Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3)

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Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3) Page 9

by Cat Porter


  I folded my arms and eyed her, my pulse springing in my neck. “I’m not Catch the Asshole either.”

  “Whatever you say,” she muttered, her eyes narrowing. “You’re seeing Mindy, aren’t you?”

  The two of us glared at each other. A Mexican standoff without the guns.

  “Mindy and I aren’t—”

  She threw a hand up in my direction. “Right. Whatever.” She put the bottle of juice back in the refrigerator and slammed the door shut. “Let’s forget this conversation. Totally embarrassing, all of it. You’ve got Mindy and a bunch of other chiquitas wherever you go. I get that. Believe you me, I get that. What do you need me for? I need to get a grip.” She pummeled the door of an open cupboard, whamming it closed. “Thank you for the wake-up call.”

  “Is that what you think of me? That hooking up with women, one after the other, is all I’m capable of?”

  “Isn’t that what you just said?”

  “No! That’s not what I said. I—”

  She lunged at me and kissed me deep. Declaration and defiance and desire. Her tongue searched for the answers she wanted in my mouth.

  Fuck, if only I could give her what she wanted.

  She ended the kiss and swept my hair back from my face, a small hand wrapping around my neck. “I like you. I want to be with you. I don’t care that you’re older than me. You’ve got a few gray hairs. News flash: So do I. Only difference is, I cover mine up with a box of hair color once a month.” She raised herself on her toes and planted a gentle kiss on my lips. “You’re seeing Mindy. She’s younger than me. What’s the difference?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Yeah? What the hell’s the difference? Why is it okay that you fuck her, and you can’t fuck me?” She froze, her mouth dropping open, her eyes huge. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that.” She visibly shrank and turned away from me, leaning over the kitchen counter. “Please forget I said that.”

  “Jill, I like you. I do.”

  Her head whipped around, and she faced me, her eyes glassy. “What do you like about me?”

  “What’s not to like? I see you, and I fucking lose all control. Any logic flies out the window.”

  “Tell me.”

  I took in air through my nose, my eyes riveted on gray-blue ones. “Your softness. Underneath that sharp-talking mouth are endless curves of creamy soft I could get lost in.”

  “Go ahead,” she whispered. “Get lost.”

  The heat between us vibrated. Several feet of distance separated us in that kitchen, but I could feel her skin on mine, her breath on me right that very instant. She wasn’t going to let this go or let it be, and she needed to. She beckoned me into a new world, that world, but I couldn’t go there with her. It would blow me apart, and I was already blown apart. Decades’ worth of debris.

  She took in a deep breath. “I want you. I like you. It’s very simple and very real.” She searched my eyes, her chin set. “Would this be a problem with Grace? Is that why—”

  “No, of course not. It wouldn’t bother her.”

  “Or the club? Because of my history with Catch. Is that why you’re—”

  I shook my head and moved towards her, my hand reaching out and drifting across the soft skin of her upper chest, so pale next to mine. So delicate. Unmarred.

  Her eyes fluttered for a moment. “If you want to keep this a secret, that’s fine with me.”

  “Secrets are poison.”

  Becca’s singsong shouts rang out, and the bump and crash of thick plastic echoed from the living room.

  I removed my hand from her silky throat and stepped away from her. “She threw her sippy cup now, huh? Guess she wants a refill.”

  “She’s not the only one,” Jill mumbled.

  “I gotta get moving anyhow.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You do that.”

  “Jesus, Jill.” I turned and swung open the screen door, hustling down the narrow steps.

  Behind me, the door crashed.

  “JUST ONE MORE BLOCK, and we’ll be home, sweets.” I guided Becca’s stroller down the last block before Rae’s street.

  This sleepy neighborhood, in a quiet almost nondescript small town on the edges of the Black Hills, really had become our home in the past four months that we had been here. I was glad I’d jumped on Tania’s offer to come to Meager with her. It was so crazy impulsive of me—oh, what else is new?—but without a doubt, it was the best impulse I’d had in years, if not ever.

