OLIN (A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga Book 3)

by Debra Kayn

  "Don't move, Ash," said Olin from the other room.

  She raised her brows at his tone. All week, he'd been quiet and sensible any time she'd brought him into the conversation she had with their son. He hadn't bossed her around or argued with her.

  It was as if he planned on being polite and distant with her. Frankly, his attitude toward her unsettled her. She couldn't shut her emotions off around him.

  "That almost sounded like an order, "she whispered to Trik, making a funny face. "What am I supposed to make of that, huh?"

  "Eat!" Trik giggled, showing her his mouthful of food.

  She leaned over him and kissed the top of his head. "I love you so much."

  "Me, too." Trik chewed another bite.

  She smiled at her son, knowing there was someone else that loved Trik as much as her, and it was getting harder to remain a mature, sensible person around him. Determined to have her son back in her life, she'd focused on being civil and proving that she was strong enough to have a relationship with Trik.

  As Olin made it easier to spend time with Trik, she found herself noticing Olin more. He'd changed over the last three years. It was as if he'd kept everything she loved about him and added on a level of responsibility that shockingly amazed her.

  He'd learned to cook and seemed comfortable fixing basic dinners for Trik. His patience was never-ending. He answered all of their son's questions even when he didn't know the answers. He put his family first in his life, and from what she'd seen, his social life, the club, and even his father and brothers came after taking care of Trik.

  Olin had become less like Ashley's father and more like what she had always wished for her whole life. A man that stuck around and continued to love.

  And, as she'd discovered his ability to dedicate his life to Trik, she realized over the last three years that she'd always known from the start what kind of father Olin would be. What kind of man he would've been for her.

  And, while they were no longer together, she needed him to still be in her life. That her biggest fear of losing Olin completely had been exonerated because when she'd needed him the most, he stepped up and proved himself.

  It wasn't fair that she'd put him in that position when she'd given him Trik but he'd more than dedicated his life to his family.

  Olin walked into the room, dropped a bag on the floor, and said, "Your turn. Go get dressed."

  She looked back and forth between Olin and Trik. "He's not done with his sandwich."

  "Not him. You." He walked into the kitchen and wet a towel, wringing the cloth out. "We're going to the clubhouse. Our son is going to hang out in the daycare room with Kylie and Sydney."

  "Um, no, I'm not." She crossed her arms.

  Olin returned to the dining room and wiped Trik's face. "Do you want Mommy to go with us, son?"

  "Mommy go," said Trik.

  "That's not fair," she whispered.

  "I've never been much for rules, Ash," he whispered back. "I bet our son would like to see you in that black, tight skirt I know is in our closet with those fancy black heels you were fond of."

  "You were fond of them," she mumbled.

  His gaze warmed and fell to her legs. She tingled all over and huffed before walking out of the room. Had he checked her out?

  Inside the bedroom, a room she hadn't entered—couldn't enter since hanging out at Olin's house, she sucked in her breath, overwhelmed with the emotions flooding her body. He was taking her to the club? As a family?

  She fanned her overheated face. What was he thinking?

  Was the invite for Trik's sake or Olin's?

  He'd mentioned their son going to the daycare room. Why would Olin want to be with her tonight?

  "God, I can't handle this," she muttered to herself.

  She opened the closet, finding everything the way she remembered over three years ago. Running her hands over her clothes, she hoped she fit into them. All the weeding in the field helped take off some of the extra weight she'd gained in prison after having Trik, but was it enough?

  Stopping on a pair of her favorite jeans, she almost took them off the hanger. It would teach Olin from thinking he could tell her what to wear.

  She found the black skirt, picked out a black and red slinky blouse and changed her clothes in the bathroom, relieved that everything fit the way she remembered, albeit a little tight on her waist.

  "Hurry up, Ash," yelled Olin.

  "Hurry up, Ash," mimicked Trik.

