by Rie Warren
Figuring it was just MJ returning from her girls’ night out, I thought nothing of pulling on my jeans so I could at least be presentable. But then Honoré snapped at me to stay put. She slipped into a robe she securely belted and smoothed down her hair without realizing she missed a giant snarl in the back. Plus she had that fresh fucked glow all . . . damn . . . over her.
Didn’t know who she thought she was kidding.
And when she quietly tiptoed from her own bedroom like it was the scene of a crime, a sick sort of curiosity hit me in the gut.
A sick feeling that intensified when I heard Honoré kind of whisper-call, “Caleb, honey, is that you?”
That jealousy from last night burst into red hot rage. Caleb was here in the house?
I hadn’t taken Honoré for the two-timing type. What the hell was I? Her dick on the side?
I stepped into the hallway then padded to the living room all set to catch her red-handed . . . and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Mommy, who’s that man?”
The little boy struggling to break free of Mommy’s hug pointed straight at me.
Caleb was Honoré’s kid?
“I told you to stay put,” she hissed at me.
Then Momma Joan entered, banging through the front door and humping a couple backpacks and rolled-up sleeping bags.
Didn’t want to lose her as my biggest cheerleader when Honoré was busy glaring holes through my body, so I rushed over to her.
“Here. Lemme take some of that stuff.” I hefted the bags from her shoulders and set them on the floor by the couch.
When I straightened up again, MJ appeared to be slobbering at the sight of my bare chest.
Fan for life.
“My, my, my. You have been busy, Honoré.” The older woman winked at me, a playful glint making her eyes shine.
“Momma Joan!” Honoré screeched, standing up and keeping one hand protectively on the little boy’s head. “I . . . you’re back early.”
She flapped her other hand, clearly rattled.
Caleb tugged on her, eyes as big as the hubcaps on my car. “Mommy, did you have a sleepover?”
Not bothering to smother her laugh, MJ looked very interested in hearing the answer to that particular question.
Honoré seemed to have lost her voice.
Smoothing down my hair and trying to look less like a big bad dude, I paced over to the pair.
Hunkering down, I held out my big paw for a handshake. “Uh, hey kiddo. My name’s Saint.”
“A saint like in the Bible?” The towhead slipped his hand into mine, so damn tiny I worried about hurting him.
“Definitely not like in the Bible,” Honoré answered, searing me with a scathing look.
Err, yeah. Nothing saintly about what I did to her last night.
Despite the awkward situation, I couldn’t stop myself from smirking.
Caleb squinted at me with eyes the same icy blue as his mom’s. “Did you forget your shirt? Mommy doesn’t let me walk around without a shirt on ’less it’s one of those days she says it’s so hot like to fry an egg on the road.”
I laughed at the talkative boy. He sure didn’t suffer from a lack of personality.
Cute kid. Looked a lot like Honoré. But wait? What about the dad?
I glanced questioningly at Honoré, but she ignored the great big elephant in the room like why she hadn’t bothered to tell me about her son in the first damn place.
MJ bustled over. “So, how about I take Caleb out for breakfast. Let Saint find his shirt and things.”
Then she snickered knowingly.
Stiffening up at the prospect of MJ taking Caleb out, Honoré didn’t seem like she wanted to be alone with me. But she had some answering to do so I wasn’t about to step in to save her.
“Thanks, Momma Joan.” I smiled at her then made a fist for Caleb to tap. “Nice to meet you, Caleb. Hope we can hang out sometime.”
“Okay!” He bumped my fist and, when MJ nudged him, he added, “Nice to meet you too, sir.”
“Sir? That’s some good manners your mom taught you.”
“Guess so,” he sighed before turning to his grandma. “Can we get the waffles with the whipped cream?”
Hugging him to her hip, MJ made for the door. “More sweets? Didn’t you get enough with the S’mores last night?”
“Nuh uhn.” Caleb was vigorously shaking his head, and I heard him begging as the two of them started down the front steps.