  Dusky orange, startling pink, and faded blue illuminated the thin blanket of bumpy clouds in the vast sky over us, yet just as quickly as the colors had surged to life, the brilliant glow began to fade into the sunless, murky shadows of early evening.

  I pushed the stroller past the row of boxy houses that were all the same shape and size. It wasn’t a very exciting neighborhood really, but there was comfort in the familiar lines, a gracious pleasantness in the clean, well-cared-for exteriors, an ease in the spinning whir of water sprinklers filling the air. Each house sported a manicured lawn, trimmed with a variety of flowers and potted plants, and seasonal banners hung by a number of front doors. Only the ding ding of an ice cream truck was missing.

  “I love our sunset walks, Becca. It’s so much nicer here than where we lived before. We’re so lucky to be living with Grandma.”

  My heart squeezed at the thought that I was finally able to give this simple goodness, this kind of no-need-to-freak-out-about-tomorrow contentment to my daughter. Not freaking out about my tomorrows was very unusual for me. I’d been a pro for years now.

  But I was freaking out about one thing, one person.

  Boner and I hadn’t spoken to or seen each other since last week when he’d come over with Rae’s prescriptions, and we’d fooled around in the kitchen. No, fooled around was a ridiculous phrase. It had been more than that—something positively violent. At least for me.

  He’d only touched me, barely entered me with his fingers. He hadn’t even had the chance to make me come—well, almost, but that didn’t matter. It was a beautiful, glorious, hot, and crazy moment, and I couldn’t stop daydreaming about it. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about what it would be like to have his naked body against mine, demanding surrender and abandon.

  But he always stopped it.

  I hadn’t heard from him or seen him since our finger-fuck that never was. He probably had shut it out of his mind, hitting the Delete key in his memory chip, and that was that.

  Boner still saw me as that vulnerable, needy teenager he had shooed off club property a lifetime ago.

  I shouldn’t have to convince him to pursue anything. He wanted to fuck me, but I was a loaded issue. I wasn’t some chick he could just do and dump. No, I was a part of his inner circle now.

  The kitchen event was strike two, wasn’t it? I really didn’t want to suffer the humiliation of a strike three.

  Time for me to hit that Delete key, too.

  I let out an exhale as I pushed the stroller around a bump in the road where a tree’s roots had broken through the asphalt, creating an ugly ruptured mound. We turned the last corner and my breath snagged, my eyes widened.

  The alien invasion had landed.

  The angry black monster trimmed in dark orange and midnight blue skulked in the driveway behind my car.

  That Harley.

  His Harley.

  My illusion of liberation. The bike I’d ridden on for years, thinking I’d found the man of my dreams. The bike I’d ridden on, feeling the anxiety of not belonging, the tension of being wrong and trying to make it right.

  I gulped in a breath, and my heart jumped back to life.

  “Becca, your daddy’s here.”

  I gripped the handlebar and guided the stroller up the street toward Rae’s driveway. I unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and steered the stroller into the house.

  Rae sat in her padded lounge chair, her face drawn, her big dark eyes deceptively calm. “There they are,” she said,
her voice straining to inject cheer into the room.

  Catch’s long legs were stretched on the coffee table. His eyes flicked over me.

  Yep, still sexy with that lazy slouch he’d perfected, the always mussed brown hair, the twist of indifference on his lips. In concert with his perpetually creased forehead and the opaqueness of his small brown eyes, he could aim a what-the-fuck look at you without any effort at all.

  Yep, still relieved to be away from him.

  Plastic smile. “Hey. This is a surprise.”

  His lax expression turned positively acidic, and my pulse sprinted.

  Is there something I should be worried about?

  Catch rose up from the sofa, his height filling the room, and I stepped back as he approached us. He bent over the stroller.

  “There you are, cutie.” Snap click went the seat belt. “Daddy’s here. Look at you, baby girl.” He held her in the crook of his arm and planted kisses on her nose, her cheeks. Slowly, I let go of my pent-up breath.

  “I’m sorry. Did I miss your call?” I asked.

