the cheek. "Let me clean up here and we'll go."
"Oh, and Crunch?" I asked.
"Yeah, man."
"Try not to look like a biker," I said. "Dress like a civilian."
Crunch laughed. "I'll try to look like an accountant."
My dad and I walked out along the edge of the property, following the fence line in the opposite direction from June's house. The meadow rolled out for acres, the grass fallen in haphazard piles where we'd cut it earlier this morning, before dawn. I tried to take it all in as we walked, imprint it on my brain so I could revisit it later, the way I'd always done with this place. This place had always been my solace.
The hills swelled up on the edges of the property all around us, the same hills I'd ride out on as a kid, for days at a time, where I'd just disappear to live off the land. Back then, I'd felt free. But that was before what happened with June's sister. Before June's parents died. Before June moved away and everything changed.
Joining the Marines was some kind of misguided attempt at penance. That hadn't worked out so well.
I walked slowly, my leisurely pace not consistent at all with the nervousness I felt about this time alone with my dad. We hadn't had a conversation about the details of what I was doing here yet, and I knew it was coming.
My dad was silent for a while as we walked, leaning over to inspect the fence posts, first one, then another. He grunted, but said nothing. It threw me right back into feeling like a kid again, watching him, waiting to see if what I'd done passed muster.
I don't know why I still cared what my dad thought, especially about something like this. It was fixing a fence, for chrissakes. Why I wanted his approval was beyond me. Especially since I didn't have it anywhere else in my life. At this point, what the hell difference did a fence make?
He bent over, turning toward me after examining the fourth post. "You boys did a nice job with this fence," he said.
"I still remember something you taught me."
He was silent, considering what I said. "Not everything."
Fuck. Here we go, I thought. "What, dad?" I turned to face him. "I can see you're itching to say something. Why don't you go ahead and say it?"
"Alright," he said. "You, this motorcycle club? What are you protecting that family from? What are you involved in?"
I sighed. "It's complicated, dad."
"Not from where I stand. From where I stand it's pretty simple."
"For you it is."
"It should be just as clear to you," he said. "Right is right, and wrong is wrong, Cade. And you, this motorcycle gang, it's not right."
"What do you know about it, dad?" I asked. But I knew he was right, didn't I? This shit with Mad Dog had just confirmed it. "Have you ever tried to understand it?"
"I don't need to understand it," he said. "You've joined a gang, a bunch of criminals."
"That's not what it's about." I could feel my heart rate increasing, the blood pumping in my ears. I was just being argumentative.
"Why don't you tell me what it's about, then? You tell me how you justify doing the things you've been doing."
"It's about having a family, dad. It's a brotherhood." It sounded lame, even to my ears. That's what it had been about, at first. Until it wasn't anymore. Until it was about greed, betrayal. Darkness.
"Because your family here, that wasn't good enough?"
"You're upset because I left West Bend? Because I left you and mom and went out on my own?"
"Of course not. Don't be an idiot."
"Then what is it?" I asked. "Because I didn't come back here and run the ranch? Or is it that I just didn't live up to your expectations?"
"No, you didn't live up to my expectations," he said. "We were proud of you, your mother and I. You had a purpose, an honorable job in the Marines. Now, you come home, dragging a family with you, running from God knows what, nothing good - and nothing legal, I'm sure - looking like hell, covered in tattoos, reeking of booze." He paused, drawing a long breath. "Hell, Cade, I'd say, you haven't lived up to your own expectations."
There it was. The disappointment I'd been waiting for. "Honorable?" I laughed bitterly. "What exactly do you think I did in the Marines, Pop? That's what I don't fucking get. How do you think what I do now is all that different from what I did before?"
"You know there's a difference, Cade. I may not know what you're doing now, but I know it's not legal."
"Legal," I said, practically spitting out the word. "Legal? That's all that matters?"
"No, it's not, son," he said. "You used to have more honor than this, Cade."
"Honor," I said. "You want to know what I do now? Who I am? I provide protection for the club. You want to know why Crunch is here? Because I was ordered to kill him. And when the club finds out I didn't, they're going to come after us, and try to kill us." My dad was silent, and I could feel myself gathering momentum, losing control of what I was saying.
"You think that's terrible, that I've somehow changed into someone else, someone I wasn't before. You want to pretend I was some kind of hero Marine, just because I got a fucking award. Do you understand what my job was in the Marines? I was a sniper, dad. My job, the one you think was about having principles, being a hero - I took people out. It's the same thing I've done for the club."
