Chapter Eighteen
FINLAY AWOKE TO the sound of Penny’s ringtone. She rolled toward Bullet’s side of the bed and realized she was alone. It had been two weeks since Bullet had mentioned cutting back his hours and ten days since Jed had modified his schedule to accommodate the change. Bullet had been far less edgy ever since, and he’d been sleeping soundly again, which was why she was confused about waking to an empty bed.
She reached blindly for her phone and put it to her ear. “Hey, Pen. What’s up?”
“Obviously not you.”
“What time is it?” She turned to look at the clock and found a sticky note blocking the numbers. She snagged it and read Bullet’s blocky handwriting. Meet me out front.
“Time for you to get up,” Penny said way too cheerily. “I gotta run. I’m meeting Tegan at Jazzy Joe’s for coffee. Love you!” The line went dead.
Jazzy Joe’s was a café in town run by twins Jasmine and Joe Carbo. Coffee sounded really good right then. She sat at the edge of the bed, wondering what the heck was going on, then padded over to the bathroom and found another sticky note on the mirror.
Wear jeans and those sexy lace-up boots.
She couldn’t stop smiling as she used the bathroom and brushed her teeth and hair. Her life had changed so much, so fast. The morning of the baby shower, she’d thought her life couldn’t get any better. Then one of the women at the event had hired her to cater a surprise party for her mother and Bullet had broken the news about cutting back his hours at work and told her that Dixie had mentioned the possibility of hiring Isabel. Finlay had been so excited, she’d accepted the part-time job with the Whiskeys that very night. In the two weeks since, she’d had the menus designed and printed, and Isabel had worked out an almost full-time schedule with Dixie, giving her time to also work with Finlay, and she’d already put in her notice at the restaurant in Boston.
Last Saturday they’d pulled together the final details for the fundraiser, which was taking place in two weeks, after the charity ride. Sarah’s brother was out of ICU, and with any luck, he and the baby would be discharged before the event. The fundraiser was being held on the grounds of Whiskey Bro’s, and they would use it to announce the opening of the kitchen. Finlay was going to cook, and all proceeds from food sales as well as the rally itself would go to the Beckleys.
She gazed out the bedroom window at the backyard as she pulled on a pair of skinny jeans. She and Bullet had worked in the gardens together last Sunday. His passion for nature, and for her, was boundless, and she loved working with him in the gardens as much as she loved working with him at the bar. It was easy to see how working with his hands, concentrating on bringing life into the world, nurturing it, and watching it grow, was cathartic. Just like loving him.
As she laced up the boots he loved and threw on a comfy gray sweater, she wondered what he had up his sleeve this morning.
Downstairs, she found a Pillsbury cinnamon bun on a plate in the kitchen with raisins in the shape of the letter B on top, along with a cup of instant coffee. He was so thoughtful, but she had to laugh that his possessiveness carried over to the B on the top of the cinnamon bun. Could she fall any more in love with him? She quickly ate the bun, getting more excited by the second, and downed the coffee, which was too bitter, but Bullet had gone to the trouble of making it. It could have been thick as sludge and she still would have drank it.
She put her dishes in the sink and ran out front. “Bullet?”
He came out of the garage wearing his leather jacket and jeans and carrying something behind his back. “There’s my angel.”
Tinkerbell trotted over to Finlay, and she knelt to love her up, remembering the first time she’d seen her and screamed and the morning she’d come over to meet her. She’d been terrified, but Bullet and his family had made her feel safe, and they hadn’t stopped since.
Bullet knelt beside her and kissed her cheek. He’d trimmed his beard, but it was still long enough to tickle. “Hey, baby. I got you something.”
“Was that something a phone call from Penny?”
He chuckled. “Someone had to wake you.” He handed her a box wrapped in sparkling silver paper with a big pink bow around it. “She told me about your dad and his gifts. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to carry on that tradition of celebrating your milestones.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Bullet? What’s this for?” she asked as they both rose to their feet. Tinkerbell leaned against her leg.
“Because you’re my girl.”
She untied the bow and lifted off the top. “Oh my gosh, is this leather?”
Bullet took the box as she withdrew a gorgeous black leather biker jacket with big silver zippers, just like his, only made for a woman.
“Turn it around.”
She did, and her heart leapt. WHISKEY’S was embroidered across the back in script. “You got me a jacket from the bar? I love it.”
He set the box down and gathered her in his arms. “That’s not a bar jacket, babe.” A spark of possession glimmered in his eyes.
“You’re branding me?” She giggled.
“Protecting.”
