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Noah was adjusting well to third grade in Tonopah. He was making friends and played with the kids on our street until well after six every night. I’d get home and start dinner minutes before he got off the bus. We would talk about his day and then he would take a bath, cuddled next to my side until it was time for bed. I was proud of my son and thankful his nightmares seemed to be decreasing in frequency. The thumb sucking had almost disappeared too, replaced with a plush baby Yoda in his arms.
Despite the positive changes in Noah, I still kept doubting I’d made the right choice. I knew leaving Chet was the smartest thing I’d ever done but moving so far away and starting over was more stress and anxiety than I expected. At work, I tried to make new friends but all of the questions and curiosity about our arrival in Tonopah were too much. I didn’t have a good story to tell and making up lies grew complicated. The dentist office was mostly busy and thankfully I had too much work to do filing charts and answering calls as a receptionist to engage in a lot of conversation.
As a result, I was feeling low and trying to hide it. I thought I’d done a good job until I heard Noah’s voice one evening after he’d gone to bed. I was on the couch, crying into my mug of hot tea and feeling sorry for myself.
“Mama? What’s the matter?”
Dropping the mug on the table, I swiped under my eyes and caught him standing in the doorway of his room as he clutched his toy to his chest. The look of concern on his face made my heart nearly stutter.
“Nothing, Booga,” I assured him. “I’m alright. I promise.”
“But you were cryin’.”
“I was feeling a bit sad but I’m much better now that I know you’re watching out for me.”
Noah puffed out his chest with pride. “That’s my job. I’m the man of the house.”
“You sure are. I’m so happy I have you.”
He beamed a bright smile and then yawned. “I’ll always have you just like you always have me.”
“That’s right.” I placed a kiss on top of his head and then shooed him back into bed. “You’ve got school in the morning. Time to get some sleep.”
“Night, Mama.”
“Goodnight. Love you.” I pulled his door nearly shut but left it a few inches from closing the way he preferred. A green glow could be seen from the Mandalorian nightlight in his room.
The rest of the evening I tidied the house and then finally went upstairs for a hot bath. That was when I decided that I needed to let the past go because I didn’t want Noah to find me in tears again anytime soon. I knew it upset him and he didn’t need to worry about me on top of everything else.
When Sunday rolled around, I realized I’d forgotten a few things at the store and made a list, heading outside to find Noah. He was jumping on the trampoline next door with two little boys about the same age. I paused at the gate to the backyard and waved.
“I need to go to the store.”
Noah slid off the trampoline and landed on his feet, runnin
g up to the fence. “Can I stay here? I really want to play with Thomas and Riley.”
My first instinct was to tell him no, but I knew it wasn’t fair. He just wanted to be a kid and I had to give him the chance even if it caused my stomach to churn with worry.
“You need to ask permission from Mr. and Mrs. Hill.”
Noah saluted – where he got that I had no idea – and then ran back to Thomas and Riley. Five minutes later I was pulling out of my driveway after Mrs. Hill (Tonya) assured me that she didn’t mind, and the boys would stay at the house until I returned. I exchanged numbers and told her to call for any reason. Nothing was too trivial when it concerned Noah.
The minute I pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store I knew it was a mistake. There wasn’t an empty space anywhere near the store. I had to park in the back by a huge motorcycle with a skull and crown sparkling on the tank. The bike was all chrome and sleek ebony, and I shivered, curious what kind of man could handle a machine that massive.
There wasn’t a cart or a basket in sight when I entered the building and I had to wonder if I missed the memo on something important. Was there a nuclear fallout coming? Because the shelves were bare in many aisles or half stocked and people were snatching up items faster than I could move my way through the crowd. When one of the employees lifted their hands and said the incoming storm wasn’t going to keep them from their shipment due to arrive tomorrow and restock the shelves, people seemed a little more relaxed.
All of this over a chance of rain or snow?
Snorting with humor, I ignored the chaos and tried to find the rest of my list. As it turned out, I located what I needed and an abandoned cart. I was all the way outside before I realized I’d forgotten the ice cream I promised Noah. Sighing, I headed back inside and paused by the alcohol section, double checking the list to make sure I hadn’t missed anything else.
I rounded the corner a little too fast, my focus on the paper in my hand and not where I was walking. My body collided with a wall of solid muscle and I tumbled backward, surprised when a pair of strong arms shot out and prevented a nasty fall. Blinking, I stared up at the man who caught me and vaguely realized how he was clutching my body close against his own. He was all hard lines and thick muscle. My body decided that moment it wanted to come alive and heat up, enjoying the way I was pressed to this total stranger and extremely sexy older man.
My fingers twitched on my right hand and I suddenly wanted to slide them through the rough and coarse hair of his beard. Dark brown and yet peppered heavily with solid white. The lines around his eyes were crinkled as if he was humored but the intensity of his gaze was so sharp and filled with raw attraction that reality smacked me right in the face.
I shoved away from his body as I took in his appearance. Thick, muscled shoulders and arms corded with veins. Hair with a perfect mixture of salt and pepper but leaned heavily on the salt. Seductive smile. Sensual mouth beneath the moustache. Multiple tattoos that disappeared under his shirt sleeves and traveled all the way to his knuckles.
The leather vest was the last thing I noticed along with the patches that read PAPA and ROYAL BASTARDS MC. I knew what a motorcycle club was. I watched a few seasons of Sons of Anarchy. No, I wasn’t delusional enough to think that show was reality, but I was smart enough to know this man was trouble. A distraction I didn’t need even if the sight of him made my mouth water.
