Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LAINEY
Gunnar’s lips touch the side of my throat one more time before he gently eases out of me. I watch as he reaches down, tugging his jeans back up his hips and zipping them before he reaches down again, this time picking up my pants.
He hands them to me, his focus no longer on me but rather shifting around the bakery’s kitchen. I think about not telling him what Dakota offered. But then I decide against it. He’ll find out soon enough. And he’d probably be pissed if it wasn’t from me.
But then again, I’m not sure why I would even care if he was pissed off at me.
In a month, I’ll be living a brand-new life, and he will forget I ever existed. Tugging my pants on, I jump off the counter and fasten the button before I tug my own zipper up.
“Dakota and Posey are going in on buying me out of the bakery,” I announce.
His spine straightens, and he turns his head, whipping it over to look at me. “They’re doing what?”
“Buying it from me, or rather from Axton, since he gave me all the start-up money for it and I’m still paying him back.”
He stares at me for a long moment in silence. As much as I want to demand he tell me something, anything, I’m not sure I want to hear it, so I just continue talking. And as I do, I realize that this plan is actually wonderful—for my friends, but also my brother and their club.
“Dakota knows everything about the bakery she needs to know to make the food and run the day-to-day operations. It’s better this way.”
“Better,” he mutters.
“Better.”
My confirmation is as much for me as it is for him.
It is better this way for everyone involved.
Thankfully, he doesn’t demand to talk about it any longer.
I really don’t want to, anyway. This is my dream come true—this bakery, this man—and I have to walk away from it all and accept the fact that it’s not meant for me. It never was.
Walking out of the kitchen and into the main part of the bakery, I look around one last time. I won’t be coming back here. I’m going to walk away for good and allow Dakota and the rest of the girls to quietly take over.
I won’t be having a last day, I won’t be saying goodbye to any of my customers, I won’t be doing any of that. Dakota can open up tomorrow as far as I’m concerned. I won’t ever step foot in here again.
It needs to be a clean break.
If I continue to come back over the next month, what’s going to happen is that I’m going to be filled with emotions. Lots of emotions, and some of those will be regret. And I don’t want that. Not at all. What I want is to feel as if I’ve done the right thing.
No regrets.
Maybe I should feel regret over what I’ve done. Over what I’ve agreed to. I’m leaving my entire life behind. Even if I put it in the contract that I can still come back, I know it means leaving my life behind. Nothing will be the same after I walk down that aisle.
Nothing.
“I’m ready to go home now, Gunnar,” I call out.
He grunts, and I hear him flip the light off in the kitchen. His boots echo through the place as he moves toward me. I keep my back to him. I know that if I look at him standing in this bakery, I’m going to lose it. I’m going to cry.
“Lainey,” he calls out. I don’t respond. I don’t even flinch. “Look at me,” he demands.
My shoulders fall slightly, and I turn around, tipping my head back to look up into his face, into his eyes.
He’s watching me, his brows snapped together, furrowed.
I’m not sure what’s going on, why he’s looking at me the way he is, but I also don’t think I’m ready to question it, mainly because I don’t want answers.
I’d rather live in a delusional state.
One month. That’s all I need. I need to survive for one more month. And then my new life will begin, and I will have to navigate that, however it looks, but I can’t fall deeper in love with Gunnar.
I can’t allow it.
I will not and cannot allow myself to hope. Not anymore. And loving him any deeper than I already do is a form of hope.
“What?” I ask, trying not to snap at him. I’m not sure I succeeded. In fact, I’m pretty sure he flinches at my tone.
“You’re upset,” he murmurs. “But don’t walk away from all you’ve built because you’re upset.”
Instead of screaming at him, telling him that I’ve given myself no choice but to walk away, I only shake my head once.
“I’m not upset, and I’m not walking away because of that. I’m walking away from this because it’s the best thing I can do in this situation.”
“The best thing,” he mutters. “That’s what you always do, right? The best thing.”
I almost laugh in his face because that’s rich coming from him—like a double chocolate cake with chocolate cream, chocolate ganache, and chocolate buttercream.
So damn rich.
Taking a step backward, I think about turning and running from him. I don’t, though, not because I stop myself but because he wraps his fingers around my wrist and stops me himself.
“Gunnar?” I ask.
It’s his turn to shake his head once. His gaze doesn’t leave mine, and then he clears his throat. He tugs his hand backward, forcing me to tumble toward him. Before I fall, he wraps his arm around my waist to settle me, but also pulls me a bit closer to him.
“You don’t always do the right thing, do you, baby?” he asks softly.
His words send a chill of desire up my spine, and I have to press my thighs together. It’s only been minutes since he was inside me, but I want him there again… now. Instead of verbalizing my answer, I bite the center of my bottom lip and scrape my teeth backward, releasing my skin.
“I try to do the best thing for my family,” I exhale.
Because even though what I’m doing, marrying Paul, is what’s best for the club, too, I’m really doing it for Axton and Millie. For all my girls. I’m doing it to keep the peace. I want everyone to be happy, and I want a chance at something more than just being a spectator in my own life.
