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Ryker
Ryker stopped at his apartment and grabbed a few things for the next couple of days. He figured that if they had a tail, it would throw them off a bit. Ryker just hoped that Ace would be able to pay off Billows, sooner than later, and convince him not to come for Harlow. She looked around his little place as if studying every detail of it. It actually felt strange having her there. He really didn’t bring women back to his place—it just felt too personal. Plus, if they didn’t know where he lived, they wouldn’t be able to hunt him down for a second date, because he just didn’t do second dates.
“You’re kind of a minimalist, aren’t you?” she asked.
He shrugged, tossing his duffle bag over his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d call it,” he said. “I just don’t have a lot of shit. Makes things easier to move on when I’m ready.”
“Do you move around a lot?” she asked.
“I used to when I was younger. I haven’t really done a lot of moving around since becoming the leader of the Bandits. They’re my brothers, and I can’t just pick up and leave them now, can I? After I realized that, I bought my sofa over there,” he said, nodding to the corner of the family room. It was the first piece of furniture that he had bought for himself, and he was pretty damn proud of it. Judging from the cringe on Harlow’s face, she didn’t feel the same love for his sofa as he did.
“Um, it’s great,” she lied, causing him to laugh. “As for moving around and leaving your club, I guess you can’t really do that,” Harlow said. “I’ve never really had a lot of friends,” she admitted. “I was kind of a loner in high school, only really hanging out with Craig and a few of his buddies. When I got pregnant so young, I was kind of shunned by other girls my age. They all went to college and had lives and I was changing diapers and feeding a newborn all night.”
“Do you ever regret it?” he asked.
“Never,” she breathed. “Honestly, I regret marrying Craig. I didn’t believe that I could do it on my own—be a single mom. But I think I would have been so much better off if I had turned down his proposal.”
“You never really talk about him. Is he still in Iris’ life?” Ryker asked.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t like to talk about him at all. He’s in prison now, so he isn’t a part of either of our lives.”
“What did he do?” Ryker asked.
She forced a yawn and Ryker almost laughed at how fake it seemed. “I’m really tired. Do you mind if I try to sleep for the rest of the ride home?” He could push, but he was sure that it would get him nowhere with her.
“Sure,” he agreed. “Suit yourself, honey.” She reclined her seat back and turned her face against the seat, protecting her left side from him as she usually did with her long hair. Sooner or later, he’d get her to tell him her story—all of it, but for now, he wouldn’t push.
* * *
It was one in the morning by the time they got back to Harlow’s house. After she refused to answer any more questions about her ex, she gave him her address and told him to wake her when they were home.
Her home was just as he expected—a perfect little house that even had a front porch with a swing and a white picket fence. It was sweet, just like the woman sitting next to him. What he didn’t expect was the woman standing on the porch with the shotgun. Yeah, that was an unexpected surprise.
“Um, honey,” Ryker said. “I think you should wake up now.”
Harlow stirred and looked up at him, giving him her sleepy smile. If they were alone, he’d find the whole thing adorable. Hell, he’d want to pull her underneath his body and fuck her until she woke up, but the woman on the porch with the shotgun had him feeling differently.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“We’re back at your home and the woman on the porch with the shotgun doesn’t look very happy to see us. You sure that you gave me the right address?” he asked. Harlow quickly sat up and looked around, sighing at the woman standing on her front porch.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “That’s just my mama.”
“Jesus, honey,” he said. “Does your mama usually greet people with a shotgun at the front door?”
“Only when it’s past midnight and she wasn’t expecting anyone. Sorry, I forgot to text her to tell her that we were coming back to my house. Let me go talk to her and smooth things over before I introduce you.” Ryker wanted to tell her that he was good with going unannounced, but he was sure that it wouldn’t sit well with Harlow. She looked just about as determined as the woman with the gun pointed at his truck.
“Mama,” Harlow shouted, getting out of his pick-up, “can you please put down the gun?” she asked. The older woman lowered the shotgun and shook her head at her daughter as she walked up to the porch. Ryker lowered his window to hear their conversation, but all he could pick up was muffled whispers between the two women. Harlow pointed back to him a few times and her mama shook her head at her as if trying to tell her that she was disappointed in her. After what felt like an eternity, it looked as though Harlow won the heated debate because she motioned for him to join them on the porch. It wasn’t a good idea; he was sure of that just from the look that the older woman gave him when he stepped out of the truck.
“I’m just trying to figure out how mad I am at you, Harlow. You told me that you were going to be out for most of the night. How was I to know that you were going to show up here with some random man?” her mother asked. Ryker stifled his laugh and they both shot him a look.
“Ryker is my boss, Mama. He’s not some random man. Ryker, this is my mother, Gloria Jean.” Ryker held out his hand to the older woman and she sighed and put her shotgun down on the rocking chair. She took his hand and shook it, pulling hers free just as soon as it wasn’t rude to do so.
“Nice to meet you, Ma’am,” Ryker said. It was a lot nicer to meet her when she wasn’t pointing a gun at him.
“You should have texted me,” Gloria Jean said, looking back at her daughter.
“Sorry, Mama,” Harlow said. Ryker could see where his feisty new waitress got her fire from. “What are you doing over here at my house anyway?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be back at your place with Iris?”
