by Amelia Shea
“I am voicing a concern as a citizen of…”
His voice trailed as Saint stepped closer, right next to Bailey.
“You don’t use that tone with her. Do you understand me?” Saint paused, and Bailey widened her eyes and shifted on her feet. The tension on the street was thick, and she was unsure how this would play out.
“I was j-just…” Arnett stammered his words, and Bailey jerked her head.
“I heard, and I’m telling you…” Saint’s voice dropped. “Watch. Your. Tone.”
She drew in a breath and prepped to insert herself back into the conversation. This was on the edge of getting out of hand. She knew what Arnett was capable of with his nasty tongue. She’d been front and center for the Phoebe incident, and she didn’t want history to repeat itself. She inched toward Saint, who leveled Arnett with his glare. Before she could say a word, Arnett shuffled back on his feet and started down the sidewalk heading toward his car. They watched in silence as he got in and drove away, shooting a hateful glare in their direction as he passed.
She bit back a smile, noting this was the second time Saint had come to her rescue after a verbal attack from Arnett. He was focused on watching the car as she slipped closer and slid her hand into his palm. He tightened his grip and glanced down at her with his hardened scowl.
“He’s an asshole.”
Bailey chuckled, bowing her head. Saint tugged her closer, and she immediately fell into his side, resting her free hand on his stomach.
“He’s difficult, yes.”
Saint snorted and leaned closer. “You’re too nice.” His lips grazed her mouth, and she melted against him. She didn’t give a single thought to who may be watching. Her mind was shadowed by Saint and his lips. She circled her hand around his waist to his back. If she had her way, they would be in a full-blown passionate kiss in less than two seconds. Unfortunately for her, Saint pulled away, leaving an inch gap separating their mouths.
She shook her head, and he cocked his brow in response. “No such thing as too nice, Saint.”
His brows knitted together. “Bailey,” he whispered in warning.
She knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing she’d been told over and over by the councilmen and other residents. If she didn’t put Arnett in his place, he would continue to berate her.
She rested her chin on his chest and watched as his jaw retracted, and his tightened features eased slightly. The moment would have been perfect if not for the shouting call for Saint coming from across the street. She turned her head and pulled away slightly when she made eye contact with the voice.
Kase, Gage, and Rourke stood in front of their shop, staring at her and Saint. Her slight move was stopped when Saint tightened his hold on her waist.
“I gotta talk to Kase. Then I wanna take you on the ride I promised. Sound good?”
She nodded and scanned the street. Just a block away, his bike was parked near the corner. Saint pressed a kiss to the top of her head and moved forward. With their hands still intertwined, she was tugged forward. She dug her heels into the ground, and he turned back.
“I’ll just wait for you by your bike, okay?” It was posed as a question, but it was more of a statement. She had zero desire to be around Kase and any member of the club right now. She didn’t think any differently of them except Dobbs. Her embarrassment lingered, and she wanted to keep as much distance as possible.
Saint eyed her suspiciously before glancing over his shoulder at his brothers. His lips flattened, and he nodded, releasing her hand. “Just give me a minute.”
She nodded and started down the street. She snuck a peek across the street to find Gage and Rourke staring at Saint, waiting on him. Not Kase, though. His eyes were trained on her as she made her way down the street. She jerked her gaze and bowed her head, continuing toward Saint’s bike.
She’d never had an issue with any Ghosttown Rider before last week. She wasn’t holding a grudge or upset with them as in guilt by association. She’d never do that. The members had always been welcoming and kind to her. This was on her, something she needed to work through before looking them in the eye.
The woman’s words replayed in her head, sending doubt to who Bailey was, and she hated it. Why can’t I just let it go? Her eyes teared briefly before she sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves. Maybe it was time to reach out to her therapist again. It had been over a year since she’d seen her. Bailey thought she had finally put it all past her and moved on. It was proving to be a harder task than she anticipated. With Adam’s impending release and the vile words spoken, old wounds flared, and she wasn’t sure how to move on.
She paced around Saint’s bike, smiling when she saw two helmets. One of those is mine.
She glanced up when she heard the heavy boots descend her way. Saint stalked forward. There was power in every step, a strong, confident stride. Visions of him naked had her rubbing her thighs together. Am I seriously getting wet from this man walking? Yes, she was. As he moved closer, she caught a figure standing across the street. Gage and Rourke were walking back into the store, but Kase was standing at the curb, staring at Saint. Or me? She ducked her head.
Saint stopped and reached for her helmet, handing it to her, before taking his own. She put it on, and when he instructed her how to get on, she stepped on the pedal and swung her leg over the side. The seat was more comfortable than she imagined it would be. She nestled her butt against the cushion, leaving a small space between her and Saint. He glanced over his shoulder and smirked.
His arm reached around, pulling her into his back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and flinched as the engine roared. They had always been loud driving down the road. The sound was almost deafening, being so close. She didn’t mind. She snuggled closer and felt his hand rest on hers.
“Where do you wanna go?”
“I don’t care. I just wanna go for a ride. First time, remember?”