“So that’s Caleb?” Standing up from my crouch, my posture stiffened.
Honoré immediately crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you know anything about Caleb?”
I shrugged, a little guilty. “Saw a text on your phone last night.”
“You were snooping on my phone?”
“It just popped up when you were in the bathroom.”
“Oh.”
I dropped down onto the couch, and she kept fidgeting with the tie of her robe.
“Would you like some coffee?” she offered.
“No. I’d kind of like to know why you didn’t tell me about him.”
“Well I don’t see how my son has anything to do with you!”
“Jesus Christ, woman. I’m not judging you or anything.”
She sniffed prissily. “I didn’t think you were. And again, Caleb is absolutely none of your business.”
I pounced back up to my feet. “I don’t get it. What’s the big deal? You’ve been deliberately keeping your son a secret from me all this time?”
“It hasn’t even been a month, Saint.”
“Yeah? Well maybe it’s been longer than that for me. That I’ve been thinking about you.” Fucking hell. I’d pinned my goddamn future hopes on this woman, and it looked like I didn’t really know a damn thing about her.
A surge of anger blistered through me, and I stalked right up to her. “Is there someone else?”
“What?”
“Is there another man?” I roared.
“Another man?” Her head reared back, and she laughed. “My god, you’re all the same, aren’t you?”
“Answer me.”
Because if there was, I never would’ve pursued her.
Wasn’t really into getting my heart broken for me.
Her expression softened, long lashes falling to cover her stunning eyes. “No, Saint. There’s no other man. There hasn’t been any man for a very long time.”
I whistled with relief. “Thought you said MJ was on a girls’ trip.”
“I lied. She was chaperoning Caleb’s end-of-year school trip.”
“Maybe we should make that coffee now,” I suggested.
We moved into the kitchen, a hundred silent questions hanging in the air.
We made the coffee together—Honoré getting out the grounds and filters, me filling the pot.
“Do you like scrambled eggs?” she asked.
“You offering?”
“Figured you’d be hungry after . . .”
“After last night.” That instant hunger for her returned—especially knowing she was naked under the thin silky robe—but I tried to tamp the greedy lust down. “Sure. I could eat something.”
Her eyes flickered with a heat I now recognized before she doused the flame.
The last time I’d said something like that, I’d been talking about eating her out.
And damn, she’d been good.
We made breakfast, drank the coffee, ate the eggs.
All the while I took stock of a thousand clues I should’ve noted before.
The kids’ toothpaste in the main bathroom that time I’d finger-fucked Honoré on top of the sink.
Something I’d seen on her sheet music last night—a piece of paper tacked to the corkboard that had a shaky drawing of a heart and the messy writing Luf you!
Stacks of juice boxes in the refrigerator.
I chuckled.
“What?” Honoré’s fork halted halfway to her mouth.
“Guess I should’ve put tw
o and two together before this.” I pointed to a semi bizarre drawing on the fridge.
Seemed to depict alien lifeforms. Squinting hard, I figured out the colorful picture was Caleb’s version of him, MJ, and his mom.
As Honoré looked at the picture, an expression of pure undiluted love made her face seem even more heavenly.
It was obvious Caleb meant everything to her.
Yet . . .
“Still don’t get why you were hiding him from me. Didn’t you think I’d eventually find out?” I asked, fiddling with my refill of coffee, chunky rings rapping on the mug.
“I . . . I didn’t think we were gonna last that long.”
Ouch. The woman sang so beautifully. She was absolutely stunning. She came like a banshee on my cock, and she was still a viper.
“You think I’d be such a frigging monster or something?” I shoved back from the table with screech of chair legs. “Do you not even get one single bit of who I am? Did you see how fuckin’ happy I was about Grace and Slade and baby Haven?”
“Of course I did! I mean, not that you’re a monster.” She bent her forehead to her hands before peering back up at me. “I just really didn’t want to get involved emotionally.”