My words annoy him. I know they do. I watch it consume his face. I annoy him. At least right now, I do. He wants something from me, but I’m not sure what. I can’t cancel the contract. There’s no need for that. Because even if he wanted to keep me, he won’t.
Gunnar has made it clear that this is for now, to scratch our itches and satisfy our curiosities.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
He knows how I feel about him, and I know that while he likes me, while he enjoys what we do, he’ll never be his father. And he perceives us being together as a betrayal of the club and of my brother. It’s a line he won’t cross any further than a few hookups until I leave.
Which, in some twisted thought process, must make sense to him. To me, it feels confusing. I’m trying to compartmentalize, but the lines are beginning to blur. Especially since I really want him to touch me right now.
VIKING
Gripping the handlebars of my bike, I wonder why the fuck I am doing this. I should drop her ass off at Piggy’s and just fucking ride. I could be a nomad for a while, or if I didn’t want to do that, maybe I could just do all of the runs for the club and stay away as much as possible.
When we pull up to the house, I park my bike before I pinch my eyes closed. Opening them, I clear my throat and turn my head to tell Lainey that she can get off, but she’s already walking toward the front door.
Obviously, she’s pissed at me for some reason. Well, maybe I know the reason. I’m not making this shit easy on her, but I only have a month to get her to see that she deserves more out of life.
I know she doesn’t deserve me; it would be cocky to assume she would.
Honest to fuck, nobody fucking deserves to have me at their side, not as a partner.
As a good fuck, as a protector, sure. I’m good at being at someone’s back, helping them in any way needed.
But at their side, being a partner? Wouldn’t know how to do it. Wouldn’t even know how to try.
She lets herself inside, and I follow behind her, locking her door as soon as I’m fully inside. Lainey isn’t anywhere nearby. I think about leaving her alone. She’s obviously pissed about something, but because I’m a glutton for punishment, I go in search of her.
She’s not hard to find.
Lainey is in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to me.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I cross my arms over my chest and watch her for a long moment.
I’m sure she can sense my presence. It’s not like I can sneak up on anyone, not with my weight and size.
Me trying to walk quietly sounds like a goddamn elephant parade on my best day.
“You wanna tell me what’s crawled up your ass?” I ask.
She snorts but otherwise doesn’t say anything or even turn around to look at me. That’s okay. I can stand here for a whole fucking month before I need to go anywhere. A few seconds go by, and I watch as her shoulders deflate and she lets out a whoosh of air.
Then she stands, turns around to face me, her eyes finding mine, and I see the sadness in her gaze. When she speaks, I know that I should have anticipated her high emotional state, but as I said, I’m not good at any of this kind of stuff.
“What’s crawled up my ass, as you put it, is the fact that this is real.
It’s not a thought anymore. My bakery, my life’s passion, is going to be handed off to someone else.
And while I’m happy they want it, that doesn’t mean I don’t mourn it.
I mourn my whole life here. As sad and pathetic as it was. ”
“Sad and pathetic?”
Her lips twitch into a smirk, and she shakes her head as if she can’t believe I’m speaking to her, or rather, maybe she can’t believe what I’ve said. But I’ve said it, and I’m waiting for her response.
“Don’t act like I was anything but that, Gunnar. That my existence wasn’t just plain sad. It’s the whole reason I said yes to this, to leaving my world behind and starting over with a perfect stranger.”
“Your bakery, your family, and being near them isn’t pathetic.”
“But my existence was. You don’t see it because you are living the dream. I wanted more, though. I wanted a shot at my own family, at children, at being a mother. That isn’t going to happen here.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I don’t try to deny her words, because she’s probably right. If she were waiting around for me to give her any of those things, she would have been waiting forever.
“I told you why I couldn’t do any of that,” I point out.
This conversation, this argument, it’s going to be just the two of us talking in circles. I know it as much as she does. It is absolutely pointless. I watch as she wraps her arms around herself, almost as if she’s attempting to give herself a comforting hug.
“Yes, you did. But being here with you, even if I had known about your father earlier, I know I would never have been able to move forward with someone else, because…”
“Because?” I ask when her words trail off.
Her eyes find mine, and she gives me everything she’s thinking in one simple look. But she doesn’t leave it there. She continues. I think it’s more of her needing to get it all off her chest.
Which I don’t blame her for. I fucked her up even though I tried to stay away. My attempts were all for naught because right now, she’s giving me all of her hurt, projecting it toward me, and it causes my own chest to ache.
“Because the more I see you, the more it hurts. I’m in love with you, Gunnar. I’ve been in love with you. It was killing me slowly to be near you and yet so far away. I was never going to find anyone else, not here in Thunder Rock.”
“I know,” I whisper.
And I do.
Even though I didn’t want to hear her say it, I needed to hear it. I knew. Selfishly, I didn’t take myself out of the equation a long time ago the way I should have. I didn’t want to walk away from her.
I wanted to be near her, hear her voice, and see her smile. I needed to be close by in case she needed me at her back, and there were a few times she did. And now I’ve tasted her, I’ve been inside her, and it’s making it even harder to let her go.