  She smiled to herself hunting for the shoes with the four-inch heels. Slipping them on her feet, she wondered if her makeup was still in the bathroom. They were going out as a family, and she wouldn't want to embarrass them.

  "Ash!"

  "Hold your horses," she said, hurrying through the bathroom door and finding her makeup right where it was so many years ago.

  Out of practice, it took her twice to get the eyeliner right. She put on mascara and looked in the mirror. The change in her appearance pleased her.

  She felt good.

  She felt alive.

  She felt free.

  Halfway down the hallway, nerves hit her. She'd aged. At forty-two years old, she no longer had the body Olin remembered. There were stretch marks, everywhere. The pouch on her lower stomach after having Trik had never gone away. Her skin was dryer. Her hair had seen better days. It was harder to smile, and when she managed in the mirror, she looked fake.

  She stepped into the room. Olin's head came up and his gaze connected with her before lowering to her legs and coming back up to her face. A soft whistle came from his lips.

  He nudged Trik with his arm. "Look at Mommy."

  Trik raised his gaze, putting his toy car in his mouth. "Mommy."

  "Yeah, that's your mommy, boy," he whispered roughly, standing up. "Let's get you in the truck. Mommy's going to drive you to the clubhouse. I'm going to follow on the Harley."

  She followed Olin out to the driveway because he kept looking at her. He looked at her in a way her stomach fluttered, and her mind raced and those doubts she'd walked out of prison with softened as she made her way out the door.

  Olin put Trik in the car seat. Ashley stood back out of the way until he shut the door and turned to her.

  "Olin, why are we going to the clubhouse?" she asked.

  He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Because Trik likes going and playing with the other kids and when we come home, he's already asleep. I just pop him in bed, and he's out for the night."

  Her spine stiffened. "Is that how you brought women around? Just bring them back to the house after our son was asleep?"

  He stared at her. She hadn't meant to say that. God, she really hadn't meant to say that.

  She'd pushed the thought of him moving on with his life and finding someone else out of her head to keep from falling apart because her recovery was necessary if she wanted a relationship with Trik, and yet that was the first thing that slipped out. The first thing she was going to get snippy about?

  He unsettled her. She wasn't ready to go out and be around people. She wasn't ready to be around him and not love him.

  Olin tipped back his head and laughed. She glared, finding nothing funny about him bringing a woman to the house after partying at the clubhouse. Around her son.

  He sobered and slapped her ass. "Keys are in the truck. Let's get going."

  She gawked, jolted into seeing Olin as the man that had belonged to her. The one who had stolen her heart at sixteen years old. The one who'd fought and made love to her more times than she could count. The one she lived her life around and had loved forever.

  Glancing at Trik, playing with his toy car in the truck, she blew out the air she'd been holding in her lungs and climbed in the driver's seat.

  For ten miles, she watched Olin in the rearview mirror. His hair blew behind him. His beard parted in the middle. His sunglasses reflected the setting sun.

  "Oh, Olin, you are looking good," she muttered.

  "Oh-win. Good," said the lit
tle voice beside her.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror one more time and then smiled at her son. They were together as a family tonight. Just like she'd always wished.

  Chapter Forty Four

  Jackie hurried through the crowd, waving her arm above her head. Ashley braced, leaning in Olin's direction. She wanted to stay with him tonight at the clubhouse.

  No distractions.

  No drama.

  No attention.

  She wanted to pretend that the last three years hadn't happened and they were two parents, two lovers, two people who'd promised to be with each other forever.

  He might not belong to her anymore, but he was present, he was respectful, he was—

  Jackie crashed into her. Ashley rocked backward and felt Olin's hand on her lower back, steadying her.

  "Aunt Ashley, you're back." Jackie, the same height as her, hugged her tightly and as quickly stepped back and grabbed her hands. "I've missed you so much. I tried and tried to convince Chief to let me visit you, but he wouldn't let me, but I ask mom about you all the time and thought about you so much."