Fuck. So I was basically screwed.
“I should go then. And you’re right. I never should’ve met your kid if I’m just a fucking cock on a leash to you.” Nostrils flaring, lips thinned, I started getting up.
“Don’t! Just wait. Just give me a second to . . .” Honoré’s eyes filled with emotion.
The emotion she so-called didn’t want to feel.
I sat my ass back down.
I waited.
“I just want to protect Caleb. He’s already been hurt enough. And I judged you wrong from the first moment I saw you. I’m sorry for that, Saint.” Reaching across the table, she intertwined our fingers.
“Guess I’m used to that, looking the way I do. Just thought you were willing to try with me is all,” I spoke gruffly.
“I am. I promise. I didn’t expect to . . .”
Snorting, I squeezed her fingers. “What? Actually like me?”
She huffed a laugh. “Something like that.”
“His dad though, is he in the picture?”
“Not so much.” She pulled her hand from mine, and her lips turned down. “He’s not the best of men, you could say.”
“And I’m not him. So are you gonna give me a chance for real or what?”
“It’s scary, Saint,” she whispered.
“Me? Scary?” I tried to lighten the mood, but my voice had thickened in my throat.
“I wasn’t prepared to feel anything.”
Suddenly I felt like I’d just won the Louisiana Lottery. I’d gotten to the woman, whether she wanted to feel something or not.
“You’ll be patient?” she asked.
“Like a fucking saint.”
As she rolled her eyes, her lips tilted in a smile she tried to hide behind the coffee cup.
“How old is he anyway?”
“Seven. Just finishing first grade.” A slight veil of unwept tears made her eyes look like crystals. “It goes by really fast. Time does with a child.”
I was seeing a soft, sweet side of Honoré now, and damn if she didn’t catch my heart even more.
“What does he like to do?”
“Fortnite.”
“What the hell is Fortnite?”
“An online game thing. First it was Minecraft—”
“Are kids super geniuses all of a sudden? If so, I need to warn Grace and Slade about this online gaming shit.”
Her laugh was bubbly and so very welcome.
Then she dropped her voice as if telling me a giant secret. “Oh, and he recently asked me what a spliff is.”
“No he didn’t.” Outwardly I cringed. Inwardly I’d been known to toke a giant spliff or two or three or more.
Honoré didn’t need to know about that though.
“Wait.” She sat up straight. “You saw his text last night.”
“That’s what I said.”
“And . . . you were jealous?”
“Yeah.”
She got up, sauntered over, and perched herself right in my lap. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“’Cause I’m shit-scared of making one wrong move with you, and frightening you off.”
“You like me.” Playful, Honoré ringed her arms around my neck as I set my hands on her hips.
“You bet your sweet ass I do.” Grabbing her butt, I gave her lush flesh a squeeze. “I more than like you.”
****
I left after finding my shirt and getting all the way dressed. Tempting as it was to lay Honoré out on the kitchen table and give it to her good, I knew she wouldn’t want to get caught in the act if MJ and Caleb came home again.
I settled for a goodbye kiss, and what a kiss it was. My hands delved beneath her robe, and I groped a good handful of her ass to draw her tight against my body. She bit my bottom lip in a way that made me groan then I lashed her tongue with mine. Her hot whimpers nearly threatened the last shreds of my control, and I finally broke away.
She needed to reunite with her little boy, and I probably had to go to work. I’d skipped out on Tit for Tat almost twenty-four hours ago what with making up with Honoré then all the baby stuff.
I banged into Thunder Road, all ready for my next telling off from Angel.
But nobody was there.
No Chase behind the bar.
No Sol in the kitchen.
No sign of anyone in the MC chapel.
I frigging hoped the Death Dealers hadn’t come back to retaliate over Ripper.
Alarm bells began going off inside my head when I kicked open Revenge’s door upstairs only to find his room also empty, empty like the bottle of Jack that rattled across the floor when I kicked it out of my way.