Under her palm, his chest rumbled. No doubt, he was laughing. His hand tightened on hers before releasing her and gripping the handlebars. One quick look to his left and they were off. She gasped and tightened her arms around his waist. Her stomach jumped and the excited energy strummed through her blood.
It was freeing in a sense, and slightly scary. He started down Main Street and turned right onto a country road. She knew Ghosttown well. Taking this road would only lead them to one place. She smiled with the wind beating against her face.
The river in Ghosttown was her favorite spot. Now, she was heading there with her favorite guy on her new favorite mode of transportation.
Perfect.
Chapter Eleven
Saint had been sitting in the back of the town hall for the past hour. Usually a member or two attended. Tonight, he was the only one. When he offered to go alone, all the brothers seemed relieved. The last meeting had been close to two hours.
He folded his arms and settled into his seat. He had an ulterior motive for being there. Spending the afternoon with her was not enough. He needed more time.
When he offered to come tonight, she tried to persuade him not to bother since it would be an Arnett show, as she called it. She nailed the description. The old man spoke for thirty minutes until he was cut off by another local wanting to change the subject and veer it toward a discussion on a town park.
Most people seemed relieved with the new topic. Especially his woman. She bounced slightly in her seat at the mention of a park. They talked about funds, which Arnett piped in complaining of the cost. He made a mental note to speak with Kase. Maybe the club could throw some money toward the financing of the park. They had a lot of connections he could utilize to save money for the town.
Once Bailey tapped the gavel, people filtered out. Saint remained seated, eyeing Arnett as he walked to the exit. The old man must have sensed him because he jerked his head in Saint’s direction. He fumbled a bit from Saint’s harsh glare and ducked out through the doors.
When Bailey started toward him,
he stood. Her smile was bright and aimed directly at him.
“Hi.”
Saint nodded. She seemed to rush toward him then abruptly stopped a foot away. She scanned their immediate area, then turned to him.
“What?”
She shrugged with a low giggle. “You don’t seem like a PDA kind of guy.”
He wasn’t. Ever.
“I guess kissing you is out of the question, huh?”
He raised a brow. “Do you want to kiss me in front of the town?”
Her smile grew, and she stepped closer raising on her toes and swiping a tender kiss along his lips. It was a mere greeting, nothing scandalous.
“Gerry is doing clean up tonight, so I’m free to go.” She licked her lips and stepping closer. “Do you want to come over to my place?” Her eyes widened, waiting on his answer.
It was sweet and cute, and a completely ridiculous question. Of course he wanted to be with her. He dropped his hand from her waist and intertwined his fingers through hers. She tightened her grip as he led them to the door. He caught a few stares, some whispers, and appreciative smiles aimed at Bailey.
They made their way through the parking lot. He walked toward her car, where his motorcycle was parked next to her. Her phone rang, and Bailey retrieved it with her open hand. The gravel crunched under his boots, echoing through the open lot. When she squeezed his hand, he glanced over. She seemed to be in a trance staring down at her phone with her brows knitted together. She hadn’t answered the call.
“What’s wrong?”
She jerked her head as if momentarily she’d forgotten he was beside her. She blinked and shook her head, shoving her phone back in her bag.
“Um—” She licked her lips nervously. “Nothing.”
“Bailey.”
Her lips were tight, and two fine lines indented between her brows. “Telemarketers,” she blurted as if it was the first thought in her head. Saint simply nodded, not acknowledging her lie.
“If it’s too late and you don’t want to come over, I’ll understand.” He caught the disappointment in her tone.
He raised his brows. Something had changed and drastically. A few minutes earlier she’d been eager to get him back to her house. Before the phone call. When he remained silent, she nervously shifted on her feet.
“I just mean, I’m really tired.” She waved her hand in a circular motion and stammered, “I probably won’t be great company.” She drew in a breath and glanced up at him through her lashes.
He wondered if he pushed about the call whether she would open up. Obviously, whoever it was, triggered something inside her. Forcing her hand on opening up to him was never the plan with Bailey. As much as he wanted to know who had called, it wasn’t worth pushing her away. Saint had a strong idea who the caller might have been. He was well aware her ex had reached out to her. He just didn’t know if she usually answered his calls.
He released her hand and wrapped his arm over her shoulder. Bailey curled into his embrace. “I’m pretty tired myself. You opposed to me coming over and sleeping with you?”
She slowed her steps, and the wariness he’d seen a minute ago had diminished. “You’re willing to come over just to sleep?”
Saint snorted. “I’m asking to come over just to sleep.” He stopped and turned, grabbing her face between his palms. “You in my arms sounds like a perfect way to fall asleep.”
She smiled and rose up on her toes, pressing her lips against his. It was the answer he needed.
A half-hour later, they were snuggled in her bed. He was tempted to check her phone once she’d drifted off. He could get away with it, and she’d never know.
I would know. Trust was the foundation for every relationship. Saint wouldn’t compromise his life with Bailey to appease his curiosity. When she was ready, she’d tell him. Until then, he’d respect her privacy.
Sleep came quick for him, feeling comfortable with her curved in his side. He wound up sleeping better in her bed than he did his own. Maybe it was because she was next to him.
