It probably would’ve been a good idea to have Tate carry me to my room earlier.

Too late for that.

I try to stem the arousal that’s still pulsing through my whole body. Taking a deep breath doesn’t help. My core is reliving the sensation of Tate’s cock drilling into me, buried so deep that it felt like he was a part of me.

And we’re now stuck in this awkwardness with my mother.

Mom will see right through anything I say, so I let go of the embarrassment. I almost want to laugh. Tate is scrambling for the right words. He can’t think quickly enough to come up with even a lame excuse for what my mother is witnessing around her kitchen. But her coming home early and finding us like this, well it’s minor. I’m more concerned about her reaction when I let her know that for her safety and mine, I won’t be staying at home for the next little while. She doesn’t know how far my ex took things last night, and I don’t want to worry her.

“I have to skip out on dinner, Mom. Tate is driving me to work in a bit.”

“All right, honey.”

I want to choose my words carefully, but with my mother, I’m better off just telling her straight. “And I’ll be staying with him for a bit while we figure out things with—”

“With your crazy stalker ex-boyfriend?” she asks, finishing my sentence.

“Right. And what’s even better about it is my staying with Tate will save me some travel time while I get organized and study for my nursing exams,” I add, hoping to direct the subject to a more favourable outcome. My mother’s been a nurse for as long as I can remember. She understands how these things go and what I have ahead of me to complete the national nursing exam and also satisfy state licensing requirements to practice nursing in both Nevada and Arizona.

“You don’t have to sweeten the pot to get me to agree, love. It’s fine. Whatever Tate’s firm recommends is all right with me. If he believes that staying somewhere else will help keep that guy away from you, I’m on board.”

“Thanks for understanding,” I say, somewhat surprised but mostly relieved that she’s come to the same conclusion, or at least, accepts my decision to lay low with Tate for a while.

“You know, I told you we should’ve filed a restraining order before we moved out here. I never liked that boy.”

“You’re probably right,” I concede. My lips press tightly together, glancing over at Tate as I wait to hear the rest.

There has to be more. I doubt the woman is prepared to let either of us leave her house without a safe sex lecture, given the state of her kitchen. Tate sports a strange look of utter embarrassment. I’ve never seen him this way. Clearly, he has no clue how to win over a woman’s mother. I mentally roll my eyes, unsure why I’d expect anything more from a badass biker who hangs around old-school types. Men who like to believe casual Fridays at the office means they can screw four women at the same time, rather than dress down.

If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he feels that way too.

But I know Tate.

We’ve been more to each other than either of us cares to admit.

“And is there more that you’d like to tell your own mother?”

“About what?” I ask, feigning ignorance, but this is the other shoe dropping.

“Have you forgotten that I know you, young lady?”

I snap back into the picture as Mom covers the sides of her face with each hand now that her shopping bags are on the counter—next to the sex toys. Heat rises up my cheeks. There’s no fixing this giant kinky mess.

“I’m really sorry?” I say in a question. That’s all I come up with.

“Back to what I was saying to your friend over here, Molly. I’m not deaf, dumb, and blind, and I’m not as innocent as I look. You don’t have to pretend with me, okay? You’re an adult. Do what you want, just not on my brand new granite counters. And regarding this announcement about leaving for a few days… please promise me that you’ll be careful.”

“I will.”

“And give me a call if you’re going to be longer than a week so that I don’t worry. This place feels big and lonely without you, dear.”

“Definitely. Of course, I’ll check in.”

“I’ll leave you two to do whatever needs doing to put my kitchen back in order…after I step out of it so you can take your time, yes?”

“We will,” Tate answers and starts toward the pile of naughty gear.

I wish I knew what happened to my biker badass. My mother arches a brow, giving me a look that says everything without a word from her perfectly made-up mouth. I’m so going to hear about this over the phone later.

“Yes, Mom. We’ll take care of everything, then we’ll get out of your hair.”

“And Molly, darling?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“You can find the industrial cleaning supplies that the maids use under that counter.” With a wink, Mom heads toward the hallway and disappears around the corner.

Tate and I make quick work of tidying up the room. He’s pretty helpful, considering that most of the live-in MC sack demon groupies keep the clubhouse clean so the big boys won’t have to lift a finger most of the time. He starts to scrub the already clean sink with a sponge. I almost stop him but don’t. If he wants to leave the place spotless, including places we haven’t touched, he can have at it.

