Outlaw’s Kiss

by Sophia Gray

  Bridgette shifted onto her side so she could watch Kyle again. He lay on his side, turned toward her, an arm stretched above him up against the headboard. His face was so smooth when he slept. He looked younger. Even his scar seemed less pronounced, though she knew that had to be a trick of the light.

  He’d promised her there weren’t any strings attached to last night. That he would back off if that was what she needed. She wanted to believe him, but she knew him too well, and she doubted he’d changed much in the past six years.

  When he wanted something, he went after it. He was capable of dogged determination when he felt the stakes were high enough, and that had always been something she’d admired in him. And she knew if he wanted her, he wasn’t about to give up.

  And she would capitulate. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. It was too much to say just yet how strong her feelings were for him, but last night hadn’t just been an escape for her. It had felt right—like the thing that had been missing from her life.

  For the first time since he’d left, she’d felt genuinely happy. Whole. Wrapped in his arms, lying at his side—even afterwards when they’d just curled up on the couch with another couple of beers to watch sitcom reruns, she’d felt totally at ease.

  She felt a twinge of guilt at it now, because there was no real reason for her to relax so easily when her livelihood and her life were in danger. Worse, she was opening the door to letting him into her life. She’d even begun to consider the possibility as she’d drifted off to sleep beside him.

  And she knew that could never happen. It wasn’t a matter of proving she could trust him, but him proving he could be good for Gabby, and she wasn’t sure he could do anything to show her that. She sure as hell wasn’t about to give him the chance.

  But, Christ, did she still love him? And if she did, how could she possibly stay away from him? She couldn’t keep doing this—giving in to her urges with wild abandon before suffocating in shame for having put her needs before her daughter’s safety. She couldn’t handle being pulled between those extremes. It was hell to be up so high one minute and down so low, drowning in guilt and anxiety, the next.

  At least for now, lying beside him, she could push all those worries away because the day hadn’t really started yet. She could allow herself a few more peaceful moments of shelter from the real world.

  Kyle inhaled deeply, breaking the steady pattern of his breathing. She watched him stretch and flex his body beneath the tangled sheets and slowly open his eyes. They focused on her, and a small smile broke across his lips. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she murmured. “Glad you’re finally up.”

  “Mm.” Kyle reached over to her waist and dragged her against him, lowering his lips down to hers for a surprisingly tender kiss. “I had to take a late call from Shark last night. I think I deserve to sleep in.”

  “I didn’t even hear you get up.”

  “You were out pretty hard, baby. You had two beers, and you know you’re a lightweight.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up. I wasn’t drunk.”

  “Well, you sure as hell slept like you were.” Kyle pressed another quick kiss to her lips before she could reply, then rolled out of bed.

  Bridgette stood up to follow him. “I wanted to talk to you about today.”

  Kyle paused at the door. He turned back to her and leaned against the frame. He only wore his boxers, which hung low on his hips. She couldn’t help but appreciate how sexy he looked then—lean and powerful. She’d missed the little things like being able to enjoy the sight of his bare body in the morning.

  “What about today? Listen, Shark said last night that Martin’s guy confirmed what I thought—whatever they’re looking for is in your bakery. And Martin’s not going to give up looking for it. He sent one guy. That wasn’t enough. Next time he sends a whole pack of his fuckers over, probably arms them just to be safe, and if you’re anywhere near the joint when they get there, you might catch a bullet. I’m not having that happen, Bridge, so you just let me handle it with the guys. We’ll find whatever they’re looking for and we’ll settle the whole thing. Okay?”

  “No, not okay. One guy walking into the bakery’s not suspicious. He can get away with that. And I know you said Martin’s got a couple cops in his pocket, but he’s not going to send his guys downtown in broad daylight to shoot the place up. Right?”

  Kyle frowned, his brow crumpling. “Probably not. But if anything happens—“

  “How many times do I have to tell you how important the bakery is to me? It’s the only thing I’ve got. I bet my future and my daughter’s future on making it a success, and I’m not sitting around here just because you think something might go down. Martin probably knows someone’s watching out for me. He’s going to be more cautious now. And if you’re right, if he does send some guys over, you, Bill, Shark, and Lion—“

  “Leo,” he corrected her.

  “Close enough,” she muttered. “Anyway, all of you will be there to keep me safe. You’re going to be searching the place anyway, right?”

  Kyle’s frown deepened into a scowl. “If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself—“

  “So don’t let anything happen to me,” she cut him off. “You said you’d protect me, right?”

  Kyle grunted and shook his head. “I said I’d keep you safe. And it’s safer for you to stay here. Shark told me someone in the Reapers heard Martin’s moving more people in on this after his guy failed.”

  Bridgette’s heart skipped a beat. “He knows already? I thought your guys still had him?”

