Chapter 20

There’s want, and then there’s need. Two very different emotions. One is a short-lived desire, and the other is a permanent passion. You’re the latter on both counts. Forever and always.

-Text from Mig to Annie

Annie

He can’t protect you forever. I proved that today. I could’ve shot you, and he would’ve gotten back in time to watch you bleed to death.

I read the note for a second time, then a third, as I tried to control my pounding heart.

I wasn’t dead.

He hadn’t killed me.

Mig had been there.

Had scared him off.

I was okay!

I shoved the note back into my purse when I heard Mig’s steps on the front walk.

He’d gone to check in with Jennifer since we’d be leaving soon.

And I assumed he was letting her know so she didn’t worry, or whatever, since we were leaving before her.

Needless to say, Jennifer and I would never be friends

I resented her too much.

I hated the way she treated Mig.

Hated the way she whined about her pitiful life.

Hated how she pulled the pregnancy card to get exactly what she wanted.

And to be honest, these two weeks that were almost over couldn’t end fast enough.

“Hey,” I said to Mig once he opened the door. “How’d she take it?”

Mig grimaced. “Bad. She doesn’t like Alison.”

I laughed.

Alison was one of the easiest people in the world to get along with.

“And I’m going to have Casten bring her up. She won’t be staying with you or my mom, but she’ll be in the guest house with her own maid. It’ll be like she’s not even there,” he said.

He’d told me of this possibility, and I was fine with it.

I didn’t want Jennifer too far away from Mig.

I knew that their baby would be born at any second, and I didn’t want Mig to miss a thing.

“Alright then, I’m ready when you are,” I said, holding my bag out to him.

He took it.

“Can Casten bring that one up with him when he comes?” He asked.

I nodded. “Make sure he doesn’t forget Katy. She’d be mad at you.”

Katy looked up at me from her perch on the couch.

Katy was like a cat in a lot of ways.

She didn’t like anybody but me, and she only tolerated Mig.

She hated to get wet, didn’t like getting dirty and preferred not to lay on the floor.

She liked to be left alone, and it was very rare that she would seek attention.

She’d just now gotten to the point where she didn’t get up and leave when Mig was in the room.

If it were any other person, you wouldn’t see her at all.

I couldn’t wait to see how she reacted to Casten bringing her in a car over three hundred miles.

It would be fun times, indeed!

Mig rolled his eyes. “He’s already got the ‘Hoe cleaned out for Katy’s cage and all her numerous belongings.”

He looked pointedly at the doggie pillow.

“What?” I asked in affront.

“I’ve never in my life seen a dog need a pillow for less than a week of vacation. What’s wrong with bringing her food dishes, food, and leash?” Mig asked.

I snorted. “You’ve obviously never owned a pet before. You have to give them what they want to make them comfortable since they’ll be in a new place.”

He blinked. “It’s a dog, not a child.”

I shrugged. “Same thing to me.”

I vaguely heard him mutter something close sounding to ‘not the same thing at all’ but chose not to acknowledge it.

I followed behind him as he led me out to his bike.

“And he’s going to bring my other suitcase, right?” I asked.

Mig nodded but didn’t turn around.

“And what about the car seat and the baby bag—just in case?” I continued.

It wouldn’t do to not be prepared.

I’d done all the hard parts: unpacking everything from the bags, washing all the clothes, and getting the diaper bag stocked with the essentials according to my mom’s instructions.

I was ready to roll, so to speak.

Now all we needed was the baby.

I felt like I was looking in from the outside, though.

Once he or she was here, what would I do?

Would he ask me to help? Would he ask me to leave and give him some time?

He’d made an off the wall comment about asking his mother to come help when the baby arrived, but he hasn’t said another word about it.

Now I was left wondering.

And I hated being in the dark.

“Can we stop by my parent’s place before we go? I want to pick up something she made for me,” I said.

My mother had called saying she’d had a dream about me last night, and that she’d made me some cookies because she couldn’t sleep after waking up from her nightmare.

So, being the good daughter that I was, I’d go reassure her and take my cookies…because who would pass up fresh-baked cookies from their mom?

“Your parents live close to your sister, right?” He asked as he turned around, leaning against the bike.

