Chapter 9
Miles
I slam the door shut on my truck and glance over at Greg, still trying to piece it all together.
“She has a daughter?” I say, voice tight with surprise.
Not because there’s anything wrong with it, but damn. After everything she told me last night about her partner…and now this. She’s raising a little girl on her own.
Greg doesn’t say shit. Just keeps staring out the passenger window like he didn’t hear me.
I shake my head, running a hand through my hair.
“So, you didn’t think to mention that she had a husband? Or that she’s a single mom?”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t turn to me. Just mutters, voice low and clipped, “It’s none of your business.”
That gets my attention. I look at him full-on now, and when his eyes finally cut to mine, they’re sharp and loaded with warning.
“You’re my brother, Miles,” he says, his voice steady but cold. “But don’t fuck around with her either. She’s been through hell and back, and she doesn’t need anything else to add to the wreckage.”
I blink hard. That one hits me in the chest.
“I wouldn’t do that to her,” I say quietly—and I mean it.
Greg doesn’t flinch. “Is that before or after you found out what she’s been through?” he fires back. “Because I bet the first time you saw her, all you saw was a tight body and pretty eyes. Just another addition to your list and she deserves better than that.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, swallowing down the sting. Yeah, I noticed she was hot as hell. I’m not blind. But after last night? After hearing the tremble in her voice when she talked about Trevor…watching her hold back tears, trying so damn hard to stay strong?
Everything shifted.
“I’m sorry I said it that way, Miles,” Greg says after a long beat, voice softer now.
I nod, staring out the windshield as I let his words settle in my chest. I admire it, how fiercely he looks out for her. That kind of loyalty doesn’t come easy, and now that I’ve seen a piece of her world…I get it.
They’re close. Closer than I thought.
“It’s fine,” I say, my voice steady.
He studies me for a second, longer than I’d like but eventually he nods.
I break the tension with a smirk. “Heard Mindy’s here with them.”
Greg’s lip curls, the kind of smile he tries to hide but can’t quite keep down. He glances out the window like it’ll distract from the flush creeping up his neck.
His facial expression hardens and he looks out the window, his eyes squinting.
That catches me off guard.
“Did last night not go well?” I ask.
Greg scoffs and drops his head back against the headrest.
Oh shit, she got him good.
I lean back in my seat, shooting Greg a crooked grin.
“What happened, man?”
“It was…” He cringes at himself. “She was different, I don’t know…” He shakes his head like it’s painful to hear himself speak of someone like this.
I bark out a laugh.
He flicks me off without looking.
“Okay, what exactly has you all twisted up in her?” I ask.
His gaze cuts to me, then away just as fast.
“I don’t know…we, like, talked. Like, really talked. About stuff I haven’t said out loud in years. Feelings I haven’t felt since—”
I nod, knowing he’s talking about his ex-girlfriend who left him because she wanted more and he didn’t. But that kind of catches me off guard.
Still, I can’t help myself. I let out a low whistle. “So, it wasn’t just a one-night thing?”
He shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders like the truth is too itchy to wear.
I study him, the way his fingers fidget, the way his jaw keeps flexing. He’s doing everything he can to play it cool, but the guy’s rattled. In a way that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with something he doesn’t want to admit out loud yet.
“Shit,” I mutter, smirking. “Greg wants another night with the same girl?”
Greg rips his cap off and runs a hand through his hair, then slaps it back on with a muttered “Fuck, she’s in my head. Can’t shake her.”
I nod slowly. “So…what are you gonna do about it?”
He snorts. “Haven’t decided yet.”
I clear my throat, flicking a glance toward the house. “Did you guys talk about seeing each other again? Or…”
Greg shakes his head, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the dash. “Nah. Wasn’t like that. She was gone before I even woke up.”
“Sorry, man,” I say, clapping a hand to his shoulder.
He shrugs, but it’s got none of his usual swagger. “It’s fine. That’s kind of how these things go, right? One night. No strings.”
But I hear the catch in his voice. The almost.
I give him a sideways glance. “Who says she won’t want to see you again?”
That earns me a flicker of a smile, barely there, but real.
“We’ll see,” he murmurs, but there’s that scratch in his voice again. Rough around the edges. “I know I want to.”
I nod and lean back, letting the moment settle.