I paused, only to catch my breath, watching my dad's expression. He was stony-faced, staring at me. "You want to pretend there's some kind of good guy underneath this, some kind of hero that'll just come out if I get away from the MC? There's nothing, dad. There never was. You think I'm doing something different, that the MC has changed me. It's just a different fucking uniform I'm wearing. Only this one isn't the one you're proud of showing to your friends. But it's the same damn thing."
He was silent for a moment, then looked at me, his eyes narrowed. "It's not the same thing, Cade. I don't think that, not for a goddamned minute. And I don’t think you believe it, either."
June
"Hey Connie C.," I called as I walked through the front door. The bell chimed, and the air conditioning blew against my face as I stepped into the grocery store.
"Hey, honey." Connie looked up from where she stood, stocking produce. "How are things going at the house?"
"It's good. I just needed a couple things, and then I'll be back to organizing. I have to do all the yard work, add some fresh paint, that kind of thing."
"Well, you should get Mr. Austin to help you with all that," she said.
"I'll be sure to ask him." I'd ask Stan, but not Cade, that was for sure. Not after he came over that first night he was back. Thinking he could get drunk and wander over, sweet talk his way into my pants? As if all it would take was him looking at me like that. I mean, sure Cade was still hot. That look he'd given me was enough to make me wet. But he was obviously not the kind of guy I needed to get involved with.
Not if I wanted to stop making bad choices in the romance department. Cade had bad choice written all over him.
I browsed the refrigerated section, not sure what exactly I was looking for. I had no real reason for coming to the store; I was just a little stir crazy at home. Truth be told, it was harder than I thought it would be, going from a big city, back here to what was the exact opposite of that. It was quiet in the house, too quiet. I told myself it would be different when I actually started to have guests stay. Then the house would be filled with noise and I'd be dreaming of these quiet days.
I heard the bell on the door chime as someone else walked inside, and I picked up a loaf of bread, too distracted by what I was doing to pay attention to who it was until he was right beside me.
"Well, as I live and breathe," he said. "June Barton. Is that you?"
I looked up. "Holy crap," I said. "Jed?"
A big grin spread across his face. "I'd heard you were coming back to town. I was wondering when I'd run into you."
"I haven't been here that long at all," I said. "Just moved in. But look at you - are you a sheriff now?"
"I
am," he said. "Got me a badge and everything." He grinned again, the same goofy smile he'd always had. "You look good, June."
My cheeks felt warm under his gaze. Jed had definitely aged well, which was no surprise. He had always been good looking, in that All-American California surfer kind of way. In high school, he'd really had the whole grunge thing down pat, going for a Kurt Cobain look.
"Look at you, though," I said. "No long hair and flannel shirts anymore? You're all proper."
"Yeah, they kind of frown on long hair in the uniform, you know. It's too bad. I think I could rock the hair I used to have." He winked.
I laughed. "I don't even want to think about some of the hairstyles I went through back in junior high and high school."
"I don't know," he said. "You always looked good to me."
Is he flirting with me?
He'd always been a bit of a flirt, even when we were back in high school. And I know he had a crush on me back then, but I was with Cade and Jed was a year younger than me, which in high school years was everything.
But there was no denying he was looking good now - trim, fit, the sleeves of his uniform stretched around the muscles in his arms. And with a buzz cut instead of his shaggy long hair, he had a military look.
That was exactly what I didn't need. I didn't need another hot guy from my past. And I certainly didn't need one who looked like a military officer, not when I was trying to get away from reminders of the military.
Jed cleared his throat. "So, you bought Mrs. Crawford's old place, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm going to try to run a little bed and breakfast."
"That'll be nice." He moved forward as a customer tried to squeeze past in the aisle, and suddenly we were standing closer together.
"Yeah," I said. I was acutely aware of the distance between us, or the lack of distance anyway.
"You should have coffee with me," he said. The way he said it wasn't a suggestion. Was I being ordered to coffee? I had the immediate impulse to say no. Of course, here was a hot guy from the past asking me to coffee - a nice, normal guy. The exact opposite of Cade.
I should say yes.
"Okay," I said.
He smiled. "Tomorrow."
I nodded.
"Where are the toys?" The pitter patter of little footsteps broke my focus on Jed, and I looked up to see Cade's friends, the ones I'd met the other day at Stan's place, standing a few feet away. I stepped back from Jed, suddenly feeling guilty, like I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't be doing.
