Chapter 17
Chains POV?
Four weeks had passed since Skylar’s art display, six months since Cleo and the kids arrived in Creek Wood, and ten months since Wade died.
A lot had changed in six months, but some things stayed the same. Tommy still loved bikes, Skylar always had a sketchbook nearby, Roman was still a pain in the ass, and I was still trying not to stare at Cleo.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t doing a very good job.
I stood outside the clubhouse and watched Tommy pedal his bike across the yard, probably going faster than was safe for anyone.
“Look, Chains!”
I barely had time to get ready before he shot off a ramp he’d built from scrap wood. The front wheel wobbled, the bike landed on its side, but Tommy somehow stayed up. I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or worried.
“You trying to give your mom a heart attack?”
Tommy grinned. “Did you see that?”
“Unfortunately.”
His grin widened.
That kid was trouble, but the kind you had to like. I heard a familiar laugh across the yard and looked up before I could stop myself.
Cleo stood near one of the picnic tables, talking to Stella. Her hair was pulled back, wearing jeans, and T-shirt. She wasn’t dressed up, but I still couldn’t look away.
Six months.
I’d spent six months watching her build a life here, seeing her become part of this Graves family, club family, and trying to convince myself that just being friends was enough.
The problem was, it wasn’t, not anymore.
“You’re staring.”
I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Rage dropped into the chair beside me.
“I wasn’t.”
“Bullshit.”
I sighed.
Rage laughed. “Just ask her.”
I looked at him. “It isn’t that simple.”
His expression softened.
“Yeah.”
He understood better than anyone. He’d seen what she’d gone through. We all had.
“She’s happy,” I said quietly.
Rage followed my gaze. “She is.”
“I don’t want to screw that up.” For once, he didn’t joke, laugh, or try to push me.
“Then don’t.” He shrugged. “Take her to dinner.”
“Dinner.” I stared at him. “You make it sound easy.”
His grin returned. “That’s because it is.”
----
Later that afternoon, Tommy climbed onto the bench beside me, close enough to bump my arm. “You coming to our house?”
I looked down. “What?”
“Our house.” He shrugged. “You always see us at the clubhouse.”
That actually made sense. I squinted at him, but Tommy kept talking.
“Mom makes really good lasagna.”
I barked out a laugh. “Does she now?”
“Yep.” He nodded seriously. “The best.”
I had absolutely no doubt he believed that. “Maybe one day.”
Tommy seemed happy with that answer for about three seconds before he spotted Lola and ran off. I shook my head. Kids were exhausting.
“You’re waiting too long.”
I looked up. Stella stood beside me, holding two mugs of coffee. She handed one over. I accepted it automatically.
“Rage sent you?”
She smiled. “No.”
That probably meant yes. I took a sip while Stella leaned against the railing.
“She’s doing better.”
I knew that. Everyone did. The change between the woman who arrived six months ago and the one now laughing with Mia was incredible.
“She deserves to be happy.”
“She does.” Stella smiled softly. “So do you.”
I looked away. The problem wasn’t wanting more, the real problem was that I wanted this more than anything in a long time, and that felt risky. If Cleo said no, I’d still see her, Tommy, and Skylar every day. I’d still be part of their lives, and somehow, that scared me more than being rejected.
“Chains.”
I looked back at Stella, her expression was gentle. Knowing.
“Stop standing still.” Then she walked away. Leaving me with absolutely no excuse.
I found Cleo sitting alone on the clubhouse porch an hour later.
The sun was setting, and the yard was quieter than usual. For a moment, I just watched her. The breeze lifted her hair, she looked peaceful and happy. I’d grown protective of that sight.
“You hiding?”
Her smile appeared immediately. “No.”
“Liar.”
She laughed. The sound settled somewhere deep inside my chest. “Maybe a little.”
I sat next to her. We were quiet for a minute, it was a comfortable silence, something we’d gotten used to. Finally, I glanced at her.
“Still friends?”
Her eyes widened slightly. Then amusement appeared. “That depends.”
I felt myself smile. “On what?”
She turned toward me. “Whether you’re asking as a friend.”
There it was, my chance to back out and leave things as they were. I didn’t want to, but I still hesitated. Saying it out loud would make it real, and I wanted to know what would happen if I stopped pretending this was enough.
“No.”
Her breath caught slightly. “No?”
I shook my head. “No.”