  Kyle rolled his eyes at her, as if she’d missed something obvious. “Guys like Martin operate on a tight timeline with expendable errand boys. He may have underestimated us, but when he didn’t get a courtesy call from his boy, you can bet he sure as shit assumed the worst. He’s not the kind of guy who’s going to sit around on his hands, hoping for the best. Things are only going to get worse from here on out, so the farther away from whatever it is Martin wants, the better.”

  “I’m opening my bakery today. If you try to stop me, Kyle, I’ll call the police, and you better believe I mean it. So, are you going to stand in my way, or are you going to be smart about this?”

  Kyle folded both arms over his chest and stared at her.

  She didn’t flinch.

  “Fuck,” he bit out. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  She just arched her brow at him.

  “Fuck it. Fine. But we’re going to do what we need to do, Bridge, whether you like it or not. We’re going to get this taken care of.”

  “Fine.” Bridgette dragged her overnight bag over to her from beside the nightstand and began rummaging through it, searching for the outfit she’d packed. “I’ve got to go pick up my daughter. I’ll meet you over there.”

  “You’re going to bring her over here?”

  Bridgette glared up at him. “I told you I wouldn’t. That’s not going to change.”

  Kyle ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I told you, Martin’s escalating things. I don’t even want you out in public. Listen, until I get this taken care of, it’s probably a good idea that you don’t take your daughter anywhere. Martin might not try anything in broad daylight, like you said, but if his guys see you and your girl together, they’ll see an easy target to get leverage over you. If you won’t let me near her, I can’t keep her safe.”

  The thought of Gabby in some thug’s hands took the breath out of her lungs. “They have no reason to hurt her—“

  “Fuck, Bridge, they have every reason. They think you know where this shit’s stashed. They think you’re trying to make off with it and sell it. I don’t know why, but that’s what they think, and what they think is all that matters. If you want to keep her safe, you have to stay away from her. Okay?”

  She knew he was right. She hated that her daughter could get caught up in this, but hating the facts didn’t change them. She would just have to sit tight and h
ope Kyle and his guys would find whatever it was Martin was looking for. It couldn’t take long. Her bakery wasn’t that big.

  Besides, Marcy had already offered to let Gabby stay. It was just going to be a day more, maybe two. Gabby would forgive her.

  Bridgette set her clothes aside and reached for her phone, which was charging on the bedside table. “I’ll see if she can stay with my friend for a few more days,” she muttered, resigned.

  Kyle heaved a sigh. “I’m going to go make breakfast. How many eggs do you want?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Hey.” Kyle sidled away from the doorframe and moved toward her, the corners of his mouth creased in concern. He sat beside her on the bed.

  Bridgette held her phone in her two hands, staring despondently at it. She knew she should drive over to see Gabby, to explain to her in person. But she didn’t doubt Kyle when he told her things were getting more dangerous. And would it be worth the risk, however small, just to try to make it easier for Gabby to understand why she couldn’t pick her up and take her home just yet?

  Kyle slid a hand over hers. “It’s going to be all right, Bridge. I know things are shit now, but it’s going to be over soon. I’m going to fix this.”

  Bridgette closed her eyes. She wanted to believe him. But it was hard to when it felt like her world was coming down around her. She couldn’t run her bakery and she couldn’t take care of her daughter.

  All she could do was hook up with her ex, even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. Even though she knew it could go nowhere. She didn’t know what the right thing to do now was, but it sure wasn’t this. Maybe there was no right thing, only different degrees of wrong things.

  Kyle kissed her for the third time that morning, this time pressing his lips to the side of her head. “I’ll call you when the food’s done.”

  She felt the mattress lift as he stood and left. She clutched the phone tighter. This is the best thing, she reminded herself. She could always make it up to Gabby. But she would never forgive herself if even a hair on Gabby’s head was harmed because she wasn’t strong enough to make this hard choice.

  She phoned Marcy, who picked up after the second ring.

  “Hi, hon. What’s the word? How are things coming?”

  “Not too good, Marcy. I hate to do this, I really do, but I’ve got so much work to do today to catch up from the break-in. I don’t want Gabby to have to spend her whole Saturday running errands with me or sitting on the floor behind the counter at the bakery. There’s just no good place for her there. Would you mind terribly if she stayed another night? Really, I hate to impose—“

  “It’s no problem, none at all. Gabby’s a little angel. You just get back on your feet and don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  “Thanks, Marcy. You’re a lifesaver. Is she up? Could you put her on the phone?”

  “Of course, hon, just a second.”

  There was a bit of fumbling, then she heard Gabby’s sleepy voice on the other end.

  “You’re not coming to pick me up.” Gabby stated it flatly, as if it were just a fact.