I mentally chastised myself for feeling that way. There was no reason to feel like that. It's not like I was dating Cade.
"Are you a cop?" MacKenzie asked. "My dad says cops are pigs. Are you a pig?"
"Come here, Mac," Crunch said, scooping her up in his arms. "She's just turned four." He laughed. "Kids say such crazy things, right?"
"No, daddy," MacKenzie protested, as Crunch started to walk away with her. "You said. And pigs make oink sounds. Will he make a sound for us?"
I heard Crunch "shush" MacKenzie.
"Sorry about that," April said. "I don't know where she gets that stuff sometimes."
"That's quite alright," Jed said. "It's not the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I'm Sheriff Easton." He held out his hand and April took it.
"April," she said.
"And you two know each other?" Jed asked.
"Yes," I said. My heart was racing, but I'm not sure whether I was more nervous that I'd been caught by April and Crunch, standing there with Jed, or that I wasn't sure how to explain them to Jed. Cade hadn't given me an explanation, but I knew their presence here wasn't something Jed needed to be aware of. Before April could answer, I said, "April and the family are relatives of Mr. Austin, cousins or something, I think."
April nodded. "We're here visiting for a few days."
"Well, nice to meet you. I'll leave you to what you're doing." He turned to me. "Coffee. Tomorrow. Nina's."
"Yes." I watched him leave, before I turned to April. It felt like my cheeks were on fire. Why did I feel so guilty, being caught making a date with Jed? Or whatever it was. It was just coffee, nothing more.
"Hi, April," I said, willing my cheeks to cool.
"Hey, June," she said. "Shopping?"
"Yeah, had to get - what the hell was I getting? Cheese." I laughed. "I was just getting out of the house, actually."
April's eyes widened. "Me too. It's beautiful here, don't get me wrong. But I was feeling a little cooped up. I was glad when Stan sent us into town to pick up a few things for dinner. Oh, why don't you come by? I'm sure he would want you to."
Did I want to go to dinner at Cade's house? That was definitely a no.
“Hey!” MacKenzie bounded down the aisle again, wrapping her arms around April’s leg. “Daddy said we can get ice cream because I was good!”
April looked down at her. “Yes, we can get ice cream. Go look at the freezer right there. You can pick whatever one you want.”
“Yay!” She skipped toward the ice cream freezer.
“I’ll let you finish, so I can run after Mac,” April said. “But you’ll come for dinner, right?”
“Um. Sure?” I wasn’t sure.
“Good.” She looked away. “No, Mac, don’t open that freezer! I said you could have one. Not more than that! Ok, see you later, June!”
I paid and drove home, preoccupied the entire time with thoughts of Cade.
And now, Jed. He was an unexpected surprise. A good one?
I should have told April I didn't have time for dinner. I should have made something up. I didn't want to see Cade.
I could still make an excuse. I went back and forth in my mind, should I or shouldn't I, even while showering and afterward, as I was pulling on clothes and applying makeup. While I blow-dried my hair, I thought, I'll just call over and tell them I won't go. No, I can't do that. I don't have Stan's phone number.
Or was that just my excuse?
Then, while I was putting on makeup, I chastised myself. You don't need to fix yourself up for Cade. He's the last person you need to impress. All the same, I applied lipstick and a fresh coat of gloss, then appraised myself in the mirror.
Good jeans, check.
Cute shirt, the purple top that hugged my boobs, check.
Hair, check.
Makeup, check.
Casual, don’t care attitude about Cade? That wasn’t exactly a check.
“Hey, June.” April stood in the doorway, dressed in a tank top and jeans, an apron wrapped around her waist. Her hair spilled out of a ponytail, and she wore a handkerchief wrapped around her head. She looked like a fifties housewife - if a fifties housewife had full sleeve tattoos running up her arms and across her chest. "Hey, come in," she said. "I'm so glad you're here. Do you know how to cook?"
"A little bit," I said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just trying to make a couple of side dishes Stan asked me to do. But I'm worthless in the kitchen."
"I can help. Where is everyone?"
"Stan took Mac down to the creek for a little bit. She wanted to see the water, and it's a nice break from her, to be honest." She laughed. "Crunch is in the other room, doing something with the computer, I don't know what. All that tech stuff, it's over my head."
And Cade? I nearly asked. No, I didn't care where Cade was. I'd