When he woke hours later, he reveled in his cozy position with Bailey curled into his chest.
He could get used to spending the rest of his life this way. With her.
Bailey turned in his arms, still asleep, curling her face into his chest, and he smiled. She reached out, resting her arm over his waist. He hadn’t taken a long look at her scars when she was watching him. Now, while she slept, he got an in-depth look at the torture some bastard had inflicted on her. His hand grazed slightly over her arm, feeling the red raised ripple skin under the pads of his fingers.
He wasn’t turned off like he knew she suspected he would be. Instead, it made him want to be closer with her. Assure her the worst in her life was truly over. From here on out, with him, it would all be beautiful. His finger traced up her arm to her shoulder where the scars were most severe and slid over her chest. The scar stopped abruptly at her breast. He had noticed a few burn scars scattered on her stomach and a fairly large patch on the side of her thigh. He knew most people, and possibly Bailey herself would see them as horrific. He viewed them as badges of survival.
She curled into his chest and flickered open her eyes with a sleepy gaze. God, she was beautiful.
“Hi.”
He smiled and leaned down, taking her lips. He couldn’t resist. He was going to miss her the next few days. His tattoo shop was having most of the renovations done this week, which meant he’d be there long days and nights.
“Busy week for the shop. Gonna miss this all week.”
She glanced up through sleepy eyes. “The weekend’s not so far off.”
Saint swiped her hair from her forehead. “Got Cia this weekend.”
“Oh cool.” She leaned up on her elbow. “You should take her by the river. They have a bunch of hiking trails. The views are amazing.” Her eyes widened with excitement. “And go for pizza. They’re opening on Friday. I’m telling you, it’s so good. Something about the bread they use.” She bit her lips, and he smiled. She was deep in thought. “We don’t have too many things for kids. I really need to start my push for the town park.” When she crinkled her nose, Saint smirked. So damn cute. “You should check out Turnersville, where Cade and Riss live. They’ve got a great park, and there are a few shops Cia might like.” She snapped her fingers. “And hit the candy store there. I love that place.” She giggled.
It sounded like a great plan with only one thing missing.
“What time will you be ready?”
She flickered her lashes. He’d caught her off guard.
“For what?”
“To come with us. T drops her off at ten on Saturday. We can swing by and get you about eleven.”
Saint didn’t like what he was seeing. Bailey’s face paled. “Um,” she paused, taking in a breath, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because isn’t it too soon?” She pulled away from him, another reaction he didn’t like. “I think it’s just too soon. Maybe in a month.” She scanned the room. “Or two,” she muttered.
“Bailey.” He sighed. He hadn’t expected this. She made a point of speaking about Cia, and so did he. He needed them both to meet. He was guessing her cancellation from the previous weekend would be a trend, and he was not happy about it.
“I’m not ready, and you can’t push me on this, Saint.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she whispered, “You can’t.”
Saint was realizing from her reaction, the fear she was dealing with about meeting his daughter was greater than he had thought. There wasn’t a rush, except his own impatience of wanting them to all be together. If she needed a little more time, then he’d give it to her.
He reached out, grasping her arm and tugging her down to his chest. His lips glided across her forehead. “We’ll wait, sweetheart.”
She relaxed against his chest and sighed.
****
Bailey glanced down at the dashboard. It was just after ten. She clucked her ton
gue. A little late for breakfast and too early for lunch. All her thoughts were on Saint. In the past month, she’d stopped by a few times with food. He’d been working tirelessly on his shop, and she wanted to help out any way she could. She had an ulterior motive. She wanted to see him.
The last four weeks together had been perfect. A few hitches, mainly her needing to wait on meeting his daughter. He mentioned when he had her and waited on her response, which was always a decline. Most recently, she was realizing her desire to meet Cia was slowly outweighing her own insecurities.
Progress.
She was just pulling up to an open spot on Main Street when her phone rang. She had planned on ignoring it until she saw the name pop up. Bailey put the car in park, smiled, and answered the call.
“I miss you, come home,” she said, which was greeted with a loud giggle she’d missed in the past four months.
“Ahh, God, girl, you always know exactly what to say.” Phoebe sighed. “A couple more months and I’ll be raising hell in Ghosttown, don’t you worry.”
Bailey settled in her seat. “Everybody misses you. Town meetings just aren’t the same without…”
“Inmate 76857890?” Phoebe laughed, which made Bailey smile. At least she could find the humor in the incident. Most residents could, and also saw the logic in what happened. She knew Phoebe well enough though to read past the humor. Her friend wasn’t proud of what had happened.
“How are you?” Bailey asked.
“Same old, though I did get a contract for a six-month gig, which my bank account and shoe obsession are thoroughly grateful for.”
Phoebe was a web designer. She’d set up the town website free of charge, though Bailey insisted on paying her. She declined, saying it was a form of community service.
“Congratulations, Feebs.”
“Yeah, well, it helps with the court fees.” There was an awkward pause. Bailey was about to ask what was wrong when Phoebe spoke. “Talked to Marley last night.”
