Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
LoneStar
As we ride home, I find myself thinking about which plot of land would be best for building my dream cabin.
I’ve had my eye on a prefab one built by the Amish—something that can be slapped together in days instead of taking weeks to construct.
As for the location, I want us close enough to the clubhouse in case shit hits the fan, but far enough away to have some privacy while we build our family without my nosy-ass brothers all up in our business.
It’s probably a crapshoot, though, because they can’t help themselves. The only thing that saves them from a beating is the fact that we wear the same patch on our backs.
My brothers, who’ve already found their old ladies, are fiercely protective of those relationships, as they should be.
They may spout some bullshit about their significant others when they’re ranting, but if anyone else says a damn thing negative about their women, they’re fucked.
My brothers will hand them their asses without a second thought.
As we pull off the freeway, we slow down and scan our surroundings.
You never know when an enemy might catch you off guard.
With Britton’s abductor still on the loose, I’m more alert than ever.
After we got her settled in the car outside the hospital, she told Riptide and me there was something she needed to say.
But she was too exhausted to get the words out, so we convinced her to wait until she’d had a few hours of sleep and could think more clearly.
She didn’t seem happy about it, but she has to come first. Especially now that she’s carrying precious cargo.
I still can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.
It’s something I’ve always wanted and longed for, but never thought I’d find the right woman to make that dream come true.
Funny enough, that word, dream, has been circling through my mind a lot lately, and it’s all because of a feisty woman who opened my eyes and filled a void I didn’t realize was there needing to be replenished.
Fuck, I sound like a sap, even to my own ears, but it’s the downright truth. She reminded me to believe and to cherish every moment, because tomorrow isn’t promised, and that’s a scary thought because everyone in my life is important to me.
Not every gift comes wrapped in shiny paper with a huge bow on top.
Sometimes the best ones are the ones that sneak up on you, and you don’t understand their true value until they’re gone and you no longer have them there in front of you to admire.
And that’s what Britton and our unborn child are—a gift to be cherished.
I will never take either one of them for granted because they deserve more than that from me.
As we pull through the gates guarding our compound, a flash of movement across the way catches my attention.
But it vanishes as quickly as it appears, and I chalk it up to my overactive imagination.
When you’re expecting something to crawl out of the woodwork, nine times out of ten, you’ll see it whether it’s really there or not.
I shake off the thought, knowing it won’t get me anywhere, then dismount and head for the passenger side of Britton’s car.
After opening the door, I crouch until we’re eye level and ask, “Do you want to stay with me or Jersey?”
She chews on her bottom lip, her eyes full of conflict. “Can’t I have both?” she inquires, her voice no higher than a whisper.
“I don’t have a concrete answer for you on that, we’ll have to talk to Jersey about it. Her home is just that, hers, and I refuse to make myself welcome at her place without getting her permission first.”
“Can we do that now before I make a decision?” she continues, looking uncertain and I can understand where she’s coming from after everything she’s endured. “I need both of you.”
“More than anything, I wish I could barge in and take over, giving Jersey no choice, but I wouldn’t be the man I am if I ran roughshod over her, Britton. I have too much respect for people, especially women, to take their choices away from them. Can you understand and appreciate that, darlin’?”
“I do. I promise, I do. But I don’t want to go to her place without you and vice versa. When I get settled, I don’t want to have to relocate so I’m gonna stay right here until you talk to her.”
She’s adamant, and I know when she gets something stuck in her mind, there’s no talking her out of it so I nod and shut her door before looking at Splicer who reads the look on my face and nods in response.
It’s a damn good thing we’ve learned to silently communicate with each other since this is going to be a long talk because I’m sure Jersey’s going to be emotional. She’s been a damn mess since we figured out Britton was in trouble.
The moment my knuckles rap against her door, she swings it open. Her eyes are rimmed red, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks. “Is she okay?”
“That depends on how you look at it,” I answer. I don’t want to lie to her, but I’m not sure sugarcoating it would help either. Jersey wears everyone else’s emotions on her sleeve, and while that kind of empathy can be a strength, it can also be a burden.
“What does she need, and what can I do to help?” Jersey asks, giving me those puppy-dog eyes that can make any man melt and do just about anything to keep her from crying.
I’m a sucker for women and have a hard time telling them no when they look up at me like that. I swear it must be something they master during their formative years, because every woman I know has it down to an art form.
“Here’s the problem, Jersey. She’s having a hard time deciding where to stay,” I tell her, buying myself a moment to gather my thoughts so she doesn’t feel pressured to say yes if she really wants to say no.
