The next morning, the air is crisp and fresh, and after the rainstorm the night before, everything looks bright and new. I spend the whole next day at Gavin’s lake house. Since it’s Sunday, the Golden Cup is closed, so I have an entire, glorious day with nothing to do but laze in bed with him, make love, talk, and eat when we realize we’re absolutely starving. He convinces me to spend the next night there with him, too — though I don’t need very much convincing — and the following morning, he drives me back to my house in time for work.

I’m deliciously sore from him, my entire body alive with the memory of his touch as I open the shop. It’s a typical Monday morning, except that this morning I’m feeling exceptionally lazy and can’t stop wishing that I was still lying in bed with Gavin instead of here serving customers and making espresso drinks.

Things between the two of us feel… different somehow, after this weekend. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but Gavin is more tender with me. More open, too. He told me stories about him and Gunner in the Marines, stories that made me laugh so hard I was snorting. He told me some other things, too, like how he lived in a home with alcoholic parents and an abusive father. How when he was eleven, his father shot and wounded a man, landing him in prison. That his mom was unfit to care for him and his sister Kessa, and so the state put them into foster care. How he decided early on that the only one that could take care of him was himself. And how, to do that, he relied on the only thing he learned from his dad: how to fight.

Gavin told me a little more about the problems the Lords of Carnage are facing, too. Not a lot. Only that it’s dangerous at the moment, and that he’ll do everything in his power to keep it all away from me. He tells me I’m safe, that he’ll never let anyone do anything to hurt me.

And I don’t doubt that for one second. Not at all.

What about him, though?

Gavin’s told me that he’ll be busy with club business most of this week, and warned me that he might not be able to see me as much as he’d like until a few things get taken care of. Still, for some reason I keep half-expecting him to stop by the shop this morning on his way to the clubhouse or wherever. As the minutes tick by, then turn to hours, and he still doesn’t show, I start to get agitated. And then I get pissed at myself for being more disappointed than I have any right to be.

I’m refilling milk and cream dispensers and berating myself for being such a needy idiot when the front door opens. Looking up expectantly, my pulse speeds to a flutter.

It’s not Gavin. My heart drops in disappointment. But it is someone I recognize, though for a second I can’t place her.

“Sydney!” she waves. Her voice, and her long, dark brown hair, finally snap into place who it is.

“Sam!” I say in surprise. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Sam flashes me a wide grin. “Just thought I’d come in and check out your shop. I’ve been meaning to come in for a while now, actually. But now I can say I know the owner!”

She’s not alone. Holding her hand is a little boy of about three years old. He’s blond, with enormous blue eyes that seem to take in everything at once. I step out from behind the counter to greet them.

“This is Connor,” she says, looking down at the boy. “Connor, this is Sydney.”

I crouch down so that I’m at eye level with him. “Hi, Connor. Pleased to meet you.” He looks at me solemnly with his wide eyes, and moves to hide behind Sam’s leg. I make a goofy face at him. He hesitates for a moment, sizing me up, then ducks his head shyly and smiles.

“Connor, let’s see if we can find you something yummy to eat in that case over there, okay?” Sam says to him. Connor nods and allows himself to be led to the pastry case, and Sam starts to tell him what each of the items are. Eventually, he points at the chocolate muffins, and I go behind the counter and pull one out for him.

“I’d love a hot chocolate,” Sam says. “And a glass of milk for him.”

I get their drinks and ring her up. Since there’s no one else waiting to be served, I come with them as they settle into a table not far from the counter and decide to sit down with them for a few minutes.

“I didn’t realize you and Hawk had a child,” I say as I drop into a chair.

“Oh, we don’t. I mean,” she laughs, “Connor isn’t his or mine, biologically. We’re his foster parents. For now, anyway.” She takes Connor’s muffin and pulls the paper off for him, then sets it back on his plate. “We’ve applied to adopt him, and we’re just waiting to hear whether our application has been accepted.”

“Wow.” I’m impressed. “Is it looking good for you that they’ll say yes? I hear adoption can be really complicated.”

“It’s a long process,” she agrees. “But in Connor’s case, his biological family is supportive of our taking him. So we’re hoping it will go smoothly.”