  "I'm here now." She smiled, taking in the beautiful young woman in front of her. Jackie had her mother's zest for life with an added sultry quality that came from Chief. "Your mom told me you're working and going to Tacoma Community. That's awesome. I'm so proud of you."

  "It's nothing, really." Jackie shrugged off the accomplishments and looked up at Olin, leaning closer to Ashley. "My brother looks happy."

  Ashley glanced at Olin. His gaze remained on the room, but he continued to keep his hand on her. Earlier, he seemed too comfortable coming to the party, putting Trik in daycare, and his ease at telling her that the rest of the night was theirs bothered her.

  "He's been wonderful with Trik," she said.

  "Oh, my God, Trik does this thing when he widens his eyes when he's hyped up that looks exactly like you. Both mom and I noticed it. He's so cute." Jackie heard her name yelled and looked behind her before facing Ashley again. "I need to go. A few of us are taking off to another party, but I'll call you in a few days, and we can get together, okay?"

  She nodded. "Be safe."

  "I will." Jackie hugged her again, hugged her brother, and rushed into the crowd disappearing.

  "I always knew she'd grow up to be a beautiful woman," she said.

  Olin grunted. "She's still a kid."

  "I was three years younger than her when we started having sex." She raised her brows and quickly lowered them, wondering if Olin, too, could read how excited she was by one facial expression that'd slipped out.

  "You were different." Olin leaned down and put his lips to her ear. "You threw yourself at me."

  She slapped at him, shocked that she'd fallen back to being at ease around him when he teased, and found Shore standing in front of her.

  "Well, well, well..." Shore's eyes lit up. "The most beautiful woman in the world has returned."

  Beside her, Olin's body tensed. A temptation swept through her, consuming her, grasping on to past behavior when she'd personally let the other men flirt with her to test if Olin would fight for her. Her lower stomach warmed, and she pressed her thighs together. God, the makeup sessions after a big blowout were fabulous and hot.

  "It's so good to see your face." She stepped forward before she could stop herself and threw her arms around Shore. "How have you been?"

  "I've been—"

  "Get away from her," said Olin quietly.

  Ashley let go of Shore, purposely ignoring Olin. "You're looking good. Are you taking care of yourself?"

  Olin growled. "Don't answer her, Shore. I'm warning you."

  Shore winked at her. "Can I get you a drink?"

  God, she'd missed the men of Brikken. They knew Olin almost as well as her and loved to egg him on. "No, I'm not—"

  Hands landed on each side of her waist, and her feet left the floor. She found herself two feet away from Shore, trying to gain her balance when a loud smack of a fist hitting skin came from in front of her.

  "Olin!" Hope filled her despite the guilt knowing she helped instigate the fight.

  Not a young man, at forty-eight years old, Olin shouldn't be fighting. He could get seriously hurt and how would he explain bruises and cuts to Trik?

  She grabbed the back of Olin's vest, pulling him without moving his hulk of a body away from hitting Shore again. A fist flew. Olin's head snapped around at the impact, and his wild eyes met hers as he stumbled from the hit.

  In that blinding light, she felt Olin's passion directed at her. She cupped the base of her neck, lightheaded. The hatred was gone.

  Brikken members congregated to the fight, cheering them on. Thorn appeared at her side and guided her away from Olin.

  "You have to stop them. I didn't want him to actually punch Shore. I don't know what I'm doing. I only wanted..." She thrust her fingers in her hair, upset with her weak moment. "Oh, God, Olin. I only wanted—"

  "He needs this. It was a long time coming." Thorn laughed softly, shaking his head. "It's his first fight since you left."

  She whipped her gaze to Thorn. "W-what?"

  Olin not fight? She couldn't believe it. He lived for punching and being punched.

  "He had a kid to raise." Thorn's eyes crinkled at the corners. "He didn't have a woman around to fight for."

  Wait. Over the years they'd been in a relationship, his fighting with other men was a sign of him fighting for her?

  She looked back at Olin, exchanging blows with Shore. The strength behind each hit rocking him forward, proving himself as strongest and bravest. Oxygen filled her body, making her see the thoughts behind Olin's actions. He lived such a caveman existence.