He looked so sexy.

The morning rays of sunshine were filtering through a large, white, fluffy cloud that was passing in front of the sun.

Him leaning against his bike, wearing his Uncertain Saints MC cut, dark washed jeans and black boots, in the soft morning sunlight gave him an almost sleepy, sexy glow. It made him look like the sexiest man alive.

I had to resist the urge to lick my lips.

“Yeah, they’re about two minutes from Tasha,” I confirmed.

He nodded, holding out his hand for me.

“Your dad going to be home?” He asked once I placed my hand in his.

I shrugged. “Maybe…maybe not. He does a lot of fishing now that he’s retired. And it’s a pretty nice day out today. I highly doubt that he would. My mom will be though.”

He grinned.

“Moms like me,” he teased.

I had no doubt that they did.

My mom was a woman after all, and although she was a married woman, she wasn’t blind and could certainly appreciate the sight of a hot guy just as well as a single woman.

“What woman doesn’t like you?” I asked.

He took the only bag that he’d allowed me to carry with us and shoved it unceremoniously into one of the huge saddle bags that had showed up on his bike this morning.

I had to laugh when he barely got it to close.

He shot me a disgruntled look.

And I pretended to zip my mouth shut and throw away the key.

“Funny, but I don’t believe for a second that you’ll really zip it,” he grumbled.

Mig was in a weird mood.

It upset him every time he looked at me and saw my mouth swollen from my fall.

He was also upset that his ex-wife called him four times—four times— during the night because she was ‘scared,’ even though she knew that Casten was right there in the next room.

He looked tired, even with his sunglasses on.

“Well, let’s go then,” he said, straddling the bike.

I mounted behind him, making the comment that he needed to scooch his booty forward so I could sit comfortably behind him.

“There’s a seat back there,” he said.

I looped my arms around his belly and leaned my head against his back once I had my helmet on, then nodded.

“I know. But I like clinging to you like a monkey,” I teased.

He didn’t say anything to that, and I was wondering if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

But then he started the bike, I saw a smile on his face as he turned to check behind him before pulling out of the driveway.

I waved at Jennifer, who was on the front porch watching us.

She scowled at me, and I clung to Mig tighter, thankful that it was not me watching from the front porch this time.

The ride to my mother’s was quick, and I was surprised to see my mom and sister on the front porch, drinking a cup of coffee.

I dismounted before Mig could, then tugged my helmet off as I hurried up the sidewalk.

“Those are my cookies!” I yelled at my betraying sister.

My sister smiled and took another bite of the cookie.

I snatched it away, shoving it in my mouth as I ran inside.

Tasha was quick on my heels, and I knew she’d catch up to me any moment.

She had longer legs than I did, so I had to resort to drastic measures.

Which was why I slammed the door in her face, then locked it.

She pounded on the door for long seconds before it abruptly stopped.

I hurried to the garage door and locked it, too.

Tasha showed up once I threw the dead bolt.

Her eyes narrowed, and I grinned.

She looked over to the window that was open on the opposite side of the room, and I took off at the same time she did.

She only had to run around the house.

I had to run down a hallway, scoot around the bar, and then go down another hallway to get to the open window.

It was a weird set up, and I blamed my parents for buying such a stupid house.

Knowing when to throw in the towel, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed my plate of cookies, laughing when I heard my sister curse as she fell to her hands and knees on the opposite side of the house.

I walked calmly through the family room and then walked back outside with my plate of cookies in one hand and a bottle of Fanta in the other.

My dad drank Fanta.

It wasn’t my favorite, but it was what they had.

So I took it.

I gracefully took the seat that my sister had been previously occupying.

I saw my sister’s coffee and helped myself to a large gulp before shoving half a cookie in my mouth.

Then, for good measure, I licked every single one of the seven cookies on the plate, making sure to leave a generous amount of spit on them, before I took another gulp of coffee.

Only then did I look up to see my sister, mother and Mig watching me like I was crazy.

“What?” I asked.

Mig’s lips twitched before giving in to the first smile I’d seen on his face today.

“That’s just disgusting,” Tasha grumbled, sitting down on the steps next to where Mig was standing.

“Mom, did you meet Mig?” I asked around a mouthful of cookie.

