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Maybe I couldn’t be with him right now, but I could show Ryder that Isawhim. His kindness. His gentleness. The love he had for his brothers. His desire to build something for himself and something for his club.
I might not be able to give him me, no matter how much I wanted to, but I could give him that. And then, maybe one day, one day soon, I could give him more.
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Ryder
Jenna’s cheek pressed against Ryder’s back did as much for his cock as the heat of her core tight against his ass.
He clenched his jaw, and leaned into a turn while he fought against the pain that tried to rip his heart from his chest.
Giving her space was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He knew the risk. She might finish her job and be done with the club. She might get her fill of Talon and be done with bikers.
She might take her time, heal her heart, and come back.
Ryder knew what it looked like for a woman to be tied to a man she didn’t want. Especially when life with that man continually brought her face to face with the man shedidwant. And after watching his dad suffer that pain every time he looked at his mom, that wasn’t something Ryder wanted for himself, and it sure as hell wasn’t something he wanted for Jenna.
His mom was the daughter of a very white Southern preacher. His dad was a red skinned construction worker. And he had lived his life caught in the middle.
He thought she’d loved his dad once, when they were young, and she’d been starry eyed with how exotic he was.
But she hadn’t thought about the stigma or the racial slurs. Until it was too late. And she met the construction company owner’s son. Wealthy. White. Society. And she’d longed for a different life than she had with them.
Ryder watched grief over a life she couldn’t have kill both his parents.
And even though this hurt, he knew it didn’t hurt like he’d hurt if he ever saw Jenna look at him the way his mom had looked at his dad. With disappointment that she hadn’t made a different choice.
So when Ryder rolled his bike to a stop in front of Jenna’s townhouse, he didn’t get off.
He held out a hand to her, helped her down, and waited for her to settle her helmet into the saddlebag.
Then she stood on her front walk, all the emotion she felt swimming in her eyes. She didn’t let go of his hand, but lifted it to her lips and kissed it.
He felt that spread through his chest and settle in his gut. Sweet and sad at the same time.
“I’m going to make you proud of me,” she said over the rumble of his Harley.
“I already am,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips.
“My heart hurts,” she whispered, and if he hadn’t been looking straight at her, he would have missed it.
“Mine too,” he mouthed back.
She nodded once and sniffed, and then she turned, dark ponytail swaying and headed into her house.
Ryder watched the door close and then pulled away, wondering if he’d ever have a ride like that again.
Chapter Fifteen
What Gives, Chica?
Talon
Talon rolled his Harley down Abercorn, the massive oaks lining both sides casting mid-morning shadows across the street.
Weathersbee was a fickle buyer. Too much money, not enough sense, but when something struck his fancy, he paid, and he paid big.
Talon turned into the drive of the antebellum mansion and rounded to the carriage house in the back. He found Weathersbee lingering over breakfast on the back patio by the pool.
