Buck didn’t speak.

Both Hardy men were unhappy.

“Maybe I’ll go to bed,” I suggested, not knowing what else to do.

“’Night,” Gear replied.

Buck just stared at me.

Hmm.

I didn’t think that was good.

“Goodnight,” I whispered and moved from the kitchen.

I went to Buck’s room, changed into a nightie and got into his bed.

He didn’t join me for a while, though I heard Gear go upstairs, and I didn’t find sleep.

Finally, I heard Buck moving around the house, and what I heard was him carrying his daughter to bed.

After that, he was in his room. Rustling noises commenced as he took off his clothes and then the bed moved when he joined me. But once there, he settled and didn’t curl into me or curl me into him.

Oh dear.

“You’re mad at me,” I whispered into the dark.

“Nope, mad at Tatie. Knew she’d make a play for my attention, thinkin’ she had to battle you for it, even though, during our conversation before she went out, I took pains to share with her that was not the case. Didn’t think my girl would make such a stupid play. Thought I taught her better.”

“She’s only sixteen, Buck.”

“No age is too early to get smart, Clara.”

He was right about that.

I stared into the dark.

Eventually I sucked in a breath.

And using it, I said, “You know, earlier, I saw you two through the window. She said something to make you laugh and leaned into you. Most girls who have that, what she has with you, they don’t know it’s precious. Gear told me she doesn’t get on with her mom or that Knuckles guy, so I figure, she has it rough at home, she knows what she has with you is precious. I never had that.”

I paused when I felt something strange that was coming from him fill the room, then I continued.

“So, I know, like Tatiana knows, that’s precious. She’s sixteen. She sees me as a threat. You might not get it, but I do. If I had something like that, I’d do anything to keep it. Anything to hold my dad’s attention, even if I had to make him mad at me to do it. She’s not old enough to know how to play it smart, West. But if things are bad at home, she’s desperate enough to do whatever she has to do. I get that too.”

I stopped talking and Buck didn’t move.

I closed my eyes tight.

And he moved, curling his big body into mine, his arm around my waist, pulling me into his heat.

I felt his face in the back of my hair, and finally, I relaxed.

When I did, I heard him whisper, “Thanks for takin’ care of my girl, baby.”

I pressed my lips together and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“You’re welcome,” I whispered back.

He gave me a squeeze. “Go to sleep, darlin’.”

“Okay, Buck.”

He pulled me deeper into him and then his body settled into mine.

Faster than I would have expected after the day I’d had—getting into it with Minnie, Biker Babe Rituals, seeing Buck with Nails, meeting the kids, Tatiana hating me—I fell asleep.

If I wasn’t unconscious, and could think on it, this would not have come as a surprise.

And as such, thinking on it later, it was no surprise when it came to me why that happened.

It was because I was in Buck’s bed, in the curve of his arm, against the warmth of his body.

I was beginning to suspect (and fear) that the world could be ending, and I’d fall asleep against Buck like that.

And that was entirely the problem.

Because with West “Buck” Hardy, as good as I could get was beginning to feel like the best I ever had.

And whenever something like that happened, you held on for dear life.

The thing I didn’t think about or I’d never sleep again, was one of the many things I’d learned.

That in my life…

The best I ever had never lasted.

14

Moody

The next morning, I woke up pressed against Buck’s side, my cheek to his shoulder.

The sun was shining, unmuted, through the windows.

The house was quiet, and I knew by Buck’s steady breathing that he was still asleep.

I always woke before him and this was likely because he stayed up late, and I didn’t.

I carefully slid away so as not to disturb him and walked to the hall bathroom.

The towels were on the floor, so I folded them and put them on the counter. Then I grabbed my facewash and went back to Buck’s bathroom. I did my morning bathroom thing and grabbed my robe off the hook on the back of the door.

My robe was short, lilac and a light, soft, knit cotton-flannel. It had once been not-so-light, but I’d owned it for so long and worn and washed it so much (at one point, post-Rogan-debacle, I’d worn it for days), it was now thinner, but more comfortable and soft as a baby’s skin.

I shrugged this on over my little pink nightie and tied the belt. Then I went to the kitchen, made coffee, toasted Pop-Tarts, and once the coffee was done, I took it and my breakfast out to the deck.

I set my mug on the railing and sat down, eating my tarts, leaning forward to grab my mug and take a sip when I needed it, my gaze to the view and the calming sound of a not very rapidly flowing creek serenading me.

All you could see, left, right and center, was tranquility.

It was just trees, and a creek, and the gravel lane that led up to Buck’s house.

But there were also hummingbirds. And squirrels dashing about.

I wondered one day if I’d see deer.

Yesterday, I’d discovered that the roads leading up to his place had houses like Buck’s, tucked in the trees.

Still, whoever planned the lots and built the homes did it for maximum solitude. They were there but you had to search to find them, a hint of roof, the sun gleaming off a window, a chimney.

If you didn’t make that effort, you could feel comfortably alone.

Once done with my tarts, I took the plate inside, put it in the dishwasher, refreshed my mug, went back out and settled again in my chair.

The minute I rested my feet on the railing, Minnie’s words hit my brain.

And he chooses you, Clara. If he decides to make you his old lady and do that official, he’ll always come back to you. And that’s something. I promise you, babe. Not blowing sunshine up your ass. Especially with a man like Buck, that’s definitely something.

She would know. She knew him better than me.

Then I thought of how Ink was with Lorie, how Cruise greeted Pinky and held her close, and all the many ways that Buck could be gentle, sweet, funny and protective.

From what they said, Lorie and Pinky put up with what they had to put up with to get what they got from their men.

And what they got, I noticed, was good.

Other men, I knew, were not so good.

Like my adoptive father, who left my clearly mentally ill mother to try it alone…and fail. And he never came back, not even when the child he’d assumed responsibility for had no one else to turn to.

Then there was Rogan.

Also Esposito.

I stared at a view I knew, down deep in my heart, I would never fail to find beauty in, to gain peace from.

I did this knowing I was right to go the way of the biker babe.