But for the first time I wonder if I’ll need extra bedrooms.
It took me a long time to accept my disability and my new way of moving through life. But once I did, I was determined not to let it slow me down. I’ve adapted a motorbike, I’ve pushed myself at the gym, I’ve been on every charity run with the club since I got patched. I’ve got a good life here.
A single life.
Until a few weeks ago, I was fine with that. I’d resigned myself to living a bachelor life, because what woman would want me? And I hadn’t met a woman that sparked my interest anyway.
A few times Arlo dragged me out to the White Out club or the rougher Wild Times bar in Wild which has no ramp, so I have to wear my prosthetics and be uncomfortable all night. But all I see is pity in the eyes of the women who bother to talk to me.
Arlo says I should use that, that some women are willing to do anything to thank returning servicemen. But I don’t want to be anyone’s pity fuck, and I don’t need thanks for serving. It was my duty to serve this country, and I didn’t do it to pick up women.
But here’s the truth. I don’t know if I can be with a woman. My dick still works, and it’s been hard a hell of a lot since Isla walked into the clubhouse.
But the thought of being intimate with a woman makes me nervous. How can I be naked, how can I show my mangled stumps of legs without turning a woman off?
I couldn’t handle seeing the horror in a woman’s eyes when the reality of what I hide under my specially tailored slacks is exposed.
Better the single life for me.
I crumple up the piece of paper with my crude design for my cabin. I won’t be needing those extra rooms. An accessible kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and gym. That’s all this single man needs.
It’s later in the day, and I’ve been working out in the repair shop. I like to come in during my lunch break to check on Isla and Cody. As I come in the back door, I hear women’s laughter from the office. It sounds like Isla; I’ve heard her laugh a couple of times but never as carefree as this.
My chair catches on the doorframe as I go through the almost too narrow doorway, and I graze my knuckles. Ignoring the pain I wheel to the office, wondering what she’s finding so funny.
Isla sits in an office chair with a laptop open on the desk in front of her. Bit Rate leans over her furiously clicking the keys. Their heads are almost touching.
My stomach tightens as jealousy courses through me.
“What are you doing?” I grit out.
Isla startles at my abrupt tone, and her hand flies to her chest. “Luke, you scared me.”
I turn my scowl to Bit Rate. He should know better than to be in here flirting with Isla. He’s just confessed his love to his nanny. He should be at home with her and not here hanging over Isla.
He raises his eyebrows at me, looking amused.
“I’m getting Isla’s laptop set up.” His amused look turns to a grin, and I get the feeling he can see right through me. He holds his hands up in the air and steps away from her. “You okay with that? Or does it need to go on the schedule?”
He’s teasing me, but I can’t stop the thundering of myheart. Isla looks between us with a frown on her face, and the last thing I want to do is upset her. She told me she had a job helping Barrels with marketing and Bit Rate does the club IT, so it seems legit.
“What schedule?” Isla asks.
Bit Rate’s grin widens, and he’s enjoying this. “Didn’t Luke tell you? He organized a schedule to make sure there was always someone on hand to look after Cody.”
Isla turns to me. “That was you?”
I look away. It’s too painful to see the appreciation in her eyes. If I was any other man, she might throw her arms around me and I’d sweep her off her feet. But I’ll never be that man.
“Of course it was him,” says Bit Rate. “He’s the one who asked Barrels about the job too.”
I cut Bit Rate a look, because I didn’t want Isla to know I’ve done this all for her. She might feel weird about it.
But when I glance at her, there are tears in her eyes. “Luke,” she whispers, “that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“It’s nothing,” I mumble. I want to say I’d do it for anyone, but I don’t know if that’s true.
I’m saved from the awkward situation by the sounds of Cody crying somewhere down the hall. Isla pushes her chair back. “It’s time for his next feed.”