Trundling back down the stairs, I hollered, “Hello?”
No answer.
Rushing outside, I tried the door to Tit for Tat.
Locked.
What the fuck?
No signs of a struggle anywhere so . . .
Since when was any old Tuesday cause for a holiday?
I glanced in the direction of Angel and Mercy’s house then my head jerked toward Grace and Slade’s place.
There were pink balloons everywhere.
Ahhh, so it was a New Baby holiday.
I almost slumped in relief. At least that explained things. First MC baby. Guessed everyone was still excited as fuck.
After showering and putting on clean clothes, I ambled on up to baby central and let myself inside since no one answered my knock.
The living room was practically standing room only—Grace and Slade’s house as full as a packed night at the bar.
And there were the ladies of the hour. Grace held court from a padded rocking chair that Slade had once explained was for nursing. The new momma’s face was shielded by her curly black hair as she bent down to Haven whom she cradled in her arms, but even so she radiated with a new aura of peace.
Making my way through the masses, I greeted Grace. “Damn. You got sprung from the hospital already?”
“Saint! We were wondering where you were.” The beautiful woman smiled then went back to cooing over Haven.
Slade ambled over, and he looked happier than I’d ever seen him. “Grace insisted on coming home. I wanted her to stay another night, but”—he dropped his voice—“I’m not about to rock the boat since she agreed to marry me.”
I glanced from his rugged face to his woman’s ring finger.
Then I hooked an arm around his shoulder to slap him on the back. “Yeah. Congrats, man. Think the two of you got us all in the gut when you proposed. Nice one.”
He slipped closer to his fiancée and laid one hand along the baby’s back and the other on Grace’s neck. “I got goddamn lucky, didn’t I?”
Around us, a few of the guys coughed gruffly. I had to clear my damn throat too.
> Still, this soppy lovey-dovey shit was way better than sex trafficking bastards and white supremacist douchebags.
Mercy, Angel, Chase, Revenge, Lennox, Sol and the rest were all there. For once we got to revel in the good stuff instead of battling against the truly terrible crap.
The room was full of people and more presents and more flowers.
Also a giant cooler of beers.
Revenge passed a brew over to me, and we clinked bottles.
I took my first sip before oh so casually mentioning, “Turns out Honoré has a kid too.”
Angel’s sharp blue eyes landed on mine. “Did not know that.”
“Neither did I.” I savored another cold taste of beer.
“And I’m assuming she doesn’t know about you and the Leather Devils. Or you and the Death Dealers?” Angel cross-examined me like I was guilty of something.
Which I was.
Shit.
Guessed I was the biggest hypocrite around when I really thought about it.
She didn’t know about my ex-con status either.
I didn’t really wanna think about all the potential personal landmines I’d been avoiding with Honoré, so I was glad when Mercy asked, “She’s a single mom?”
“Yup.”
“Cool.” Lennox raised his bottle in silent salute.
“That’s what I thought too but Honoré thinks I’m a fucking bad influence or something. Or she did. And we had a big blowout . . .” My words petered out as I felt a cool stare boring into the back of my head, eerily like Honoré’s hard glare.
Turning, I was caught in Grace and Slade’s crosshairs.
“Shit. Probably shouldn’t swear around baby Haven, right? Come to think of it, better watch my mouth around Caleb too. That is, if Honoré actually lets me be in the same room as him.”
“Caleb’s his name?” Revenge asked.
“Yup.”
“Cool.” Lennox was his usual huge loveable lug.
“Saint, I don’t think Haven Elizabeth has started picking up bad language just yet.” Grace passed the tiny bundle of baby girl over to the proud papa. “But I’m warning y’all right now that when she starts talking, I’ll box the ears of any one of you who curses in front of her.”
“Ah couldn’t agree more.” Mercy aimed her own glare up at Angel.
He pasted a Who me? look on his face before hugging her close.
“How old is the kid?” The prospect piped up.
