“You’re more beautiful today than the day I met you,” he told me seriously. “And I’m lucky as fuck that you put up with my shit.”
“You really are,” I answered with a nod, making him smile.
“We’re almost forty years old, baby. This is the last one, all right? I’m happy as hell that you’re giving me another. I love our kids—best thing we’ve ever done—but I don’t want you putting that strain on your body anymore.”
“Okay, handsome.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.” I leaned forward and kissed him, running my tongue over his lips before pulling back. “But if you don’t fuck me in the next few minutes, we’re not gonna have time before people start showing up.”
“Fuck ’em,” he growled, wrapping his hands into my hair.
He stood up, pushing me with him, and kissed me hard. His beard was rough against my skin and I reveled in the feeling, knowing that within a few days it would be long enough to feel soft again and the sensation would change.
Over the years, I’d felt his face against my skin a million different ways. Long beard, short beard, five o’clock shadow, or clean shaven, I’d never had a favorite. His aunt Lily had told me something before she died, and I’d never forgotten it. She’d said, “Handsome comes and goes, but if a man’s face is dear to you no matter how wrinkled he gets? Well, that’s worth keeping.” And Cody’s face was dear to me.
“Elbows on the bed, Ladybug,” Cody murmured into my mouth before spinning me away from him. I loved the way his hand pressed at the center of my back as I bent over the bed, and though we’d done this dance thousands of times before, it still surprised me when he dropped to his knees behind me.
“Love the way you taste when you’re pregnant.” He groaned into my skin, running his tongue from front to back. “You’re always fucking ready for me.”
I was moaning quietly into the bed when I heard a knock on the door and my head snapped up in panic.
“Shhh.” Cody climbed to his feet behind me with one hand to my back so I couldn’t move. My heart started racing as the door handle jiggled, and less than a second later Cody was slamming into me.
“Dad’s takin’ a shower, Lilybug, leave ’em alone,” Cameron called down the hallway.
“Where’s Mom? People are starting to show up!”
“She’s probably helping him—”
“Gross!”
Their voices faded away as they left the hallway, and I dropped my head in a huff. “I almost had a heart attack.”
“I locked the door, Ladybug,” Cody said in exasperation. “I always lock the fucking door, ’cause you always forget to lock the fucking door.”
He began to slide in and out slowly, and I turned my head to look at him. “One time!”
“Cameron’s probably scarred for life.”
“Shut up.” My breath caught as he pulled out and slammed back in, the sound of our bodies moving together filling the room.
Casper
My house was filled with people, and I knew Farrah loved it, but fuck if I didn’t want them all to leave.
She was tired as hell and trying to hide it, but the mask she’d worn all those years ago was pretty much nonexistent anymore. The confidence she’d faked for so long had somehow become real years ago, and I think our kids had a lot to do with it. When you were going to parent-teacher conferences at twenty-one years old and trying to keep your adopted son out of juvie, you tended to grow a thick skin.
I glanced over to where Cameron was following Dragon’s daughter Trix into the house, and grinned. That was what the fucker got for trying to stop me from talking to his boy earlier about my daughter. Asshole.
“Trix, you don’t stop walking away from me. I’m gonna paddle your ass!”
“Fuck off, Cam!”
Ah, to be young and fucking clueless again. I had a feeling those two were going to fuck things up pretty bad before they got their shit together. I probably needed to talk to Cam before Dragon killed him.
Brenna and Dragon had done a good job with that one. Trix had just graduated with a degree in business or some shit like that, and had already found some cushy job in Portland, which was probably why she and Cam were fighting. I didn’t understand how we kept making these girls who were fucking princesses, all with a good head on their shoulders and a backbone of steel, yet all our boys seemed to be little assholes who couldn’t keep it in their pants. It was probably a good thing Brenna and Dragon had stopped having kids after Leo; I couldn’t deal with another one of their boys going after Lily in a few years.
“You need another beer, handsome?” Farrah asked with a tilt of her head.
Goddamn, the woman got more beautiful every time I looked at her. I shook my head as she sauntered toward me, and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips. She wasn’t trying to walk that way, but I was pretty sure she was sore as hell after the way I’d pounded her earlier. I’d probably have to be a little more careful in the near future.
I pulled her onto my lap as she reached me, and laid my hand on her head as she pressed her face into my neck. Poor baby.
“You just sit here with me, Ladybug,” I ordered her, kissing her face. “Dinner’s over, people are relaxing, nothing more for you to do.”
“I think it went good, don’t you?” she asked sleepily, her body already relaxing into mine.
I looked around the yard filled with people.
Dragon and Grease were bullshitting by the horseshoe pits Cameron had begged me to build after we’d moved in. I hated them because all I could see every time I looked at them was one of my little girls impaling themselves on one of the posts.
