“Where is she?” I hated how I sounded. Like I still cared about her. I didn't. What kind of mother preferred drugs over their own flesh and blood? My uncle Hoop stood staring at me, playing with his beard, as if I didn't ask a bombshell question.

He was in his late fifties. Taller than I was and had an uncanny resemblance to Santa Claus. He wore a vest similar to mine except his had a large patch on the back signifying where he belonged. His cut. The Bastards. Even knowing he would never tell me anything, I made it a point not to ask. I’d wanted to be like my dad my entire young adult life. It’d taken a long time to understand that his choice in pushing me away, made the difference of who I am and where I was today. Sons of men like my father didn’t always get away from that lifestyle unscathed.

“She’s in Longville. You’ll find her at The Champion Horse Therapeutic Center.” He drew the words out in a British accent. This was a bad idea. I could feel it in my gut.

“You know what, Hoop, never mind. I can't do this for him. I don't want to do this. I don't want to see her.”

“I can't let you disappoint your old man, son,” he said. And as threateningly as that sounded, I knew I had nothing to fear.

“Yeah, you can. You go up there and find her. I don't want to see her. I’ve lived almost my entire fucking life without her in it. I don't need a surprise for my fortieth birthday.”

“Your dad wants you to go. It's the only way she’ll give him the time of day.”

“Will she even know what time of day it is? You know what my last memory of her is? Do you want to know? It's not pretty, Hoop. I’d just gotten home from school, eighth grade, and I could hear them. I thought it was my dad. When I headed to my room, there she was bent over our kitchen table—where I ate my Fruit Loops—getting screwed by Big Don. Remember him? Still had the fucking wrap on her arm, needle on the tray. That's bad shit, man. I don't want to see her. I can't.”

“Your dad kept you out of this life. It's all he’s askin’ from you, Cap.”

“What’s wrong with him? Did he tell you why he wants to see her?” I asked.

“He wants to make amends. Apologize – shit like that.”

“Why? The only time people ever realize how fucked up they were is when they’re-” I stopped, the reality of this conversation hitting me like a heavy dose of bricks. “Is he dying?”

Hoop didn’t respond, his eyes dark and insolent. “Why don’t you go see him?”

“Fuck!” I yelled.

I didn't know if my dad would ever be a free man again. They say once you’re in the pen for a certain period of time, that you forget what life was like on the outside. That you get scared. Unfamiliar with the new things in life: smart phones, all those environmental activists who hate motorcycles, emoji’s. It's easier to live inside those walls where you never had to worry. Aside from that, my dad wasn't innocent. I don't imagine prison changed that about him.

My birthday was in a few weeks. I was turning forty. Forty fucking years old and when I looked at Hoop and his ragged beard, saw the same brown eyes of my father in him, the tattoo that signified he was in the club for life and I wasn't, I felt obligated to do this one small thing my dad was asking of me. If nothing for the simple fact that he was family.

What if he was dying?

The horse place he was asking me to go to, where I would find my mother, was a four-hour drive from Lone Star. I wasn't going today, but maybe I’d make time to go tomorrow. Or next weekend.

No rush, right? It wasn't like my dad was going anywhere.

“I gotta go,” I told my uncle. His firm gaze watched me, gave me a look that said I knew what needed to be done.

“We have to do things we don't like sometimes, son.”

I smirked as I hopped on my bike. Give me a fucking break. He was preaching that to me? Why the hell didn’t he go find the woman? Help his brother out.

I rode home in a blur, trying to comprehend how meeting my mother would play out. Knowing she was only four hours away from here made me feel worse than not knowing where the fuck she was. Cemented in all those feelings I had about not being good enough for her. Not being important enough to choose over her next hit.

My front door was open behind the screen door, indicating Grace was at my house. Damn Grace. I've been trying like hell to avoid her. Ever since we agreed to fuck temporarily, I found the task to be easier said than done. Her assurance that that would be all it was didn't sit right with me. Truth be told, I didn't fully understand her motives.

Today she was wearing cutoff jean shorts and a plain white t-shirt that unlocked a little bit of Fort Knox. Just a little. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and her sparkling flip flops showed off her fresh pedicure. Orange, this time.

“Grace.”

“Maverick.”

