Still Standing: Wild West MC Series

by Ashley, Kristen

  He took his time examining my face as if to ascertain if what I said was true.

  When he got that from me, he moved on.

  “Thinkin’ on things, again recently, been wonderin’ if I didn’t do right by Kristy.”

  That surprised me.

  “Sorry?”

  “I expected you to just snap to and get with the program. That program bein’, I just expected us to fight. That’s what I had with her, and we were together for fifteen years. I just expected there were times it was gonna get ugly and you’d not only roll with that, you’d meet that ugly time after time. It didn’t hit me, again until recently, that I had a different kind of woman on my hands. And now I’m wonderin’ if I expected too much of Kristy.”

  “Expected too much in the sense you expected her to look after her children and not stab you with a knife?”

  “Babe—”

  “I know she was young too,” I said curtly. “But you make adult decisions, you learn very fast to become an adult. You have no choice. And it seems to me, you stepped up. You wanted a family. You made a family. You learned a trade and provided for that family. You joined your Club and offered more family to your family. And you love your children and show it. You could be tough on Tat, but never when she didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry, Buck, but Kristy doesn’t get an out on this. I’m glad you came to the realization that I’m not her and we’re not going to have what you had with her. And the kids are not going to have to endure what you two had. But she doesn’t get a pass on being a shitty mom.”

  “All right, baby, cool it,” he whispered.

  But his eyes were glinting humor.

  “I’m not finding anything funny,” I warned.

  “I know. And I love you for it. ’Cause you’re pissed for the kids. You’re pissed for me. It’s cute. Sweet. Hot. And I cannot even begin to tell you what it makes me feel, seein’ you tonight, sittin’ in bed with my little girl, talkin’ about whatever you were talkin’ about. Just a girl who needs the example of a good woman, and that good woman bein’ right there. And me bein’ the dad who found that for my girl.”

  Oh no.

  I pushed my hands between us and gave his chest an ineffectual shove, snapping, “Don’t make me cry.”

  “You said not five minutes ago I didn’t know the steady I give me kids. Just pointin’ out the good you bring to that equation.”

  “This isn’t helping me not to cry,” I warned.

  “Right, then, we done with you learnin’ about my family and Kristy so we can fuck?”

  “No, I have thirty-eight years of the life and times of West Hardy to learn.”

  His brows shot up. “Tonight?”

  “No. Though, I will warn you, I also want to know your hopes, dreams and deepest desires.”

  “My deepest desire right now is to get blown before I fuck you.”

  I rolled my eyes before I said, “We can talk about sexual desires too, but maybe we can round that out with other stuff.”

  “Like what other stuff?”

  “Like, you clearly want a future with me.”

  “Yeah,” he stated firmly. “I clearly want that.”

  “And you want to eventually get married.”

  “Told you this already.”

  “And you want a child with me.”

  “Told you that already too.”

  “Do you want two?”

  His head cocked to the side. “Do you want two?”

  “Yes,” I whispered carefully.

  “Then I’ll knock you up twice. Do you want three?”

  Three?

  “Five children are a lot of children, Buck.”

  “So you don’t want three.”

  “Well, do you? Want three more, that is?”

  He sighed before he stated, “Okay, let’s cut to the chase. I want what you want. I like kids. Too bad you didn’t come into my life earlier, ’cause first, I got a load of you, I’da dropped Kristy like she was a pan left on the heat too long.”

  A surprised giggle escaped me.

  Buck continued speaking.

  “And second, Gear and Tatie, when they were little kids, were cute as fuck. Tatie pullin’ some a’ her shit notwithstanding, kids are awesome. You want three, I’ll give you three. You want two, we’ll just have two. You want four, we gotta have a discussion because I’d like to enjoy my retirement, not be attending graduations when I’m eighty, those bein’ graduations of my own fuckin’ kids. That sound like a plan?”

  It sounded like the best…plan…ever.

  “Yes.”

  “You up to blow me now?”

  “Yes.”

  His head dropped, I thought he was going to start it, but he only gave me a brief kiss before he pulled away.

  “Love you wanna know about me, baby,” he said softly.

  God, he was amazing.

  “Sorry I didn’t ask before.”

  “Doesn’t matter, you’re askin’ now.”

  “It kind of messed us up a little bit,” I admitted.

  “Yeah, maybe it did, but you’re right. Kristy doesn’t get a pass on being a shitty mom. But you get a pass when your life’s fucked right the hell up, you find yourself a man who knows right off the bat he wants to go the distance with you, and you’re so up in your head, it takes you a while and a huge fuckin’ drama to clue in. I’ll give you that pass and learn, you don’t seem to be cluein’ in, I best get on helpin’ you with that.”

  I could even feel my gaze was heated when I informed him, “It’s time for me to suck you off now, Buck.”

  He smiled, all white teeth in dark beard.

  And it was totally time for me to suck him off.

  Right now.

  He kissed me again and this time it wasn’t brief.

  He rolled us while doing it.