“I’m surprised you’re okay with staying at the clubhouse until we take care of your stalker problem,” Tate mentions over his shoulder while he scrubs the counter.

“I figured that would be your first suggestion. That’s why I resigned myself to roll with it.”

“Good.” His lips form a thin line. I know he doesn’t like being pegged as predictable. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Tate adjusts his cock in his pants. Poor guy. I silently promise myself I’ll fix it later.

After a few minutes, I survey the kitchen. It’s back to how we found it. “Thanks for helping me tidy up. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

He shrugs. “It’s cool. We both shocked the shit out of your mother. I don’t mind paying the price of admission.” Tucking the rags away in the bottom cupboard, he turns to me and crosses his arms. “We’ve got to leave now. Pack whatever you need. I want your pretty ass out the door ASAP.”

“Sure. I have to work tonight too.”

I don’t say more because even though Mom’s somewhere else in the house, I don’t need her finding out more. She still thinks I’m a night shift waitress when in fact, I’m not. I couldn’t exactly tell her I started moonlighting as a medic for a women’s underground boxing club, in between fighting at the very same club. The money I make for stepping into the ring is good, and medic duty allows me to polish up basic skills since finishing my nursing degree back in Louisiana.

All the practice I get working this gig is helping me prepare for the national exam. If I’m successful, I can apply for Utah, Nevada and Arizona state licenses right away. Living around here, with Las Vegas, Nevada to the southwest and St. George, Utah to the northeast, there’s no way to know where I’ll find my first real RN job. Having all three state licenses gives me the best options, so doing these underground gigs are just a means to an end, the cash to study by day so I can prepare and pay for all three. But I can only imagine the hell I’d get from my mother if she ever learns that I spend any time at all in places where women beat each other to a pulp for cash.

“No problem,” Tate agrees but won’t look straight at me. We’ve barely made eye contact since my mother came home. I can’t blame him, really, when I’ve never let them in the same room more than a handful of times. We’re supposed to be fuck buddies and nothing more.

“Give me a minute to get ready.”

“Take your time. I want to take another look around here and see what kind of video surveillance might work. Your mom’s cool with that, right?”

“I think so.”

Tate’s brows rise. He looks toward the hallway Mom took as she left. “I’m not saying that she’s in any danger, but with a guy like that, the fact that he’s willing to forcibly break into her house to see you, it’s not encouraging. She shouldn’t take any chances.”

“Sure. Mom won’t mind you poking around because she knows what’s going on. She’s the one who paid for your gig.”

“Does she know about the damage to the side door? Or that he put his hand on you?”

“Well, no. I didn’t want to stress her out.”

“So, hiding shit is a thing for you.”

“Don’t start. She’d freak out if she knew that part. Look, do whatever you think is best. You’re the expert. I’ll get these put away and pack up a few things. You can tell her the kitchen’s back to normal if you bump into her while you’re looking around.”

Snatching up the pile of sex toys, I hurry up to my bedroom. I dump everything on my bed and take a deep breath as I grab my travel bag. On top of getting caught with Tate in the kitchen, the irony of spending more time with him so I can hide out from my ex isn’t lost on me. Shaking my head, I smile and begin to fill my bag with the essentials from my closet and dresser drawer.

Someone knocks on my partially open door less than ten minutes later. As I turn, I’m surprised to see both my mother and Tate standing in the open doorway.

Great. A tag team already.

I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for whatever it is they want with me—together.

Could this get any weirder? I actually don’t want an answer to that question. I’d much prefer to leave the house and avoid any further weirdness.

“Hi. I’m almost ready,” I announce when they just stand there. “Everything all right?”

“I’m good.” He nods his head.

“What’s up?”

“Your mom gave me an interesting update in the living room. I thought you might want to hear about. Something about that ex of yours going to see her?”

A sliver of dread makes my fingers and toes tingle. My stomach goes in knots. This can’t be good, judging by his stern facial expression. And my mother looks as if she’s just been invited to a garden party. She’s definitely covering up the gravity of something serious.

I dig my hands into the comforter behind my back and press my lips together so tightly that it hurts my mouth. “What did he do now?”

Mom takes a step closer. “I was at the grocery store when you know who bumped his cart into me. “

“What?” Goosebumps crawl along my limbs and I hold back a shudder at the idea that my ex was in such close proximity to my mother, even in a public place. He’s escalating, and this obsession with our now non-existent relationship is heading into dangerous turf. I loathe the idea of him tracking down Mom on top of everything else.