  “No,” he replied, his eyes glued on his daughter, who studied his face, a finger in her mouth.

  I glanced at Rae. Her hands were flexed stiffly in her lap.

  I should have been pleased that he’d come, unannounced or not. This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? Becca’s dad to see her, Rae to reconnect with her son.

  “This is a nice surprise, huh, sweets?” I patted my daughter’s back. “Would you like some coffee? There’s plum cobbler. Rae showed me how to make her recipe this morning. There’s ice cream, too. Have you had dinner yet?”

  “We have chicken pot pie from yesterday,” Rae added.

  He ignored us, and turning away from me, carried Becca to the couch.

  My scalp prickled. “Well…I need to get Becca her fruit and yogurt. Rae, do you need anything?”

  “Just bring me the yogurt. I’ll feed her,” said Rae, her eyes on her son and granddaughter.

  “Okay.” I ducked into the kitchen.

  I got out the organic vanilla yogurt and an apple and a pear from the refrigerator. I washed my hands, cleaned the fruit, chopped it up, and tossed it into the small food processor. My limbs functioned on automatic. I was a robot performing its tasks.

  I guess a ladies’ only evening of me and Rae watching that Magic Mike DVD that I’d rented for us this afternoon was now out. I’d been looking forward to a laugh and a mindless couple of hours.

  I pressed the button on the food processor again to make the fruit pieces smoother, its sharp buzzing noise drilling into me.

  He was being strange. I knew him too well. He usually joked and made small talk. My stomach did flip-flops as I mixed the fruit cream with the yogurt. I scooped it into Becca’s bowl, grabbed her spoon, several napkins, and her bib, and I flew back into the lion’s den.

  “Here we go.” I set the bowl on the small round table at Rae’s side.

  Rae wiped her hands with an antibacterial wipe. “Drew, could you bring her high chair from the kitchen?”

  “I’ll take her,” I murmured, approaching Catch.

  His dark eyes settled on me as I took Becca from his arms. He tracked into the kitchen, and I shot Rae a questioning look. But what was I expecting? She was his mother. She had to be thrilled to see him.

  Rae’s lips pressed together, and her eyebrows quirked. Ah, Rae was not feeling the love either. Somehow knowing that she was as suspicious as I was only knotted my stomach tighter.

  Catch returned with the high chair and set it at his mother’s side.

  I slid Becca into the seat and fastened her belt. “There we go. Time for fruity tootie!”

  “Apple, Mommy.” Becca smacked her lips together, her little fists banging on her tabletop.

  “Yes, honey, an apple is in there,” I said.

  Catch and I stood side by side like awkward preteens at a school dance as Rae fed Becca.

  “Drew, get something to eat, son. You cannot come for a visit and not let me feed you.”

  “I could eat. The cobbler sounds good. Haven’t had anything like that in a long time.”

  Becca’s tongue lapped at the yogurt on her face.

  I went into the kitchen, and Catch followed me.

  “I’ll microwave it for you. With the ice cream, it’s better warm,” I said.

  He only nodded.

  “It’s good to see you.” I grabbed the cobbler from the fridge.

  “Is it?”

  Not really, but what the hell do you want me to say?

  “Of course,” I replied. “What a great surprise for your mom and Becca.” I shoved the plate of cobbler in the microwave and tapped at the keypad.

  He leaned back against the counter, his gaze wandering around the kitchen. “Bad surprise for you?”

  “What? No. I’m glad you came.”

  “Where’s Tania at?”

  “She’s out of town, chasing a lead on some antiques just over the border in Wyoming.”

  “She hanging out at the Jacks’?”

  I took out the carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. “She spends time with Grace. Tania’s been helping her out with a project over there, going through some stuff they’ve had in storage for a while.”

  “You helping her with that?”

  “No, I help out your mom.” I jabbed and scraped at the hard ice cream with the metal scoop.

  “You don’t go over there?”

  Here we go again.

  I squared my shoulders. “I’ve brought my car there for a tune-up and to have my tires replaced. Another time, I dropped off a couple of things for Tania that she’d forgotten at home, and I hung out with Grace in her office and helped her answer a few phone calls before going to a doctor’s appointment.”