  The words pierced Bridgette through the heart. “Not today. I’m so sorry, I just have a lot to get done, and it would be no fun for you. You’ll have more fun staying at Lena’s.”

  “I’d rather have no fun but be with you, Mommy.”

  Bridgette didn’t know what to say. “I don’t think so, baby girl. Listen, it’s not going to be much longer. I promise I’ll be over as soon as I can. Okay?”

  “Sure, Mommy.” Gabby didn’t sound convinced, though.

  Bridgette hated this. It wasn’t right that she had to hurt her daughter like this. Because she knew she was. Ever since Gabby was born, they’d only ever had each other. Bridgette had told Gabby time and time again that it was them against the world—everyone else could leave them, but they’d always have each other. And now, even though she knew it was the best option, even though there was no other way to keep Gabby out of harm’s way, it felt like she was breaking that promise.

  “I don’t like this either, honey, but this is what’s best. I’ll call you this afternoon and tonight to check in, okay?”

  “You’re not even going to come over to see me?”

  Bridgette closed her eyes tight. “I can’t, Gabby.”

  “Why not?”

  Bridgette sucked in a deep breath, trying to steel herself. God, she wished she could say something to make Gabby understand. She wished she didn’t have to lie like this. “I won’t have time. I’ve got a lot to do. But I promise I’ll call, okay?”

  Gabby didn’t answer.

  “Did you hear me? Gabby?”

  “Yeah. Bye.” There was a click, and then the sound on the other end of the receiver turned to nothing but a low dial tone and dead airspace.

  Bridgette slumped back onto the bed. What if she was wrong? What if she couldn’t fix this? What if Gabby hated her now and never believed her again?

  No. She couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t beat up on herself for the choices she was forced to make in this situation. She forced herself to sit up and take the first steps toward getting ready.

  She would lose herself in her routines today. She would pray Kyle found whatever Martin was looking for, and quickly. And then she would work on doing damage control.

  Chapter 14

  Bridgette

  “All right, and three fourteen is your change—“

  The sound of something hard colliding with concrete resounded up through the stairs leading to the bakery’s basement. Bridgette winced.

  Her customer, a middle-aged businessman who was likely on his lunch break, stared at her, wide-eyed. “What the hell was that?”

  “Renovations,” Bridgette lied smoothly, doing her best to keep her voice apologetic with a tinge of frustration. “This is an older building, and the storage space downstairs was starting to have some major problems. I’m really sorry for all the noise, but I couldn’t afford to shut down until the job was done.” She handed the man his change and the oatmeal cookie she’d bagged up for him.

  The man still stared at her, his surprise colored with a little suspicion. “What are they doing, tearing out the foundation?”

  Bridgette winced again. God, I hope not, she thought. “There’s a lot of work to do,” she hedged, still smiling saccharinely. “Was there anything else?”

  “I’d look into your contractor if I were you,” the man muttered under his breath before leaving the shop.

  Bridgette let loose a pent-up sigh of frustration. This was not going well.

  When Kyle had told her he and the guys were going to search the basement, she hadn’t thought that their search would entail so much noise. Or outright destruction.

  It hadn’t been bad at first. That morning, when she’d been prepping recipes for the day before opening shop, they’d been pretty quiet downstairs. She’d heard the occasional scuff of a storage rack across the concrete floor, but she’d chalked that up to the emptiness of the bakery and her own hypersensitivity.

  But after that, as the hours dragged on with apparently no success, things had grown noticeably louder. When her first few customers had come in to get coffee and muffins, she’d heard the unmistakable sound of something hard and heavy colliding with drywall. When her customers had asked, the lie about her “renovations” was born. It was a convenient excuse that explained away why she’d been closed for a couple of days as well as the strange noises coming out of the basement.

  She’d found time in between serving customers to run downstairs and see what was actually going on. She’d found Kyle and the three other guys tearing out chunks of drywall and using a small flashlight to search the wall space. The smallest of them—Shark, she remembered—held a hatchet in his hand. All four of them were covered in white dust. It looked as if they only intended to intensify their efforts going by the other tools spread out on the ground—a sledgehammer, crowbars, ice pics, even a power tool she could
n’t identify, though her best guess was a mini jackhammer. Her first thought was that they intended to completely demolish the basement.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she’d snapped at Kyle, though she’d been careful to keep her voice down so it wouldn’t carry up the stairs. “You’re wrecking the building! And we can hear you upstairs—“

  “Well, that’s just how it’s going to be,” Kyle had replied, unconcerned. “We’re not going to pussyfoot around with this. It’s going to be loud, and you bet your ass we’re going to search every crack of this place until we find what we’re looking for. If someone doesn’t like it, you can tell them to get the fuck out.”