  Men at their rawest.

  Stupid, really.

  And, totally hot.

  She belonged to him, and he knew that deep in his soul. She'd always loved him. There hadn't been a day that her love disappeared. Not through the humiliation, pain, separation, and misunderstandings.

  She walked away from Olin toward the door because that's what she had always done. Her heart raced in fear that it would be the one time he'd allow her to leave.

  "Ash, get your ass back here," bellowed Olin from the other side of the room.

  Her body warmed at the sweetest declaration she hadn't heard in three years. She turned around, aroused and in love with the father of her child. Her childhood crush. Her man.

  Olin stalked toward her, bleeding from a split brow and lips more than twice their normal size. She reached for him, softly trailing her finger along his beard covered cheek.

  "You don't have to prove anything to me," she whispered, not caring if they were standing on the main floor of the clubhouse and everyone witnessed their conversation.

  She'd shout out her love to the world. She wanted him to know, and she was desperate for him.

  "Ash." He slipped his fingers into her hand, breathing hard. "Upstairs."

  Her dry eyes burned and a need low in her belly almost hurt from three years of neglect.

  He slowly tipped her chin, and she raised her gaze, remaining still, her hand settled on his chest.

  His upper body expanded. Underneath the palm of her hand, his heart raced. Positive her own lungs matched his ragged breathing, she could only stand there. He made it too easy, and she felt all kinds of frantic.

  He swept her up in his arms, making the turmoil in her body wage war with her sensible side.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking his hair out of his face, shaking because she finally was able to touch him. He held her gaze, unmoving except they were moving. Toward the stairs. Up the steps. Into one of the bedrooms. They'd been here before. Many, many times.

  Their love, always present. Often out of control, but they'd figured it out before, and they'd figure it out again.

  He kicked the door shut, put her on her feet, and backed her across the room. Taking her hands, he held her wrists against the wall.

  "No more back and forth."
He kissed her hard. "No more being a guest in your own fucking home." He pressed his hard cock against her stomach. "You're in my bed being my woman. Being our son's mother. Now."

  She gasped, trying violently to touch him, to agree with everything, but he held her in place. His arms like steel, proving his words, his love, his ownership.

  "I'm not using a condom with you." His tongue licked his swollen lip. "Trik needs a brother or sister."

  She snapped her gaze up, banging her head on the wall. "I'm forty-two..."

  "Then, we better fucking hurry." He let go of her arms and lowered his hands, lifting up her skirt.

  His rough fingers slid over the sensitive skin of her hips as he hooked his finger under the side of her panties and ripped them down her wobbly legs. She stepped out of the material, bare from the waist down.

  Olin's attention went to her heels. She undid the remaining three buttons on her blouse and let the material fall to the sides. Her pre-pregnancy bras pushed her breasts up and over the edges of the material.

  His gaze traveled up, and he sucked in his breath, grabbing her and placing her prone on the bed. "Don't move."

  He drank her in as if he hadn't seen her before. Her need to cover herself left as she witnessed the approval in his dark eyes. Approval she always needed and what broke her when she'd been on the receiving end of his disapproval and anger.

  Olin removed his pistol and put the weapon on the dresser, then unlatched his belt. She pushed up on her elbows wanting to touch him.

  He undid his zipper, tugging his jeans down to his hips and freeing his cock. A pool of arousal opened in her, and her nipples peaked.

  "You are the sexiest woman I've ever seen," he said, stepping forward.

  "Is it wrong to hope I'm the only woman you've ever seen...?" She pursed her lips. "In the last three years?"

  He hovered above her, braced on the mattress. "I was never with someone else while you were gone, Ash," he said, roughly. "I was too busy dying inside."

  Her eyes closed and she swallowed before looking at him again. This was her Olin.

  "I love you." She cupped his face, digging her fingers into his beard. "I don't want to spend another minute away from you and our son."