LONDYN #2
If I’d learned anything over the past few years, it was to be prepared—for anything.
Sometimes, I took the notion a little overboard, but always felt it was better to be safe than sorry.
With that in mind, I grabbed my day bag and started filling it with snacks, Band-Aids, and various other necessities.
Clearly amused by all the stuff I was shoving into the bag, Malcomb snickered, “We’re just going for a couple of hours.”
“Just covering all our bases,” I shrugged. "You never know. We might get hungry or get a scraped knee.”
“You get many scraped knees at the park?”
“I don’t.” I motioned my head over to Dalton. “But I know someone who does.”
“Got it.”
Dalton bounced up and down, eager to get going. "Let's go!" he exclaimed, tugging on Malcomb's sleeve.
“Alright, alright.” Malcomb chuckled. "Let's go."
It was a perfect day for the park. The sun was shining bright, birds were chirping, and there was a hint a cool breeze whipping about.
Dalton skipped ahead while Malcomb and I walked side by side.
The sun was bright and warm as we settled onto a bench.
Dalton’s laughter echoed through the air as he darted off to the playground.
Malcomb and I found a nearby bench to sit on, watching as Dalton climbed and played.
As we sat there, I couldn't help but notice the way Malcomb was looking at me. “What?”
“You’re amazing.” He shook his head. “You’re a natural with all this stuff. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Dalton made it easy.”
“He’s an awesome kid, but it’s more than that.” There was a sadness in his eyes as he said, “I know you had to make a lot of sacrifices along the way, and not just the scholarship. I know it had to be tough.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“I know, and it’s appreciated more than you know.”
Silence fell over us as we turned our attention back to Dalton.
He was playing in the sand with a couple of other kids.
They had sand buckets and shovels, but he looked perfectly content to build with his hands and a plastic cup he’d gotten out of my bag.
Malcomb and I had been watching him for several minutes when I turned to him and said, “So, I have a question for ya.”
“Oh, yeah?” His brows furrowed. “What’s that?”
“Were you at Puckett’s last weekend?”
He looked down and sighed, and without him saying a word, I had my answer. “Yeah, I was there.”
“Did you see me?”
“I did.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“Didn’t figure it was a good time.” He glanced up at me as he admitted, “But I did stick around awhile to make sure you were okay.”
“I thought I saw you there.” I shrugged. “I’d had a little too much to drink and wasn’t sure if I’d really seen you or if I was just...”
“Oh, you definitely saw me.” He cocked his brow. “I was your ride home.”
“What?”
“You got up to go to the bathroom, and it was obvious you were wasted. I stood by the door to make sure no one fucked with you, and when you didn’t come out, I went in after you.”
“You did?” I thought for a moment, trying to recollect what happened that night and how I’d gotten home. But I couldn’t piece it all together. “I don’t remember.”
“Because you were passed out.” His eyes grew fierce as he explained, “I picked you up and carried you home. I used the spare key to get into the house, and then, I took you up to your room.”
“Oh, God. That’s it. I’m never drinking again.” I knew I’d had too much to drink, but the fact that I couldn’t remember being with Malcomb was concerning. “But thank you for making sure I got home.”
“No need to thank me. I was just...”
“Looking out for me, and I really appreciate it.” The words had barely left my mouth when I was hit with a thought that had me wondering if I’d been too quick with my gratitude. “So, you were there for a bit, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Did you happen to see me talking to Danny?”
“I saw you talking to a lot of people.”
“I wasn’t asking about all of them… just Danny.”
“Yeah, I saw you talking to him.”
“And?”
I glared at him for a moment, and when he didn’t respond, I asked, “Did you say something to him?”
“Not sure what you mean.”
“Did you say something to him?” I repeated.
“I might’ve told him to walk away, or I’d stuff his balls down his throat.”
“You didn’t!”
“He was trying to get in your pants.”
“He was being nice.” He gave me one of his looks. “I knew something happened to turn him so cold. I just had no clue it was you.”
“He was trying to take what was mine.”
“Yours, huh?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
“Well, if that’s how you feel...” I shifted in my seat so I was facing him as I asked, “How do you see things working out with Dalton and me? Or do you even want to try?”
“Of course, I want to try. Hell, I’ve wanted it all along.” His brows furrowed. “The how and when will depend on you.”
Dread washed over me as I asked, “How so?”
He kept his voice calm and steady as he explained, “I know you have your life here. I don’t know what that all entails, but I want to be a part of it. I want to be with you both as much as possible.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good, ‘cause I mean it when I say I want to be with you as much as I can. And I want Dalton to spend some time with my folks, if that’s okay.”
“It would be more than okay.”
“And down the road, I’d like him to come to the clubhouse and meet the brothers.”
“Oh, he’d definitely love that.” I giggled as I told him, “He thinks you biker guys are the coolest.”
“There have been a lot of changes since you’ve been around. Dad stepped down as president, and Guardrail gave up VP. Hell, even Stitch decided to step down.”
“I can’t believe that. I thought Cotton would be president forever.”
“We all did, at least to some extent, but I think the brothers did well when they voted in their replacements.”
“Oh? And who was that?”
“Maverick is president, and I’m the new VP.”
“Wow, Malcomb. That’s amazing. I know you must be proud.”
I knew being voted into a role like that was a huge deal in the MC.
It brought a level of honor and prestige, but it also a great responsibility—one that would be difficult to do effectively when trying to balance obligations at home and at the club.
It would be an adjustment for Malcomb, but he was bullheaded enough to make it happen.
“I am...”
His thought was cut short when Dalton suddenly came over to us and announced, “I wanna swing.”
“You got it, kiddo.”
With that, Malcomb stood and followed Dalton over to the swings.
He helped him up into the seat and started pushing.
As Dalton got higher and higher, he looked like he was on cloud nine as he giggled and squealed.
Sadly, the thrill didn’t last long, and Dalton grew tired of swinging. “I need a snack.”
“Let’s see what your mom has in that bag of hers.”
Dalton nodded, then raced over to me and asked, “You got any gol-fish?”
“Sure do.”
I reached in and grabbed two packs, then handed one to Dalton and the other to Malcomb. They both scarfed them down, then asked for more. As soon as they had their fill, they headed over to the pond to feed the leftovers to the ducks.
We spent a little more time walking around before heading back to my apartment. We watched a little TV, and Malcomb made us pancakes and eggs for dinner. Once we were done eating, I cleaned up the kitchen, and Malcomb helped Dalton get ready for bed.
It was wonderful.
But later that night, when Malcomb and I were finally alone, and he kissed me like I’d never been kissed before, things took an interesting turn...