Chapter 6
The sun was unrelenting as Esmerelda stepped outside.
Her white shorts were cuffed tightly around her thighs, and she was sticky with sweat only minutes after leaving the comfort of the clubhouse. She wasn’t quite sure what she was in search of, but she figured staying inside alone all day wouldn't help her find out any sooner.
“You’re lookin’ better today,” She heard.
Green was watching her from the garage office. She blushed at his honest words.
“Thank you.”
He was smiling, so Esme didn't think he was too angry with her for her outburst the day before, but she still felt a sting of remorse at her own behavior as she neared him.
“I’m sorry I was so rude yesterday.”
Green’s eyes widened, as if he hadn't expected her to apologize.
“It’s okay, we understand.”
"Don't go making excuses for me, darlin'. I've been in a bad way for a long while, but I still like to think I know when I've done something wrong."
Green smiled and lifted an arm, motioning for her to step underneath it.
"Come give me a hug, and we'll forget all about it."
Esmeralda found herself laughing as she moved to hug him; it wasn't exactly easy being that he was as big as a tree.
"That's right, let Green make it all better…"
His words were followed by him wrapping both arms around her and nearly sweeping her right off of her feet.
Esme lifted her head from his chest and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Are you always this touchy-feely?”
“Only with the pretty girls,” He said with a wink as he set her down gently.
She scoffed and looked down at herself.
“Pretty?”
He slowly nodded.
“You sure are,” He said as he planted his hands on his hips.
Esmeralda felt something shift inside of her, then; some broken piece of her that she’d been able to ignore for a long, long time.
He thinks I’m pretty.
For some reason, the truth of his statement had her grinning from ear to ear.
“Thank you, Killian,” She said.
As she turned towards the garage, she heard him call out to her, “It’s Green!”
Yet, when she glanced over her tanned shoulder at him, he was smiling instead of frowning.
He thinks I’m pretty.
Truth be told Esmeralda hadn’t thought much about her appearance over the past six months. She was lucky if she remembered to brush her own hair, let alone worry about being pretty.
Still feels nice to hear it, though.
So nice, in fact, that she was distracted as she neared the garage and she accidentally walked right into a solid wall of chest.
Her hands went up instantly to keep herself from falling backwards, and as she clutched a handful of t-shirt between her fingers, she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.
Her smile fell instantly as she opened her mouth to apologize. Esmerelda’s blue eyes met familiar green ones, and suddenly she had no idea what she wanted to say.
He was watching her intensely, that stupid bandana covering the bottom half of his face-
Why does he wear that?
Esmeralda didn't take much time to notice such things anymore, but from the looks of it, the man was hiding a gorgeous face beneath the bandana. For just a moment she wanted to touch it, to see beneath it, to remove it…
“Did I hurt you?”
His words surprised her, but no more so than the fact that she was still gripping his shirt as if the black material could keep her grounded.
She hurriedly pried her fingers away from his chest, but his arms took a little longer to move. As he released her, Esmeralda moved to take a small step backwards.
“You didn't hurt me,” She whispered.
He nodded.
“Good.”
“What’s your name?,” She asked.
“Prettyboy,” He said gruffly.
Again, Esme found herself smiling.
“Really?”
His green eyes went blank in a second; almost like a flick of a switch, his entire demeanor changed as he stiffened his shoulders and nodded curtly.
“Yeah. I know I don’t look like much.”
Esmerelda’s eyes widened.
Doesn’t look like much?
Her gaze wandered, of course it did- after that comment, how could she not take a better look at him?
His long hair was cut into an undercut, leaving long locks falling into his bright green eyes. His eyes were surrounded by thick lashes that any girl would envy- she certainly did- and although she couldn't see the lower half of his face, she was willing to bet it was perfect.
His tanned skin was covered in tattoos and he definitely worked out.
His black t-shirt was emblazoned with the club logo and stretched across his wide chest, and his black jeans were snug in just the right places…
I shouldn't be noticing any of these things.
I shouldn't even want to…
“You look just fine to me, Prettyboy.”
The traitors words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and damn if they didn't make her flinch in shame.
Those intense eyes landed on her for one split second before he left her standing there wondering what she’d done wrong.
“Don’t mind him, baby. He’s been a sourpuss since his accident,” Slayer said off-handedly.