Then I hear it—high-pitched laughter drifting in from the backyard. Riley.
I also hear Vivian’s laugh. She has that low, throaty kind, the kind that sneaks up on you and makes you want to laugh along. It’s soft but unfiltered. Like she doesn’t laugh often, but when she does, it’s real.
Even from here, with a truck door between us and a whole backyard in the way, it hits me right in the chest. I can’t see her, but the sound’s clear enough to paint the whole damn picture.
I wish I had moments like that with my mom, ones that felt safe. Light. The kind you carry with you even when everything else fades.
But I don’t.
Not really. Just glimpses.
A flash of her smiling in the kitchen. Her humming along to some old country song. Fingers brushing through my hair.
The rest is a blur.
The kind your brain protects you from when it’s too much to hold.
Greg taps my shoulder. “Hey. You zoned out. You all right?”
I blink, dragging myself back to the moment. “Yeah. All good.” I shift in my seat, clearing my throat. “You working tonight? Might swing by for a drink or two.”
He nods. “Yeah, I’m on with Vivian. Happy hour Saturday, so it’ll be packed.”
I grab the wheel and knock the gear into first as we pull onto the main road.
“Cool.” I keep my eyes forward, biting back the stupid smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
Greg leans back in his seat, glancing out the window. “Cam’s looking rough these days. Doesn’t even have time to shave or get a haircut.”
“I know,” I mutter, shaking my head. “He’s always firing babysitters. Ends up dropping Ashley off at his mom’s place half the time before work.”
We’ve been friends with Cam since high school—same classes, same parties, same detentions. Not much has changed, except now he’s got a baby glued to his hip and the bags under his eyes to prove it.
Greg lets out a quiet laugh. “You know how he is. Worries too much.”
“He’s an overprotective dad,” I say. “Also stubborn as hell and broody as shit. Classic Cam.”
Greg chuckles under his breath. “Grumpy single dad energy at its finest.”
My phone goes off, and I ask Greg to read it for me as I drive.
“It’s from Mya,” he says.
Mya: Hey, I’m in town. I’ll be seeing you tonight. Meet me outside Rusty Spurs at 10 p.m. Want to see Greg too! Don’t be late.
“Mya’s visiting?” Greg asks. “Haven’t seen her around in a while.”
I nod, dragging a hand down my jaw. “Yeah, It’s been a couple of months. Now that the competition is starting, well, she’s got to make sure I stay out of trouble.”
Greg raises a brow. He knows exactly the kind of mess I used to get into. Hell, everyone around here does.
There was a time I was the guy sponsors kept at arm’s length. Too many parties. Too many busted lips from fights with other riders. Too many blurry nights and blurry women I couldn’t name the next morning. I may’ve been good at what I do, but I was bad for image. Real bad.
So, I don’t blame this town for how they think of me…I did that to myself.
Mya came in like a storm with a clipboard, a ruthless smile, and a no-bullshit attitude. Cleaned up my act fast. And somehow, she’s stuck around. I have a lot of respect for her for what she’s done for me the past couple of years.
“Reply back to her,” I say as I focus on the road. “Say, ‘okay, looking forward to seeing you later.’”
Greg nods as he starts typing, his thumb moving over the screen.
“She still the same sharp-tongued, no-nonsense blondie?” Greg chuckles, leaning back in his seat.
I can’t help but grin. “Of course, she is. Especially with the competition coming up. She gets even more intense, if you didn’t think that was possible.”
She’s always been the one scolding us for drinking too much, reminding me I have a reputation to maintain, even if we were too drunk to care at the time. It was one of those things that made her so…Mya. Always looking out for us, even if she acted like she was irritated by it.
The three of us ran in the same circles for a while.
I’m parked outside Greg’s place, engine still running as I lean back in the seat.
He doesn’t live far from me, closer to town but still in the countryside, in a quiet little ranch house painted in a faded green that’s seen a few summers too many.
When he’s not at the bar he’s here raising livestock such as cattle and a few horses.
It’s not really business for him, he just loves the lifestyle and finds it peaceful, especially since it was owned by his grandfather.
Bucky, his golden retriever, is already losing his mind at the sight of me. Tail wagging like he’s powered by joy alone, pressing his nose up against the front door.
“I’ll see you later then,” Greg says as he opens the truck door.
I nod. “Yeah, see you, man.”