My heart skipped at the sight.

It was cute.

It was sweet.

I liked that Buck could be like that with his girl. I liked that Tatiana had that because every girl should have that.

At the same time, I was jealous because I never did.

And the emotion wasn’t jealousy that I felt at knowing I’d never see a daughter of mine do that with her father. A father that was my husband, my man, my lover, someone I trusted and loved who I intended to spend the rest of my life with.

No, that feeling wasn’t jealousy.

It was something else altogether and that something caused not a small amount of pain.

I decided against going in and making a pitcher of margaritas in favor of giving father and daughter more time.

I walked to a teak deck chair that had thick maroon pads, dragged it toward the railing, sat and lifted my feet to rest the soles of my shoes on a lower rung.

That was better.

I sipped my margarita until there was nothing but ice and stayed outside, wondering if I was beginning to appear rude.

On that thought, I saw a shiny, black car that wasn’t anywhere near new but was definitely cool growling loudly up the lane. I didn’t know the make or model, but I did know, whatever it was, it was awesome.

Gear was home.

Five minutes later, Gear with his can of Coke was out on the deck with me.

I turned my head and smiled at him as he pulled a chair beside mine, sat in it and put his feet up on the same rung as mine.

“Dad says grub’ll be up in twenty,” he told me.

“Great,” I replied, my stomach roiling, suddenly not in the mood for grub because eating it meant being around Tatiana, and I still hadn’t come up with a plan.

I felt his eyes on me, so I looked at him.

“What’s with the shiner?” he asked, a grin playing at his mouth in an effort to take the nosiness out of his question.

Though the grin didn’t hide the concern in his eyes.

Really, so like his dad.

“Long story,” I answered, saying it softly so he wouldn’t feel rebuffed.

“That’s cool,” he muttered, letting it go and obviously not feeling rebuffed, which was a relief.

“Was the drive down okay?” I asked, looking for something to talk about.

“Could drive it blindfolded, done it so often.”

“Right,” I whispered.

He studied me only a moment before he announced on another grin, “You’re nervous.”

My head jerked at this straightforward comment, then I couldn’t help it, I emitted a short laugh.

“Um…yes,” I replied when I stopped laughing and I did it on a smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Totally.” He smiled back.

“Bummer,” I muttered.

“No, it’s cool that you’re nervous and all,” he stated. “But don’t get wound up about Tatie. She and Dad are tight, but she’s cool.”

Again, straightforward.

So like his dad.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“She’s not good with women,” he informed me, and his open sharing surprised me, so I couldn’t quite stop myself from staring at him. “She and Ma…” He shook his head. “They butt heads. When Dad and Mom were together, it was all good. When we first moved up to Flag, it was okay. Then something gave, and now Mom’s a total bitch to her. They’re always fightin’. Tatie hates bein’ home, she wants to live here. We both like it here better than there. Me, because I hate Ma’s old man, he’s a dick. And sometimes Ma can be not-so-great with me either. Tatie, because Ma’s in her face all the time and because she thinks Knuckles is a dick.”

“Knuckles?”

“Ma’s old man.”

“I’m sorry, that doesn’t sound good,” I noted carefully.

“It isn’t, it sucks. So when Dad told us he got himself a woman, Tatie got pissed. She wants it to be just the three of us. She likes it like that. Reckon she doesn’t want to face the possibility of a female Knuckles here while she’s dealin’ with that dick back home. But, like I said, she’s cool. She gets wound up, like Ma, but in the end, that isn’t really her. It’s just what Ma and Knuckles make her, or maybe it’s that plus teenage girl stuff. Whatever. She’ll come around.”

“That’s what your dad says.”

He grinned. “That’s ’cause that’s the way it is.”

I studied him. His face was expressive. He was honest and straightforward, and it was clear he was a good kid

Maybe he could help me out.

“Do you…” I hesitated, “have any advice?”

His brows went up. “On dealin’ with Tat?”

I nodded.

He grinned big. “Just don’t be a bitch to her.”

I smiled back. “I think I can do that.”

His grin faded and he leaned into me to share, “She doesn’t have a lot of friends, Clara. She does here, the girls here like her, but the girls at home…” He shook his head again. “No. Don’t get that, she can be sweet when she’s not wound up. I think it’s ’cause girls, well…girls can be bitches. They’re jealous ’cause, she’s my sister and all, but there’s no denyin’ she’s hot.”

I nodded again. “Yes, Gear, your sister is definitely very pretty, and you’re right, girls can be mean, especially to girls who are pretty.”

He nodded back and went on, “So she’s got a ma who’s up in her face all the time, and the girls at school treat her like garbage. Fuck with her head, play with her. It’s freakin’ whacked. I try to shield her from it, but I can’t be everywhere all the time. No matter how hard I try to be that for her.”

Trying to protect his sister.

Truly…

So like his father.

“And girls,” he continued, “they don’t let much deter them when they’re set on bein’ bitches.”

“No,” I agreed ruefully. “They don’t.”

“So, you know, I reckon, a woman’s nice to her, eventually that’d break through.”

I was a little surprised at the F-bomb dropping so easily from the lips of a seventeen-year-old, like it was nothing which was how his father used that word.

But I didn’t mention that.

I’d ask Minnie about it later.

Though I suspected this was part of the biker life, what with them having a rulebook only with a couple of lines. I doubted they wasted one of them on teaching your children not to curse.

But my take from all of that was good and even hopeful.

Because I could be nice to Tatie.

And maybe, if I found a way in, I could be a woman in her life that she liked and trusted.

“Well, I can be nice,” I told Gear.

“Then I reckon you’ll break through.”

I smiled at him again. “Sounds like a plan.”

He smiled back.

I decided to change the subject. “Your car is very cool.”

His smile grew huge. “Yeah, freakin’ awesome. Chevy Nova, 1972. Classic. Dad and I worked on it for a year. It was a wreck. We worked on it out back, in his old barn.”

I had seen this “old barn.” I’d also wondered at its uses, since Buck, and now Gear, parked in the wide area by the side of the house where the steps up to the deck and front door were.