My mother nodded.

“Yes, I did,” she said.

My mother was all of five feet tall and curvy.

Today, she looked like she hadn’t bothered to finish getting dressed.

Her hair was still up in the bun that she normally slept in every night.

She was still wearing her nightgown, along with a robe, and her favorite pair of house slippers.

“Why aren’t you dressed? It’s nearly ten in the morning,” I asked.

My mother shrugged.

“I was going to go take a nap since your father will be gone fishing all day. You said you weren’t sure if you would be able to make it before you left, so I didn’t see any reason to get dressed,” she said. “Then your sister came over to tell me you fell and banged up your face. So, here I am wondering why my daughter did not tell me what happened to her when I was on the phone telling her about a nightmare I had about her getting hurt?”

“Oops,” I said, shoving a cookie into my mouth. “And how does Tasha know anyway? I didn’t tell her.”

Tasha smiled deviously. “I have a new friend.”

I raised a brow at her.

“Who?” I asked.

She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture of Casten.

My mouth dropped open.

“No!” I said loudly. “You can’t have him, he’s mine.”

Tasha narrowed her eyes.

“You have Mig; you can’t have Casten, too,” she said stubbornly.

“But he belongs to Mig! You’ll ruin him, and Mig will lose his best friend!” I said.

I wasn’t exactly sure if that was true, but it sounded good.

Tasha did have a way of burning people out, though.

She was fun and flirty, but she was also flighty and definitely the love ‘em and leave ‘em type.

It really wasn’t because she wanted to break innocent men’s hearts but because she seriously couldn’t help it.

She had no control over how awesome she was, and Tasha got bored easily.

If you couldn’t constantly keep her entertained, which was damn near impossible, she’d just go find something—or someone—else to entertain her.

Which explained why she was currently in nursing school.

She didn’t really want to be a nurse, she just needed the challenge.

And Casten was probably giving her exactly what she wanted: a challenge.

“Did he call you?” I asked curiously.

Tasha shook her head. “No. I texted him like I do every night. That’s the only way I get information about you.”

That was true.

I tried to protect my family from the drama was going on around me. They didn’t need to be worried about me, too.

“Casten’s not going to get hurt,” Mig said drolly. “He’s a big boy.”

I wanted to laugh.

Mig had no idea.

Well, at least it would be fun to watch.

“These are really good cookies, mom. Thank you for making them,” I said, taking another bite of cookie.

They were chocolate chip, made with big chocolate chunks instead of chips.

“You’re welcome, mi hija,” my mother said. “Don’t think that you’re off the hook, though.”

Uh-oh.

If my Puerto Rican mommy was using Spanish, she was upset.

When we were little, my father had wanted to teach us Spanish, since it was their primary language, but my mother had been adamantly opposed to it.

‘We’re in America. We speak English.’

My father still spoke Spanish whenever the hell he felt like it, but he didn’t push the issue with my mother.

I never quite figured out what exactly the trigger was that caused her to revert back to Spanish. Usually, it was when she was extremely stressed, but that wasn’t the only time she did it.

I just knew that if mom was speaking Spanish, she was pissed, worried, excited or a crazy combination of those feelings.

Therefore, I did what I did best.

I ran away.

“Gotta go, mom!” I said, hopping to my feet. “Mig and I have a lot of miles to put in before we get to Alabama.”

Mig, sensing there was something amiss, held his hand out to my mother.

“It was nice to meet you, and I’ll take you up on that dinner next week,” he said, shaking the hand my mother offered him.

Dinner was a family affair.

Always.

So for my mother to invite Mig, without knowing him for more than five minutes, was huge.

Plus, it also didn’t hurt that my mother knew I had a crush on my next-door neighbor.

She’d also been there the day I saw Mig ride into town on his Harley.

She never forgets a face, and her mind was like steel trap.

She never forgot anything she was told.

And clearly she had not forgotten my drunken confession about why I wanted to divorce Ross.

I want a man like Mig. A man that makes my heart pound. A man that would protect me with his life. Who won’t ever let me go. And if I say I want him to, he’ll fight for me.

And, what I said to her still held true today.

Hopefully I had that, because I don’t think I could let Mig go now even if I tried.