“He apologized, but I know it was all a game. He wanted me to know he was there and the only way he’d know is if he followed me. Anyway, I told him he needed to leave us both alone. All I can say is I’m glad we were in a public place.”

My mouth goes dry as I fumble for words. “Did he try to hurt you?”

“No. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. Jett Williams needs a serious talking to. I don’t think he’ll stop on his own.”

I can’t wrap my mind around why this is happening now. My fingers grip the sheets, forming fists that dig into my palms. The sharp pain keeps me from going completely off the deep end.

“Jett Williams?” Tate repeats, and leans against the nearby wall with his stare pinned to me.

I don’t repeat the name. In fact, I wish I’d never hear it again.

“Yes. I take it you know him,” I croak, meeting Tate’s eyes that seem to promise a slow retribution for my ex.

“I do.”

I’m vaguely aware that my mother resumes her babbling about her encounter with Jett. Tate listens attentively to everything she says. Mom goes on about how Jett can’t accept that things didn’t work out between us, or that I won’t move back to Louisiana.

“He was a nice enough guy at the beginning, Mom adds, directing her words at Tate, not me. “They just weren’t right for each other. They’d only been together for a few months when Jett proposed, which I thought was strange. He was moving too fast, and the more Molly tried to slow him down, the more unstable he became.”

The scowl on Tate’s face causes my throat to go tight. I swallow hard, wishing I’d said more to him earlier. Back then, I’d hope this drama would end on its own. Jett was barely a blip in my past, but he’s turned our history into a big nightmare. And it’s damn hard to banish a past that keeps showing up at my front door.

“Shoot, I almost forgot!” Mom exclaims and brushes past Tate into the hallway.

He steps up to me and places a steady, supportive hand on my shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Trying.”

The feel of his fingers massaging into my muscles is so comforting, I want to close my eyes and lose myself to his touch, except Mom will be back any second now.

“This Jett situation is a lot more serious than I first thought.”

I nod. “Probably.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

He grumbles under his breath, his hand falling away as my mother comes striding back into the room, holding out an envelope.

“This was in the mailbox for you. It’s Jett’s handwriting.” She doesn’t hand it to me, though. She gives it to Tate. Honestly, I’m glad he has it. I don’t care to read it because I know what Jett wants. I hate the fact that Jett can get to me so easily.

“I’ll, uh, leave you two alone now. Holler if you need me.” My mother’s searching gaze flicks from me to Tate and back. She gives me an awkward smile and hurries out of my room. The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor as she moves down the hall and takes the stairs only add to my desire to be anywhere but here.

“I can tell she wishes you got that psycho out of your life ages ago,” Tate rumbles out as he rips open the envelope.

“I do too. That’s hindsight for you.”

Tate scowls a couple of times as he reads. When he finishes, he crumples up the paper into a ball and stuffs it into his front pocket. “You done packing?”

“Yes.”

He reaches around me and zips up my travel bag, sliding it over his shoulder. I can hardly register his movements. I’m numb, lost in my own thoughts, wishing that Jett could disappear from my life the same way Tate just got rid of that letter. I want a redo of the last twenty-four hours, one where Jett never showed up. He’s always been a persistent guy. Back when we started dating, it was kind of cute, the way he made it clear that he wanted me and was serious about going the distance to have me in his life. Then he got clingy, overly protective, and beyond jealous. A guy couldn’t look at me without him wanting to pick a fight. His behavior began to bother the heck out of me, and after I told him to hit the road and he didn’t, it just pissed me off. Now, he’s wearing me down. He has me in a state of paranoia. I’m past the point of exhaustion.

“I get why you let your mother hire us,” Tate says and cocks his head. “It’s good that you picked our company.”

“Huh?” I glance up and meet his eyes that sparkle with mischief.

“This temporary living arrangement can turn out to be fun. Think about it. You, down the hall from me at the clubhouse. It sounds damn good to me.”

It takes every bit of restraint I have not to junk punch him for saying that now, while the whole Jett ordeal is sinking in. “Seriously, Tate? Don’t you think about anything but sex?”

“Sure, I do. Like weapons, good booze, long rides…want me to go on?”

“Not really.”

“I got you to forget about whatever’s on your mind, didn’t I?”

Damn it, he has. “Maybe a little,” I admit. “You’re something else.”

He rocks back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. “And yet, your mom’s money in my pocket says otherwise.”

He’s right—we’ve paid him for the luxury.

I grit my teeth.

Crap.

This is going to be a long few days.