She eyed me warily as I stepped toward her. Her mutt sat at her feet like a guard dog and watched me as I approached her. “Come on,” I said.

“Come where?” She bit her bottom lip.

“With me. Please. Let's go. Put your mutt away.”

She frowned at me. That little mole of hers moving up as her cheeks puffed. She was smart enough not to argue with me, finally for once, and she picked up the fur ball to put away.

Her shorts rode up miles of skin as she bent over and I admired her creamy white skin—that stretched on forever—luscious skin I wanted to sink my teeth into.

“Okay, because you said please. Now what, boss?”

She couldn't help teasing me, could she? Maybe if I said please to her more often…

Focus, Cap.

“C’mon.”

“Oh no,” she said. “No, I can’t get on the back of that.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. Come on, Grace. I promise you the feeling is…wicked.”

“Wicked…good?”

I laughed, “Come on, Princess, and find out.”

“I can't, Maverick. I’m scared. I don't even like motorcycles. What if we crash? What if someone runs into us? What if- “

“No what ifs. Trust me, ok? I’ll take care of you, Princess.”

Her eyes darted nervously around my bike as if it were going to give her a sign. A solemn vow that everything was going to be okay.

“Do you promise, Maverick?”

“Put this on.”

“Where’s yours?”

“I don't wear a helmet.” The helmet got caught on her ponytail as I tried sliding it down her head. “Here.”

I pulled the band from her hair and was struck by the sugary scent of her as the breeze pushed her loose hair into my face. I pulled the helmet down and opened the mask. Her bright blue eyes saw right through me.

“There,” I said. “Now, hop on.”

“How? I don't know where. I don't even- “

I got on to my bike and backed it down my driveway before I glanced at her. I signaled at her with my head and she walked toward me, scared but still sexy enough to set my soul on fire.

“Put your hand here on my shoulder and your foot here. Think of it as a horse. Throw your other leg over the side. There.”

Her hand gripped my shoulders firmly and I turned my head to her. “Settle in. I’m taking you on the ride of your life.”

The roar of the motor filled my head along with my heart. The vibrations went through me as I pulled her hands from my shoulders and settled them around my waist, pulling her in so she understood to hang on.

“Trust me?” I yelled over my shoulder.

The gentle bumps of the helmet along my shoulder was my only answer. I took the opposite way out of town. Far away from Main Street and the feed store so there were less peeping toms to try and guess what blondie was on the back of my hog.

Grace was still wound up; I could feel it in her death grip but I hoped once we hit the interstate she would mellow. Her bare legs settled around me, her body pressed against mine and it felt damn good to have her on the back of my bike.

Damn good.

I could only hope she enjoyed the ride as much as me. Ten minutes into our ride, her grip around my waist relaxed. She stayed close though and at times I felt her legs tighten around me, squeezing me as I throttled down the engine or we weaved past a car.

I eventually pulled over at a gas station to fill up and get us a drink. She pulled the helmet off faster than I could park the bike.

“That is amazing!” She squeaked into my ear. “I was so nervous at first. But there’s nothing else like it, Maverick. The wind against my body, how I feel like I'm flying along the highway leaving all the cars behind and you-”

I hopped off the bike and took the helmet from her, setting it on the back. Her energy ran through my blood and I was pleased with myself. Score one for me.

“And me what?”

“You feel good,” she blushed.

She was so beautiful sitting there in her shorts and white top. Her blonde hair blew slightly in the breeze. Her eyes matched the sky and she was so full of sunshine, I couldn't stop myself from kissing her right there next to the pump with the smell of gas all around us.

Her lips were soft and gentle. Unsure if she should take what I was offering. Then she parted her mouth and hummed low in her throat and my tongue tasted hers. She was sugar. My sugar. At least for today. I could believe in today. The gas pump clicked off and I pulled back. She stared at me in wonder, as if she, too, knew I was going to give myself and her this day to be filled with sunshine and whatever else she wanted to fill it with.

“Where to next, Maverick?”

“You put your helmet back on and I’ll go get us a drink. Then I have a place in mind we could go.”

I left her with the wheels turning in her head and a smile on her face. When I returned, her helmet was secure I shoved our drinks into one of the saddlebags and I tore ass out of there and back onto the interstate. The place I had in mind wasn't far. Thirty minutes tops. I took that time to enjoy the ride as well as my riding companion.