  Fuck.

  I still hadn’t told him I was a gestational surrogate for Grace and Lock. I was almost four months along now, and I needed to tell him. It shouldn’t be a big deal. It wasn’t like I had met someone else and was getting married and moving to the Philippines and taking Becca with me. But everything having to do with Catch made me anxious. His temper was mercurial, his reactions unexpected. A real Gemini.

  His brow creased. “Doctor’s appointment for Becca? She okay?”

  I got the dish out of the microwave and topped the warm cobbler with the ice cream.

  “At her age, there are regular visits, vaccinations—that sort of thing.”

  “Right.”

  Great, and the lying begins.

  I handed him the dessert. “Here you go.”

  Catch dragged his spoon through the mound of sweet, creamy homemade goodness. He gouged out a heaping spoonful and shoveled it into his mouth. His brown eyes rested on me while he ate.

  “It’s good, right? You like it?”

  He nodded. “So”—he swallowed—“you like it here?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Yeah, Jill.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why?”

  “I really like your mom. She and Becca are great together, and it’s the best thing for your mom to have that kind of happy distraction right now. Becca has her grandmother in her life. She’ll never know my parents, of course.” I took in a tiny breath. It was still hard, still hard to talk about, to say out loud. “Now that Tania has come back to stay, it’s been fun.”

  “Fun, huh?”

  “Yeah, we all get along, enjoy each other’s company. It’s nice.”

  One of his eyebrows rose as he shoveled in the last spoonful. “A real family.” His plum-smeared dish clattered on the counter at his side.

  The same spot on the counter where Boner had fingered me to heaven a few days ago.

  I cleared my throat. “We’re all a family, right? Becca misses you. If you had called us, we could’ve planned—”

  “Been real busy lately. Hard to get away.”

  “Things are good then?”

  “Yeah, Finger gave me a few more res
ponsibilities. It’s all good.”

  “That’s great. I know that’s what you’ve been wanting.”

  “Yeah.” He shifted his weight, staring at me, studying me.

  I took his dish and brought it to the sink. “Rae is doing her exercises, and she actually feels better more often. She learned how to inject herself with her—”

  “What are you talking about, inject herself?”

  I rinsed his dish and tucked it in the dishwasher. “It’s one of the medications for MS, Catch. It’s really expensive, too, but luckily, her insurance is covering it—for now at least.”

  “It took her a while to come to the door and open it. She was using a cane.”

  “She uses a cane now and a walker.”

  “It’s strange, seeing her have a difficult time moving. She was always a really active, independent person.”

  “That’s what Tania said. We weren’t expecting you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken Becca out and left Rae to answer the door on her own. If she falls again—”

  “We’re finished!” Rae called out.

  I grabbed the microfiber dishcloth and went and picked up the empty bowl, wiping down the high chair’s table top.

  “You want me to take the high chair back to the kitchen?” Catch asked at my side.

  “Yes, please.” I unfastened Becca from the seat, and Catch took the chair.

  “Someone was very hungry!” Rae laughed.

  “You ate everything, didn’t you?” I said to my daughter.

  She murmured something to me, her fingers in her mouth.

  “Rae, I need to take a shower, and I can get that done before she needs a diaper change, which should be pretty soon. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. You go on. Take your shower.” Rae shooed me with a hand.

  “I got her,” Catch muttered, taking Becca in his lap.

  I tossed her lilac and pink ponies onto the sofa next to him. Becca grabbed on to the lilac one right away, brandishing it in her dad’s face.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.” I charged down the hallway toward the bathroom.

  “Take your time, honey,” said Rae.

  I closed the door behind me and took in a deep breath. Okay, so far, so good.

  He was a bit cranky but seemed to actually want to be here to see Becca and his mom. He hadn’t called first, which still made me nervous, but he was here. He was here, and that was a good thing, a step in the right direction. He was probably tired, which was making him moody. Nothing new there.

 

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