“She insists that both of us stay with her. It doesn’t have to be here, we can all stay at the clubhouse if you prefer, but she refuses to get out of the car until we make a decision. ”
She snickers and shakes her head. “She’s so damn hardheaded sometimes. She’s trying to kill two birds with one throw of a pebble.”
I roll her words around in my head, smiling as I echo them back to her, only this time, using the correct saying. “Kill two birds with one stone?”
I know what she meant, but she’s twisted the saying just enough to give me an opening, and I take it. I tease her, hoping to keep her talking, because most days, she’s quiet as a mouse and keeps to herself.
“I’m not good with phrasings. I always end up mixing them up and turning them into my own version,” she explains. “Britton has to correct me all the time. But yes, that’s what I meant.”
“Can you explain that a little more, Jersey? Why would she do that?”
“Because I’m socially awkward around other adults,” she explains. “It’s easier for me to be around kids than grown-ups. I understand them better because they say what they mean and don’t tiptoe around people’s feelings.”
“And tiptoeing around people’s feelings is a bad thing?” I ask, lifting my brows. It’s human nature to try not to hurt someone when you can avoid it—at least it is if you’re a decent person.
“It can be. I have a hard time reading people when they don’t say what they mean and cover it up with platitudes. I never know if they’re making fun of me or being genuine. Britton is trying to force me to interact with people our age while surrounding me with people she trusts.”
“So you think she wants you to open up and start trusting the people she trusts? Is that what you mean, Jersey?”
“In a nutshell, yes,” she replies.
“You’d have to actually be there for that to happen,” I say, giving her a reproving look. “You never join in on the club’s activities, even when you’re invited.”
“Because people confuse me, and Britton’s the one who keeps me grounded when I start to feel overwhelmed. Plus, she explains things in a way I can understand.”
My inner turmoil stems from the fact that she’s the one we’ve entrusted to help shape and mold our young children’s minds. How can someone who admits to being socially awkward teach our kids to face the things they don’t want to or aren’t comfortable doing?
“Jersey, you need to make a life for yourself outside of your friendship with Britton. You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s what I’ve been told,” she mumbles. “We were working on it before she took off.”
This is the most I’ve ever spoken with her, and I wish I hadn’t waited so long. She’s desperate to find a place where she belongs—a place where she can be accepted for who she is, with no strings attached.
“The clubhouse it is,” I decide. “Pack your things, Jersey. You’re moving in temporarily.”
“Wait!” she hollers, throwing up both hands trying to stop me. “I didn’t agree to that. I’d be more comfortable if the two of you stayed here in her room.”
Leaning forward just enough to avoid intimidating her, I say, “And that’s the problem, isn’t it, Jersey.” I make sure it doesn’t sound like a question, because it isn’t, it’s an accusation. “You don’t put yourself out there unless it’s in an environment where you can hide, right?”
“Are you patronizing me?” she asks, planting her fists on her hips.
“No, I’m giving you a few hard truths. They may sound cold, but that’s not my intention.
You need to be pushed out of the box you’ve locked yourself inside of, Jersey.
It’s time to start letting some of those walls down.
I’ll send a prospect over in the morning to help you move your things. Expect him around eight.”
“I can’t. I have class,” she firmly says.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday, Jersey. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.
” I turn and walk away, not giving her a chance to come up with another argument.
I hear her huffing behind me, but I don’t look back.
She needs some tough love, and if Britton isn’t enough of a hardass to drag her out of her shell, I will be.
When I get back, Britton’s door is cracked open, and her legs are hanging out. “Well?”
“We’re all staying at the clubhouse,” I tell her.
“How did you manage to convince her to go along with that, LoneStar?”
“Easy. I took the choice out of her hands. And from now on, I want you to call me Tanner.”
“Tanner?” she echoes, looking confused.
“Yeah. Tanner. The name my mother gave me.”
“Oh. Okay, Tanner it is. I like it. It’s manly. Makes me think of a cowboy,” she says with a smirk.
“That’s because in my heart, I am,” I laugh.
“Giddy up,” she drawls, holding her arms out for me. “Give me a ride, cowboy.”
“All night long, baby. Once you’re up for it and have been released by the doctor, I’ll give you the ride of your life.”
“Bronco bull style, Tanner?”
“Damn right,” I answer.
She blushes and fans her face which has me grinning from ear to ear.
My dick takes notice but I push that to the back of my mind and ignore him because even though he’s begging for some attention, it doesn’t mean he’ll get any.
For now, she’s off limits but when she’s been given the green light, there’ll be a rodeo happening in our bedroom.
I will lasso her and tie her to me for eternity.