  Eventually, I got down to business.

  Then Buck took over.

  33

  Family

  I was dead asleep when Buck shook my hip.

  I opened my eyes to see it was still dark.

  I did this also to a sleepy feeling of surprise that Buck was ready to go again.

  Needless to say, the kids imminently going to be living with us, me asking Buck to share about his life, us knowing what we were to each other, we’d celebrated.

  Energetically.

  And this was on top of an emotional day where we’d celebrated (energetically) on and off all day.

  I turned to him and he whispered, “Baby, I’m sorry. But it’s happening.”

  I didn’t like his tone.

  And I didn’t understand his words.

  “What’s happening?”

  “He’s slippin’ away.”

  It was then, I understood.

  Oh God.

  “You were in with him,” he kept speaking. “Talked to ’em, told ’em to call when it came time. They called. You wanna be with him?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Get dressed.” He paused then his voice was weighty when he said, “Hurry.”

  I got out one side, Buck got out the other, and I hurried.

  Even if I hurried, Buck was dressed and out of the room before me.

  And by the time I followed him, I saw the lamp by the couch lit, Buck at the door, and Gear was with him.

  Dressed and ready to go.

  I looked to Gear then to Buck.

  “West—”

  “Gotta wait for Tat. She’s hurryin’,” he said.

  I made it to him and whispered. “I don’t—”

  “Family,” he grunted a grunt that said I need not reply.

  I gave up on him and turned to Gear.

  “You don’t have—”

  “No way, Clara. No way you’re doin’ this without Dad and me and Tat,” he declared.

  I shut up.

  Tatie dashed out of her room hopping, still pulling on a boot.

  “Ready, ready…I’m ready,” she said.

  Buck had planned all this.


  He’d told them.

  Prepared them.

  And when it was time, they were ready.

  We walked to Buck’s SUV.

  But for my part, I did it with difficulty because Buck’s arm was so tight around my neck, Tatie had a death grip with both hands on my biceps, and Gear was crowding Tatie.

  We got in the car, Buck started us on our way, and then he tossed his phone in the back seat to the kids.

  “Don’t care which one of you do it but get on the line with Tia and then call Mrs. Jimenez,” he ordered.

  I turned my head to him.

  “Buck—”

  I again got no more out.

  “You think those two women will ever forgive me if I let you do this without them?”

  Well, putting it that way.

  I didn’t answer.

  “Right,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, hi, is this Tia?” Gear asked from the back seat.

  I stared out the windshield.

  “We’ll get there, babe,” Buck assured.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  He took my hand and held it.

  He drove.

  Gear’s voice came from the back seat.

  And Buck got us there.

  * * *

  “I di-didn’t think, you…you’d—”

  “Quiet,” I whispered to Rogan.

  His parents were across the bed from me, as well as his sister.

  They all looked immensely sad,

  I’d liked them. They’d liked me. I’d missed them. And from the looks on their faces when they saw me, they’d missed me.

  There had been no bad blood, they understood.

  But I’d left them when I left him because I’d had to leave it all behind me.

  “I’m sorry,” Rogan said.

  “Stop it,” I said.

  His eyes went to his mom. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop it, honey,” she whispered, her voice catching.

  He looked to his dad.

  His father made a noise I never wanted to hear again in my whole life.

  Before he carried on with this, I leaned over and touched Rogan’s face.

  He turned his gaze to me.

  “That’s not how Rogan Kirk goes out,” I told him. “The man who was so handsome, I found it hard to breathe, just looking at him.”

  “Clara.”

  His voice was so weak.

  So weak.

  “My first love,” I went on.

  He closed his eyes.

  “You asked me if I loved you, but you didn’t notice I didn’t have to ask if you loved me.”

  He opened his eyes.

  “I always knew, Rogan. You never let me doubt it.”

  “The women—”

  “Stop it,” I hissed.

  He shut up.

  “Our wedding day, do you remember?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  God.

  His voice was getting weaker.

  “You trying to get to me, and Tia was barring the door, shouting about how a groom isn’t supposed to see the bride,” I continued.

  His eyes closed.

  His lips curved.

  “But you got in, didn’t you? Nothing could keep you from me.”

  “So beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Yes, that’s what I thought about you. And then I tripped during our first dance.”

  His lips stayed curved.

  “You caught me and laughed so hard and held me close through the rest of the song, just swaying.”

  His lips stayed curved.

  “Whispering in my ear what a klutz I was and how cute you thought it was.”

  His lips stayed curved.

  “I loved you, Rogan.”

  “Loved…me.”

  The words drifted.

  “I loved you so much, Rogan.”

  His lips were still curved.

  “I loved that you loved me.”

  His lips remained curved.

  “I loved how much you loved me.”

  His lips stayed curved.

  “Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” a woman said quietly. “He’s gone.”

  His mother’s sob tore through the room.

  I dropped my head to his hand I was still holding.

  And I remembered him holding me so close, laughing as he swayed me on the dance floor the day we got married.