My sister was yelling at the group of kids that had just come running around the corner of the house, their faces red with guilt.
Vera and Gram were sitting at the picnic table in the grass with Poet and Slider, our youngest, Lily, on Slider’s knee. I wasn’t surprised she was sitting with her grandpa instead of running around with the rest of the hellions. The girl was born a watcher; she preferred to stay on the sidelines instead of being in the thick of things, exactly the opposite of her sister.
Where the fuck was Cecilia?
I looked around the yard and finally found her standing with Leo and Brenna under one of the trees that peppered the property.
“Three feet!” I bellowed, startling Farrah, who must have already fallen asleep on my lap.
The yard grew quiet as I stared at Cecilia until she finally turned to look at me in exasperation.
“We’re standing here with his mother!” she yelled back.
I almost laughed when I saw how hard it was for her to keep her cool.
“I don’t give a good goddamn if you’re standing there with the pope! Back the fuck up!” I snarled. That little prick better move before I put my boot in his ass.
She threw her hands up and took an exaggerated step back before turning her face back toward Leo.
Fuck.
Farrah giggled into my throat, and my chest grew warm. “You embarrassed her.”
“Don’t care.”
Everyone was still glancing our way in amusement, waiting to see what I’d do. Shit. Like they hadn’t done the same exact thing when their daughters started dating. I knew for a fact that Poet had knocked the shit out of Dragon when he found out Dragon had knocked up Brenna.
Speaking of knocked up . . .
“Got an announcement!” I yelled, feeling Farrah’s body tense against me. She still hated being the center of attention. “Farrah’s pregnant!” I raised the beer bottle in my hand in a toast, and then finished it off in one go.
“Crazy fucker!”
“Congratulations!”
“Whoa.”
“Seriously?”
“You just couldn’t hold it in, could you?” Farrah whispered, kissing the side of my neck.
I leaned down to kiss her but stopped, my eyes growing wide as Cameron called out quietly from the back door, “Trix i
s too.”
My head snapped toward where Dragon had been standing, but he was already stomping toward the house with Brenna close behind, trying to catch him.
Oh shit.
Table of Contents
Dedicaton
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Dedication
To my Gram,
who shared her paperback copies of the Aces with all of her friends at the Senior Center. Thanks for being so proud of me—the feeling was mutual, gorgeous.
And to the friend who spells her name wrong.
I know it was hard to read.
I know you hated it sometimes.
I also know it wouldn’t have become what it is without your help.
This one is for you.
Prologue
Amy
I wasn’t nervous as I rolled through the open gate, though I did hope that I’d followed the right directions and an axe murderer wasn’t waiting for me at the end of the lane. My new Prius was so ridiculously quiet that I could hear every crunch of gravel under the tires. I could even hear the crickets chirping out in the trees to my left—though that was likely made possible by my four rolled down windows. I hated driving with the windows rolled up this time of year. Everything in Oregon smelled so fresh in the spring with new flowers blooming and the hint of rain almost always in the air. It was so different from where I’d lived for the past twenty-odd years that I couldn’t get enough of it.
The road forked like he’d said it did, and at the end on the left sat the big building I was searching for. I took a deep breath of relief when I saw the line of bikes backed up against it. Clearly, I was in the right place. Patrick had given me pretty vague directions when we’d spoken a couple months before, but I don’t think he’d imagined me ever actually coming to his clubhouse—especially without speaking to him first.
His number had burned a hole in my metaphorical pocket for months, but I’d refused to call him. I wanted to get my life situated before I dealt with his shit, and I didn’t think that was in any way unreasonable. Unfortunately, he’d disagreed.
I hadn’t called him, but the man had been relentless, calling and texting me for months. After numerous texts that I had no hope of deciphering, I’d finally realized that his thumbs must have been too big for the tiny keyboard. Add to that the assistance of autocorrect and what I received were messages that appeared to be composed by a five-year-old, which was ridiculous considering how well read he was. It took less than a week for the messages to change from wondering how I was doing to bitching that I hadn’t contacted him. The only reason I’d even known that much was because he hadn’t been satisfied with texts; all phone calls had also been followed up with livid voicemails.
Like he had a right to expect anything from me.
I shook my head as I climbed out of my car and flipped my heavy silver hair over my shoulder. I’d pulled half of it back in a thick, loose ponytail near the base of my neck, and for a second, I wished I’d brought a larger rubber band so I could pull it all up and make it less conspicuous. A bandana wouldn’t have gone amiss, either.
God, what was I thinking?
I’d worked hard to be where I was, and I’d been comfortable in my own skin for a long fucking time. I wasn’t about to become self-conscious about something as stupid as my looks. I was strong, capable, and smart—those were the things that mattered. Besides, I looked damn good for a woman who was over forty years old. Yoga had kept me slim and good genes and clean living had kept my skin tight and my boobs perky. I wasn’t going to cower, goddammit. I didn’t cower for anyone.
