“Think it’s time for you to leave,” Buck rumbled.

He’d come close and was situating himself between Nolan and me.

Nolan didn’t take his eyes off me. “If you don’t go to see him, I’ll advise him to change his beneficiary and alter his will.”

“Knock yourself out,” I invited, leaning around Buck. “And while you’re advising, do me the favor of sharing with Rogan that he can shove that six and a half million dollars straight up his ass.”

There were some chuckles and some indrawn breaths.

Buck made not a noise but shifted so he was almost dead in front of me.

I shifted so I could see Nolan.

“Same old Clara,” Nolan muttered, eyes squinty and angry on me. “Everything that man did, he did for you.”

Now that, that took it too far.

Without hesitation, I launched myself at him, and Buck turned swiftly and caught me around the waist, holding me back as I pressed toward Nolan.

“Babe,” he said softly.

“You have got to be joking!” I screamed at Nolan.

“You came from nothing and Rogan wanted you to have everything,” Nolan retorted. “Throughout this, all he ever did, he did looking out for you. He gave you a beautiful life, a beautiful home, a beautiful car and put himself on the line to give it to you, and you never said thanks once. You just divorced him when he needed you the most. And after you turned your back on him, he still did everything he could to look out for you.”

“Let me educate you, Nolan, and feel free to share this with Rogan,” I shot back, still straining against Buck, though mostly at that point, I was doing it so I could see around him and keep eye contact with Nolan. “The way Rogan could have looked out for me was to not commit multiple criminal acts. And I’ll throw in, he might have reconsidered before he paid for sex with multiple prostitutes!”

“Gash,” Buck gritted. “Get that fuckin’ guy outta here before she explodes.”

There was movement in the room, but I was still entirely focused on Nolan.

“You need to arrange to see him,” Nolan persevered.

“Dude, you need to let it go and move on,” Gash, who was now close to Nolan, advised.

Nolan twisted his neck to scowl at Gash. “You touch me, you’ll buy yourself problems.”

“Do I look like I care?” Gash returned.

Nolan turned back to me.

Buck glanced over his shoulder to Nolan but kept a handle on me. “You got three seconds to get the fuck outta here, and you gotta know, I count fast.”

Nolan glared at Buck then he looked at me. “Call me when you’re ready to arrange the visit. I think you can find my number.”

“Three,” Buck bit.

Gash moved, and Nolan was shuffled right out the front door with Gash’s hands bunching his suit jacket.

“Out,” Buck went on, and the bevy of bikers and employees sifted through the door.

Raul was the last one out, and he closed the door behind him. The whole time he was doing this, his gaze was on me.

“Babe,” Buck called, and I looked from the door to him, my eyes hitting his brown ones, my flesh feeling his strong fingers pressed into my waist, my nose smelling his scent, fresh-cut wood (he was on a job, working on cabinets in the warehouse), my senses feeling the power of him enveloping me.

And I disintegrated.

Buck pulled me with him as he swiveled the office chair around, sat in it, taking me down on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and shoved my wet face against his neck as the sobs wracked my body.

He gave me a squeeze.

“Darlin’, you need to go see him.”

I froze.

Then my head listed up, and I stared at him through watery eyes.

“Sorry?” I whispered.

“This upsets you, baby. He fucked you over, but you’re fuckin’ undone. This means he still means somethin’ to you. You gotta go see him. You don’t, you’ll regret it.”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me.” I was still whispering, and Buck gave me another squeeze while he leaned forward and kissed my nose.

When he pulled back, he said gently, “Toots, I get you’re mine, so you don’t have to lie to me about this.”

“I’m not lying.”

He moved a hand to my jaw, his thumb sweeping through the wetness on my cheek. Then he slid that wetness across my lower lip.

“Taste that, Toots. You know what that taste is. So do I. And, baby, you don’t need to lie to me. No matter what it is, you never need to lie to me.”

“He babied me when I was sick,” I whispered, and Buck’s body got tight under mine. “Even if it was a sniffle, he acted like I was an invalid. Bought the whole drugstore, waited on me hand and foot.”

“Toots—”

“I used to collect spa products. Face masks. Shampoo. Conditioner. Pumice scrub. Exfoliant. I used to spend hours in the bathroom relaxing and primping. He told me I didn’t need that stuff. I didn’t need to spend that time, that nothing could make me more beautiful than I already was.”

“Clara, I get it. I don’t wanna hear—”

“We met young. He dazzled me. Then he wound me up. Wound me up in him. Except for Tia, he was my whole world.”

“Baby,” Buck pressed his thumb to my mouth, “quiet.”

I wasn’t quiet.

I pulled away from his thumb and kept talking.

“But the only thing he gave me, really, was an education on what love was not. To this day, I’m not certain what love is, but I know what it’s not. Rogan taught me that.” I wrapped my fingers around the side of his neck. “And Buck, after yearning all my life for someone to love me, just love me, that isn’t a fun lesson to learn.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Toots,” he whispered.

“I’m not crying because I have feelings for him. I’m crying because I’m so sick and so, so very tired of finding something good and feeling the world solid under my feet and having someone come in and rock it…again.” I dropped my head to his shoulder and muttered, “I’m just tired. Why can’t everyone just let me be?”

Buck slid his arms around me again and he gathered me close, but he didn’t have an answer to my question.

Likely because there wasn’t one.

“I was talking to Mrs. Jimenez. Talking about enchiladas at your house and how good you could cook. Normal stuff. Food. Friends. That’s all I want my life to be. That isn’t asking much. Why is that so hard?” I asked.

“It’ll pass, Toots.”

I shook my head then pressed my cheek to his shoulder. “I’m thirty-two, West. It hasn’t yet and I’m beginning to think it never will.”

“Babe,” he muttered.

“Six and a half million dollars,” I whispered. “He thinks that’s taking care of me.” I shook my head against his shoulder. “As Gear would say, that…is…whacked.” I sighed and proclaimed, “Happiness is Pop-Tarts. I wish he got that.”

I felt Buck’s body move against mine, and I lifted my head and looked down at him to see he was what I thought he was.

Laughing.

“What’s funny?” I asked.