teammates nags at me, a half-formed memory I can’t quite grasp. I shake it off, not wanting to ruin this moment of connection.
I step behind her, drawn by some invisible force. Probably just not wanting to come across as a dismissive asshole since I know nothing about Bella’s father. Resting my hands on her shoulders, I say, “We just have to do our best to move forward, protect our children, and raise them to be good people.”
Avery turns, our hands linking between us. She laughs softly. “What if it’s not that easy?”
“It’s not easy, but it’s all we can do.”
How have I ended up this close to her again? Physically and emotionally.
The front door opens and closes. Diego calls out, “Where’s my sexy mama?”
I jerk back, guilt and confusion warring in my chest, my head… my cock. Avery looks equally flustered, smoothing her hair as we back away from each other.
“I should… check on the kids,” she mumbles, fleeing.
Diego just laughs and goes to the kitchen. I think he likes me being tortured by Avery’s presence. His relationships are too shallow and fleeting for him to understand the levels of connection I have with her.
And yet, I’m not even sure I understand the connections.
Resuming my mission to set the relationships straight, I corner Diego in the kitchen. “We need to talk about Avery.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Agreed. I think we could make this three-way thing work.”
“What the fuck? It’s not what it looked like.”
“Which time? Just then or when I walked in on the two of you kissing?”
“Either time. I told her about Evie’s mom, and that she was murdered. She opened up about her ex a little. We shared trauma moments. That’s all.”
Diego nods slowly, then grins. “Just admit it. You want to hook up with your nanny.”
“She’s great with Evie. I don’t want to mess things up.”
“Or are you afraid to fall in love again?”
“It’s not love. It’s caring and compassion. Something you could learn if you ever want a relationship to last more than one night.”
“Ouch, bro,” he jokes.
“Someday you’ll wish you weren’t so afraid to be open with a woman.”
“Open with a woman. That’s good coming from a guy who hasn’t dated—”
“Fuck off.” I retreat to my bedroom. Besides, Avery’s too young. It would never work. Unless I consider all of the other guys in our MC who are hooking up with younger women, taking care of them, finding true happiness.
I spend the rest of the day alone debating whether I should test this thing between Avery and me… and Diego. I’d told her I would be at the shop all day so she already planned on taking care of the kids.
Fuck! I should be out there with her. With them.
How can my heart be so loyal to my wife and yet drawn to Avery? Is it anything more than a desire to protect a young mother? A desire to do what I couldn’t do for my wife?
Finally working up the courage to talk to Avery, I follow the faint sound of her voice to her bedroom. Passing the nursery, I stop in to kiss my finger and tap it on each of our sleeping girls.
As I get closer to Avery’s room, I figure out she’s on the phone, her voice hushed and tense. “I’m doing what I have to.”
I pause out of sight. It’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I have to think of Evie, about the people I let into our family.
“Let it go unless you’re prepared to be all in.”
Who the fuck is she so pissed at?
“Right. We both know you want me to do the hard work.”
Diego’s voice catches me off guard. “I’m gonna run to the store. Need anything?”
“I’m fine,” Avery answers loudly, then more quietly ends the call and moves toward the door.
Shit. She rounds the doorway. The shock in her expression makes it clear. She hopes I didn’t hear anything.
“Bane?” Diego waits for me to respond.
“I’m good.”
Avery’s quick to say, “The girls are down. I was just going to bed.”
I have so many questions, but she backs into her room, closes the door, and flips the lock.
“I have the baby monitor on,” she adds through the door, clearly shutting down any conversation.