I gripped her leg with my hand, chuckling at myself when it caused her to jump. She tightened her grip on my waist, nestled her head against my back and stayed that way until I pulled off the interstate and found the small, familiar road I was looking for.

Hidden amongst the trees, low in a valley, there was a place I’d found years and years ago when I lost Candi and our son. I named him Corey because they needed something for his death. And since Candi and I were waiting until she gave birth to find out what we were having, we hadn’t settled on any names. Corey was one name we both had liked but couldn't decide whether it fit a boy or girl. In the end, I was happy with my choice.

I’d come to this spot regularly after I lost them. Less and less through the years. I managed to come out here every few months or so just to sit. Not think. Let go of life being a bitch and all that. I pulled the bike to a stop, parking it beneath a grove of trees to stay cool under the shade. Once again Grace had already pulled her helmet off before she was off the bike.

“What is this place?”

“I’ll show you.” I grabbed our drinks and a small container of bait I’d picked up from the store. She didn't know it yet, but we were going fishing.

Off the street, on a small path so surrounded by trees it was hard to find, I led my sunshine down to the lake. The trees thinned out, leaving a natural enclave of boulders to sit on right next to the edge of the crystal-clear water. We could walk in along the edge or cast out from here. It was good enough for some fishing.

“It's beautiful. So quiet here.”

“It is. Ever fished?” I asked her as I pulled my fishing pole out from behind a fallen log.

“A few times with my brother. When we were younger. Do you just keep that here? Aren't you afraid someone will steal it?”

“No one’s going to come out here. Besides, it's not the greatest pole I’ve got. You wanna give it a try?” I cocked my head toward the lake.

“I’ll just watch for now. How’d you find this place? It's so remote.”

I took a practice cast, reeled the line in and then baited my hook and cast it out into the lake. Once settled, I answered her. “I found it when Candi died.”

“Oh. I'm sorry I asked.”

I shrugged. “You don’t have to be sorry every time I bring her up. Besides, you’re always talking up a storm in my garage. Why are you so quiet out here?”

“Honestly because it’s perfect. This spot, the ride, the way you’re acting. I’m afraid to mess it up.”

I grabbed a hold of her hand, threading her small fingers through mine and we sat down together where I’d set my pole. Close enough to grab it in case I got a bite.

“I have my moments,” I teased, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“Is that right? They’re so few and far between.”

“I don't know the first thing about normal. Candi was normal. That part of my life was normal and it got taken away from me. Thatcher is about as close as normal gets for me. And you.”

“Normal is boring. Am I really that normal?” she whined.

“Princess, you’re far from boring, I promise you that. There was a time I thought you were boring and uptight. Now that I'm getting to know you, I realize you're neither things. Well, maybe a little uptight, but nothing ole Cap here can't shake up.”

I scooted closer to her, craving her touch, knowing that in order to give into my perfect day of sunshine, I had to show her I meant it. That I wanted it. I wrapped my arm around her, meeting her sultry gaze as I moved her in between my legs so that her back rested against my chest.

“Is this okay?” I whispered into her ear.

“It's perfect.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What do you want to know? My life is an open book.”

“That's what you want people to think, but I don't believe it for a minute.”

“What do you want to know?” She pressed her back into me, urging me to go on. I kept an eye on my fishing reel as I enjoyed this moment. The way her little body fit between my legs. How natural it felt to have her against me. I dipped my head into her hair and breathed her scent in.

“Who do you talk to besides me?”

“What do you mean? Thatcher, Abby, my parents-”

“No, I mean, really talk to. Confide in. Don't you have anyone? What about Joel from the gas station?” I teased. Teased but was dying to know how far their relationship stretched.

“Oh, you were listening to mine and Lorna’s conversation at the barbeque. Not Joel. Never. No one, I guess. Thatcher on some occasions, but if you mean do I have anyone I tell all of my deepest darkest secrets to, then no. I don't have anyone.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know. I've never been particularly close to my parents. My mom, well, she’s drunk all the time and annoying as hell. She thinks everything is about her. You know she wanted me to take a day off the last week of school to help her decorate for a luncheon at their house? And when I told her I was working she had the gall to get upset and asked me to think about it? Who knows what my dad thinks. All he cares about is money. They are those types of people that would have been fine not having children. Besides them, you already know about the women I work with. I don't trust the majority of them.”