  It took me some time, but I lifted my head and I didn’t look at him.

  I didn’t want to remember him that way.

  I just kissed his hand and straightened away.

  My eyes caught on his family.

  His dad was holding his wife and daughter in his arms, both crying in his chest.

  His father was looking at me.

  “Thank you,” he mouthed.

  I nodded.

  Turned.

  Walked out of the room on legs that felt strange.

  Down the hall.

  Buck got to me first, wrapping both his arms around my head and shoving it against his chest.

  Tatie wrapped herself around me next.

  Gear, after that.

  Tia pushed in.

  Mrs. Jimenez rubbed my back.

  I let the love of my family instill some strength back into me.

  Then I put some pressure on my head and Buck loosened his hold.

  I tipped it back.

  “Can we go home?” I asked.

  He stared into my eyes.

  And answered.

  “Absolutely.”

  34

  Voodoo

  “Jesus, you need to chill out, darlin’.”

  “Yeah, Toots, it’s only Granddad. You need to chill out.”

  “I think Clara’s bein’ kinda cute.”

  This was coming from Buck (the first), Tatie (the second) and Gear (the last).

  We were standing by a round picnic table that was bolted to the floor in a big room that was a sea of round tables that people were standing by or sitting at.

  All of this in a prison.

  I was in high-heeled booties, dark-wash, bootleg jeans, a long-sleeved white tee and a spruce blue, open front, high-low, waterfall cardie.

  This outfit had taken three days, five phone calls to Minnie, two to Lorie, and one to get validation from Pinky before I decided on it.

  It had a minimal edge (the booties), so it did not scream BIKER BABE!

  I should have worn my high-heeled boots and a jeans miniskirt (an item of apparel I did not own).

  Then again, we had a dress code we had to adhere to, and miniskirts were prohibited.

  A door at the far end opened and a bunch of men in orange jumpsuits started strolling in.

  Too late now.

  “Oh dear,” I whispered.

  “Babe,” the arm Buck had around my neck gave me a squeeze, “he’s gonna love you.”

  “Right,” I muttered.

  “He’s totally gonna love you,” Tatie added.

  “Right,” I repeated.

  “Clary, fuck, you love us, we love you, he’s not gonna have to get with the program,” Gear said, sounding like he was laughing. “He’s just gonna be with the program.”

  I was about to look at Gear.

  But then a tall, handsome man with a good deal of silver in his still-dark hair came sauntering through the door. A man I’d seen younger in pictures. A man who exuded magnetism and charisma, even in an orange jumpsuit with a white T-shirt under it.

  And I just barely curbed my desire to bolt.

  He caught sight of us, and a big smile lit his face, widening the silver-and-dark goatee around his lips.

  “Granddad!” Tatie called.

  He put his arms out before he got to us, so when he made it to us, they were in position for Tatie to fall into them.

  And she did.

  We were allowed physical contact.

  Hugs. Cheek kisses. Handshakes.

  At the beginning and end of the visit.

  Tatie got her hug and cheek k
iss.

  Gear got his hug with several stout pounds on the back.

  Buck got his hug, no pounding on the back, it was tight, and it lasted longer.

  Oh God, yes,

  Locke Hardy loved his son.

  A lot.

  Buck broke from his dad and turned to me.

  “Here she is. Clara,” he introduced.

  “Honey,” Locke Hardy said softly in his gravelly voice that reminded me of Buck’s.

  My eyes instantly started stinging, but gamely, I shoved out my hand.

  He was shifting my way, but he stopped when I did that and stared at it.

  “She’s nervous, Granddad,” Tatie announced.

  “And she’s being a total dork,” Gear added.

  Locke looked to his namesake.

  “Son,” he said with soft reproach.

  “Well, she is,” Gear replied.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hardy,” I declared.

  He looked at me with his warm, brown eyes.

  “All right, darlin’, I’ll give you that one, but then we’re not doin’ that anymore. Yeah?”

  “Sorry?”

  He moved right past my hand and hugged me.

  Okay.

  Yes.

  I was totally going to cry.

  “Thanks for lookin’ after my granddaughter,” he whispered in my ear.

  Oh God!

  Totally going to cry!

  “And makin’ m’boy happy.”

  “My, uh…it’s my pleasure.”

  “And I’m Locke, or you can call me Dad. Though you can wait on that ’til we get to know each other better. Your call.”

  He wasn’t helping!

  “Okay,” I said shakily.

  He lifted his head but didn’t take his arms from around me and shared, “You can hug me back. I don’t bite.”

  “Oh no!” I cried. “It wasn’t that. I just—”

  “Buck talks to his daddy,” he said softly. “I know you don’t got a lot of practice with this, Clara. We’ll get used to it, though.”

  I nodded.

  Then I slid my arms around him.

  He pressed his jaw against the side of my head, gave me a squeeze and let me go.

  Buck claimed me, smiling down at me with a smile that shared he thought I was a dork.

  We moved to the table, all of us sat, and Tatie started babbling about…well, about everything.