I look over at the little boy, who is happily munching on a bit of muffin, his mouth already dark with chocolate. My heart melts just a little.

“He’s a sweetheart, isn’t he?” Sam says, reading my thoughts. “We love him so, so much. Hawk and I started fostering him pretty early on in our relationship, so he’s been with us for almost as long as we’ve been together. I can’t imagine our lives without him.”

“He’s a doll.” My mind tries to wrap itself around Hawk as a dad. It seems so incongruous to imagine a big, tough, tattooed biker as a father. Then again, Jenna told me that she and Ghost have two kids of their own, and apparently Ghost dotes on them even more than she does.

“So.” Sam leans back with a conspiratorial smirk on her face. “Change of subject. You and Brick. Spill.”

I can’t help but snort at her directness. “Um. Spill?” I stammer, stalling for time. “Like, what?”

“You know!” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “What’s he like in…” She glances over at Connor. “During… playtime?”

I redden, and try to think how to respond. “He’s really, really good at… playing,” I finally manage.

“I bet,” she smirks. “Has he asked you to be his old lady yet?”

“Old lady?” I wrinkle my nose at the term.

Sam laughs. “It does sound kind of weird, I know. But that’s what the guys in the MC call their girlfriends and wives. It means you’re his, and his alone. Forever. Off limits to all the other men.”

“Oh,” I say, reddening. “No, we haven’t…”

Then it hits me. A memory from our first night at the lake house.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “Say it.”

Does he want me like that? Is that what he meant?

A little shiver runs through me. It’s a little scary to think about, so early on. But it also makes my heart flutter in my chest.

“We haven’t… really gotten that far,” I say uncertainly.

“Really?” she eyes me skeptically. “Because the way he was looking at you at the clubhouse the other night, it sure seems like he’s thinking about it. Hell, Hawk says he’s never even seen Brick show more than a passing interest in any woman, except for… well, you know. Playtime.” Connor looks up at her curiously, then continues eating. “He was clearly introducing you to us for a reason. Bringing you into the family, so to speak.”

The little flutter in my chest grows to a hammering. Because the fact is? As crazy as it seems, I’m hoping she’s right about this. I realize now as I sit here, the last couple of days with Gavin have been the happiest I can ever remember being. By a long shot. I want it to continue. I want us to continue. I want to be his.

“Sam,” I murmur, deciding to ask her a question that’s been on my mind all morning. “Brick was telling me this weekend about some trouble that’s happening with the club. Do you know anything about that?”

She nods. “Yeah. Hawk’s told me. Not the details, of course. The men keep the club business strictly to themselves. But I know from what he’s told me that it concerns a rival club, and I think it has something to do with some of the crimes that have been happening here in Tanner Springs.”

Connor has finished his muffin now, and he climbs down from his chair and comes to sit in Sam’s lap. She pulls him up and grabs a napkin to wipe off his mouth. “It can be a little nerve wracking, when you know something’s up with the club. That’s just a reality of being in this life. But I trust Hawk, and I know he’ll do everything he can to keep his brothers safe, and us out of danger.” She looks at me. “You should trust Brick, too. He’s a good man, and he’ll do anything to protect the people he cares about.”

“I do,” I say, and I realize it’s true. I trust Gavin completely. Ultimately, I’d trust him with my life. I know instinctively that he would throw himself in front of a bullet for me. Hell, he’s been trying to protect me from the very beginning, from threats I didn’t even know about.

For the first time since my father died, I feel like there’s someone out there who accepts me for who I am, and whose only agenda is to try to protect me and keep me safe.

I’m not used to this. My whole life, I’ve been taught that the only person I can rely on is myself. Even my father taught me to keep my cards close to my chest, because in our world, the more someone knows about you, the more they can use that knowledge against you.

I’ve been holding myself back from Gavin. Telling him only half of my story. Partly from fear, and partly from habit. But if things continue down the path I think they’re on — if Gavin bringing me to meet his people means what Sam says it means…

If he feels the same way about me that I’m starting to feel about him…

Then it’s time for me to put my trust in him.

It’s time for me to tell Gavin the whole story of why Syd Banner really left Atlantic City.