“So that leaves me?”

She turned in my arms, looking into my eyes. “No, it doesn't leave you. I find that you're very easy to talk to. Especially when I do all the talking,” she chided.

“You don't have some fantasy in your mind that I'm like those guys in the books you read, do you?”

“Those guys, even though they’re sexy, they don't treat their ‘old ladies’ very nice.”

I laughed at the way she made air-quotes with the phrase.

“They don't. Sometimes they treat them nice, but they talk mean to them. Call them bitches, tell them what to do. You aren't like that, right Maverick?”

“I think you know the answer to that already. Why do you keep reading them then?”

“Because the sex is so good. Like turns you on, sort of good.”

“Wicked good.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“And these?” I slid my palms up her chest, cupping her generous tits in both hands. My mouth was on her neck as I gloried in the way she felt, “Who taught you not to like these?”

“It's two-fold really. My back hurts a lot and I can never find bras or tops that fit well. People look at me. They always stare at me. Like how can a little girl like me have such big boobs? Some have even had the audacity to ask me that.”

I moved my hands away, my fishing pole bobbing a little and I made a move to pick it up so I could check the line.

“Don't you, Maverick? Don't you wonder why they’re so big?”

I glanced at the topic of discussion. “No. I never question that at all. I love’em. I told you I think they’re perfect. I meant it.”

I reeled the line in and put more bait on the hook. I didn't like how part of her was on display for the world non-stop even though she covered them and that other people made her uncomfortable with her own body. I was instantly territorial like I had some ownership over the whole situation. As if I could protect her.

Today I could ward off her self-consciousness.

While I was letting my guard down.

“I want to have them reduced.”

That stopped me mid-cast. The bait and hook landing closer to the edge than I would have liked. I reeled it in again, chewing on this information.

“What stops you?” I flipped the pole up, jerked the rod, let the line fly. Plop! Down it went until I set the reel.

“Too nervous, I guess. And the fact that I would have to go alone. It's not something I want Thatcher to take me to.”

“I get that. What about Abby?”

“Maybe in time. Hopefully our sister status will change and deepen over time. Just isn't quite there yet.”

“It's understandable. You amaze me, Grace. You’re so damn confident, it’s a surprise how you won’t just march in there and demand the surgery.” I gazed at her as she stood and looked out across the lake like there was something worthy of seeing out there. No boats, no people, just the sound of mallards honking as they flew above us, dipping into the water every so often.

The sunlight cast its glow on her head, lighting up her hair in a mane of sparkling diamonds. Her side profile showcased her body perfectly. The smooth curves of legs and roundness of her ass. Her flat stomach and straight spine. The expansive curves of her chest. I finally, fully understood why she treated them like Fort Knox.

Was this what it felt like to have feelings for someone again?

I felt solitude. Contentment. Beauty that ran blood deep. Grace and poise. An attraction that went beyond fucking her.

It blew me away that she filled the boots of her name. She owned it. It wasn't like her name fit her. It was she who fit the name.

“Why?” she asked.

Why what? I groaned, “You amaze me with the kind of person you are. Your entire personality is….happiness. It astounds me. Fuck, Grace, you don't need anyone to go with you to do something like that. It's all in here.”

I pointed to her head. My pole bobbed again, this time the tip bowed forward and I jerked it back before quickly reeling it in.

“Oh my gosh, you caught a fish!” she pouted.

“That’s the idea.”

“Hurry get it. Are you hurting it? Is it going to die?”

Jesus. I rolled my eyes and took the little fish off the hook. Too small to keep even if I had a cooler. I threw it back into the water.

“Will it survive?”

“I thought you’ve fished before? It’ll be fine. It's just a fish.”

“I know. It's just sad. Floating along, enjoying life, thinking it's going to have a nice snack and bam, a hook stuck in his flesh. It must hurt them.”

I didn't bother baiting the hook after that. I set the pole down and reached for her. My mouth hovered over her lips as I asked her, “What do you want to do next, Gracie?”