There was an open door to the right of some large garage bays that were closed for the night, and I made my way there with my shoulders pulled back and my chin held high. I knew I should have been afraid of walking into a room of bikers I didn’t know, but I wasn’t.
I wasn’t really afraid of anything. I think that might be what happens when you live through something you never imagined you’d survive. Everything else seems trivial in comparison.
The place was loud, with men in leather vests peppered around the room and half-naked young women of various shapes, sizes and ethnicities sitting on laps and preening for anyone who was looking. Good Lord, it was like a frat house with old men. I’m pretty sure I saw a movie like that once…
Focus.
“Amy, you look beautiful, as always,” a gravelly voice murmured behind me, making me spin around.
“Charlie.” I smiled huge as I took in his face, so much older than I remembered. “You don’t look surprised to see me.”
“Not surprised to see you, sure as shit surprised at what you’re wearin.’ ” He answered with a grin, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Knew he saw ya a few months back, but he didn’t say a word about the get-up. When’d you become a fuckin’ tree hugger?”
“Probably about the time you became president.”
“Fuck, that long? Please tell me you still shave your shit.” He leaned in to lift my arm to check for armpit hair and I couldn’t help the loud, barking laugh that burst out of my mouth.
“Don’t be a dick.”
“Ah, still taking care of it I see.” He winked, squeezing my arm gently. “I remember Poet going on and on about how you shaved your pussy way back when.”
“Shut the fuck up!” God, I couldn’t believe that he could still embarrass me with a few carefully chosen words.
“Who the hell…” A new voice came from the side and I took a deep breath as I turned to take the speaker in. She was wearing a Harley tank top and blinged-out jeans and I would have known her anywhere. “Holy shit. Amy?”
“Hey, Vera.” I felt my throat get tight as her face broke into a huge grin.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Damn, you look good!” She smelled like vanilla perfume and cigarettes as she wrapped her skinny arms around me, and I couldn’t help but hug her tight. I’d missed these two. Maybe if things had been different… no, I wouldn’t think about that.
“Look at your hair!” she said, leaning back to run her fingers over my head. “Goddamn, it’s gorgeous. You here to see Poet?”
“Poet? That’s the name he uses?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
“Road name. Someone else picked it.”
“Right.” I nodded. “Yeah, where is he?”
“I’ll get him.” Charlie said quickly with a small smile.
“Slider,” Vera warned.
“Slider?” I snorted. “I don’t even wanna know where that c
ame from. No worries, just show me where he is. I don’t give a rat’s ass what he’s doing. I just need to talk to him real quick.”
Char—Slider ran his hand over his slicked-back hair, and gave me a cautious nod before placing his hand between my shoulder blades to lead me through the room.
“You come see me before you leave!” Vera called out as we left her behind.
“Yup!”
He led me through a doorway and down a hallway that ran the length of the building, stopping a few rooms down, where I could hear someone giggling through the door.
“Poet, open up, brother!” Slider called out as I slid between him and the doorframe and pushed my way into the room before he could stop me.
Patrick must not have heard us, because he was on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a small grin on his face as a woman in only a G-string told some kind of story complete with animated hand gestures. She was young, I could see that much, and she had a generic tribal tramp stamp on her lower back that he was tracing with the fingers of one hand.
Aw, how cute.
“‘I missed ye’ he said,” I commented loudly in a thick accent, walking into the room as his head snapped up. “How’d I live so long without ye? Come home with me. Yer beautiful.”
I sat down at the edge of the bed and sighed dramatically. “All lies.”
“Who the fuck are you?” she asked, eyes wide, while Slider laughed, making no move to leave the doorway.
“Jesus Christ!” Poet hissed, pushing the girl off his lap.
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love ye, lass.” My voice dropped into his accent again, my tone growing more serious.
I shook my head slowly as I stood, finally raising my eyes to his and swallowing hard, letting him see exactly how I felt about the situation we were in. His jaw went tight and his eyes grew sad as he watched me, a thousand words unsaid between us.
When Slider realized the show was no longer a funny one and left the doorway, I allowed my gaze to travel over the woman eyeing me in annoyance, her long, red-tipped fingers barely covering her fake breasts. I wanted to stare right back and scoff at her gravity defying breasts and tiny hips, but I didn’t let my eyes stray from hers.
I’d shoved my way into the room, interrupting a private moment, and she had no reason to be embarrassed. I refused to make her even more uncomfortable. She seemed nice enough while she was making Patrick smile, and even though a part of me hated it, she hadn’t done anything to deserve disrespect from me.