For a second, neither of us spoke. Then I finally said what I’d been thinking for weeks.
“I’d like to take you to dinner.”
Silence followed, not bad silence, thinking silence. Cleo looked toward the yard, and I gave her all the time she needed. Then she looked back at me and smiled. “Dinner sounds nice.”
Something in my chest relaxed, and I let myself feel it for a moment. It had been a long time since anything felt this easy.
“Dinner it is.”
For the first time, it felt like maybe we were finally moving forward.
----
Cleo POV
The second Chains disappeared down the clubhouse steps, my heart started doing ridiculous things.
Dinner.
I stared after him for several seconds before realizing Mom was standing in the doorway, watching me and smiling, of course. “Oh no.”
Her smile widened. “Oh yes.”
I groaned. “Please don’t.”
She laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The woman was impossible.
----
The rest of the week went by faster than I expected. Suddenly, it was Saturday night, and I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror, trying to remember how people got ready for dates. Not that this was a date, except it totally was, and that thought made my stomach flip.
I stared at my closet and rolled my eyes. I wasn’t seventeen, and I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I was going to dinner with a man who’d already seen me covered in flour, tired after work, and chasing Tommy through the clubhouse.
Eventually, I settled on dark jeans, brown boots, and a soft green top. Simple and comfortable, just me.
I curled my hair loosely and added a little mascara and lip gloss. Nothing dramatic, just enough to show I’d made an effort.
When I stepped back from the mirror, I actually liked what I saw, not because I looked different, but because I looked like myself.
A knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Come in.”
Mom stepped inside for a second she simply looked at me, then her eyes softened. “You look beautiful.”
Emotion caught me off guard. “Thanks, Mom.”
The word still felt strange sometimes. Not wrong, never wrong, just precious. Like something I’d wanted my whole life without realizing it.
Her smile warmed. “He’d be blind not to notice.”
I immediately covered my face. “Mom.”
She laughed. “What? It’s true.”
Downstairs, Tommy and Skylar were waiting with Dad. Tommy looked me over, then grinned. “You look pretty.”
My heart melted instantly. “Thank you, baby.”
Skylar smiled too. “You do.”
I walked over and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”
Dad looked up from where Tommy had been showing him toy motorbikes. His eyes softened immediately. “Proud of you, kid.”
I knew he wasn’t talking about my clothes or the dinner. He meant everything: the healing, moving forward, and living. I squeezed his shoulder, and for a second, I could feel how far I’d come.
“Thanks, Dad.”
The knock came a few moments later, and suddenly my stomach was full of butterflies. I headed for the door.
----
Chains POV
The drive over felt longer than it should have. I told myself I wasn’t nervous, but checking my reflection in the truck mirror twice proved otherwise. By the time I pulled into Cleo’s driveway, I was laughing at myself, and sat there for a moment and laughing.
Forty-three years old, Vice President of an MC, and somehow, dinner with one woman had me acting like a teenager. I got out and headed for the front door.
The moment it opened, every thought in my head disappeared. Cleo stood there looking exactly like herself and somehow more beautiful than I’d ever seen her.
Dark jeans, boots, and a soft green top. Her hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and she had natural makeup. Nothing over the top. Nothing forced.
Just Cleo.
My chest tightened because she looked comfortable, not like she was pretending to be someone else. She was just herself, and somehow that meant even more.
“You look nice.” The words came out rougher than I’d intended. A blush touched her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
For a second, we simply stood there, looking at each other. Then Tommy’s voice broke the moment.
“Mom’s been nervous.” Tommy grinned.
I tried not to smile. Skylar looked just as amused, Graves was laughing out loud, and Stella looked way too pleased with herself. Some things never change.
“You ready?” I asked.
Cleo nodded. “Yeah.”
She turned toward the kids. “I won’t be late.”
Tommy waved her off immediately. “Bye.”
Apparently, I ranked somewhere between a superhero and his favorite bike. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Skylar walked over and hugged her mom.
“Have fun.”
Those simple words made Cleo smile, then she looked at Graves and Stella. I saw trust on her face, real trust, and realized how big this was. It wasn’t just about dinner or us. She was leaving her kids and wasn’t worried because she knew they were safe. That hit me hard.
“Go,” Stella said gently. “We’ve got them.”
Cleo nodded and followed me outside. For the first time since she came to Creek Wood, she was doing something just for herself, and I felt honored to be the one she chose. It felt like the start of something real.