When Esmeralda turned to look at him she noticed he was standing beside another blonde man who was watching her curiously.
“Accident?”
The second man sighed and pushed his sandy blonde hair out of his face.
“Yeah, Prettyboy was in an accident last year. Burned him up real bad,” He told her.
She stepped forward and lifted her hand towards him.
“I’m Esmeralda,” She said softly.
“I know who you are. Name’s Rider,” He said casually as he gripped her hand.
“He was in an accident? Is that why he wears the bandana?,” She wondered aloud.
“That among other things,” Esme heard.
She winced and tuned to see Rayna standing behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.
“You don’t have to defend him to me, Rayna. I was only curious. I didn't know,” Esme said.
Rayna’s expression softened slightly.
“Why not ask him?”
“Well, he walked away before I could. I’m still wondering what I said to make him mad,” Esme said truthfully.
“If you spoke to him the way you spoke to me yesterday, I’d walk away from you too.”
Esmeralda winced, but she knew that she deserved that.
She stepped closer to Rayna and held out her hand again.
“You’re right about that. I was wrong to get angry with you for just trying to be nice to me. When people mention Chris I tend to go nuclear. I’d like to start over, if you’ll allow it.”
Rayna looked at her outstretched hand for a second before she spoke.
“Axel told you what I did to the Blazin’ Eagles?”
Esme nodded.
“And you still got in my face? Even though you knew I’d killed grown men two times your size?”
Esmeralda smiled.
“I told you the truth yesterday, Rayna Claire. Nothing can hurt me now. Not even you.”
Slowly, Rayna began to smile, too.
Rayna snatched her hand up and tugged her into a hug, her skinny arms squeezing Esmeralda tightly.
“I’ve gotta respect the hell out of that,” She admitted.
“Women are fuckin’ weird,” Slayer muttered from behind them.
Esme glanced at him before Rayna motioned towards the clubhouse.
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him he looked just fine to me,” She said.
Rayna’s smile widened.
“And does he?”
Suddenly, Esmerelda didn't feel like she should be talking about that, with anyone.
“I shouldn’t be talking about this,” She said so only Rayna could hear her.
Rayna frowned and placed a hand on Esme’s back.
“What? Why?”
Esmeralda’s eyes closed as she shook her head.
“I’m a married woman.”
Rayna didn't say anything until Esme opened her eyes, and when she finally did make eye contact, Rayna’s eyes were misty.
“You can’t hold onto his memory forever, baby. Chris wouldn't want that,” She said sadly.
Esmeralda knew that.
She fucking knew it, and she wished it was just as easy for her heart to understand.
She didn't wear a ring and she didn't have his brand, but he was still her husband.
Chris Wilder was still, at least in her head, her old man.
“I feel guilty,” Esmeralda admitted.
Rayna pulled her into her side and walked her back towards the clubhouse.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
“I don’t want to bring you down. You’re planning a wedding, and I don't want to taint the experience for you,” Esmeralda said as she motioned towards the tables with the tulle and invitations.
Rayna scoffed and pulled her down into a chair beside her at the first small round table they saw. It
had a pile of invitations on it, all with her and Fury’s information, yet all designed differently.
She lifted one into her hands and admired the sleek cursive font.
“This one is really lovely,” She said softly.
Rayna’s hand landed on top of hers, and Esmeralda paused.
“I don’t know what it’s like to lose my old man, but I did lose my father. He was killed right in front of me, and trust me when I tell you, I understand.”
Esmeralda huffed out a breath.
Maybe Rayna could help her move on. Maybe she could help Esme find some happiness of her own.
“What do I do now?,” She asked.
Rayna sat back in her chair, taking the invitation with her.
Esmeralda watched her slap it against her bare thigh a couple of times before she shrugged.
“I could use some help planning this wedding. The boys try, but they don’t know the difference between ivory and eggshell.”
Esmeralda’s heart stalled in her chest…
Can I do that?
Could she help Rayna Claire plan her wedding, so soon after hers almost literally went up in smoke?
Trepidation practically knocked her on the back of the head as she turned to look at Rayna before she said, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
And she wasn't even lying.
Yet, even as her eyes met Rayna’s, she could have sworn she saw the shadow of her long lost husband in a darkened corner of the room, smiling in her direction.