“More like claiming.” She tugged him down for a kiss and said, “I love it. Thank you.”
“Try it on.” He held it as she slipped her arms into it.
“It’s so soft. Does it look okay?”
He made a guttural noise and hauled her in for a greedy kiss, leaving her breathless.
“Wow. I like getting presents from you.”
“You look hot as fuck, baby. Seriously, I shouldn’t let you go out wearing those painted-on jeans and that jacket.”
“Let me? Do we need to have a talk about this?”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“Good, because now that I’ve seen your reaction, I’m going to make a point of wearing jeans around you more often.”
His arm swooped around her waist, and he lifted her with one arm and kissed her again. “You might never leave the house if you do.”
“I’m not sure my employers will be happy about that. You know, I have a real job now.”
“This employer has no qualms with you spending all your time in his bed.” He set her on her feet and put an arm around her neck. “Come on, babe. We’re going for a ride.”
He led her into the garage to his shiny black motorcycle and patted the leather seat. “Hop on, baby girl.”
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“Until a few weeks ago you’d never had sex outside, and until two nights ago, you’d never had sex on top of the washer while it was running. I seem to remember you enjoying both so much, we needed repeat performances.”
She was unable to deny the thrill of either.
He put his arms around her again and said, “You can always trust me, baby. I’d never put you in harm’s way, and I promise to go slow.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear and his gaze softened and somehow intensified at once. “I love you, Finlay, and I want you with me when I ride. Please do this for me?”
“You…” Emotions clogged her throat.
“I love you, baby. I love how you stand up for what you believe in. I love how you believe in me and how you love Tinkerbell. I love you in your frilly dresses, and I love you lying naked beneath me. I love all of you, and I want, I hope, you’ll try this for me because riding is a big part of who I am.”
She could barely breathe as she struggled to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “I love you, too.” She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her into his arms, both of them laughing and kissing. “So much, Bullet. I love you so much.”
“Me too, baby.” Kiss, kiss. “God, it feels good to finally tell you.”
“For me, too.” She kissed him again, and as he set her feet on the ground, she said, “I’ll try to go for a ride, but if I get scared, you’ll stop?”
“Always, baby.”
“Where will we go? Do you have a favorite place you like to ride?”
“No. The open road has always been my place.”
He put Tinkerbell in the house and gave Finlay a lesson in motorcycle safety. She tried really hard to concentrate, but she was busy silently repeating everything he’d said about loving her so she’d never forget a word of it. When he helped her onto the bike and gave her a pink helmet with WHISKEY’S written in black cursive on the sides and said, “I had it made to match your jacket,” she fell even more in love with him. The emotions were so overwhelming, they mounted inside her, taking up all of her until she couldn’t keep them in any longer.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you more than words can say, Bullet, and I just want to tell you over and over again, so you never forget.”
“I’ll never forget, baby. But I hope you’ll never stop telling me anyway.”
He helped her onto the bike, then climbed on in front of her and showed her how to hold him. Wrapping herself around Bullet felt as natural as baking a cake. This was where she belonged, with Bullet, no matter where he was.
“Ready, angel?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The motorcycle roared to life, vibrating like thunder beneath her. As good as that felt, it didn’t feel half as incredible as the way it rumbled up Bullet’s body, humming through his back and radiating against her heart.
“I think I’m going to love this!” she yelled.
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there before pulling her arms around him tighter and putting on his helmet.
As he drove down the driveway, she felt like she was flying. She inhaled the grassy, leafy scents of fall, which took on a sharper, more vibrant aroma. He stopped at the end of the long driveway to ask how she was doing and she gave him a thumbs-up. He revved the engine and turned onto the main drag, heading out of Peaceful Harbor and toward their newest adventure.
BULLET STOPPED TO check in with Finlay two or three times during the beginning of their ride, and he was thrilled that she not only wasn’t freaking out, but was bubbling over with enthusiasm. Seeing her on his bike, with that leather jacket and helmet, was almost the biggest aphrodisiac he’d ever encountered. But nothing was more of a turn-on than Finlay Wilson wearing one of her frilly little dresses and that sunshine smile.
About an hour outside of the harbor, he turned off the highway, heading up a narrow mountain road, to give Finlay the experience of riding the back roads. The sun had kicked up, gracing them with a gorgeous day. If he were riding with the guys, he’d keep on going for hours, but as incredible as it felt to have Finlay pressed up against him, he wanted her in his arms. He physically ached with love for her. Like his heart had never fully functioned, and she made it work harder than it ever had. That was a new and exquisite pain, one he hoped never ended.
He followed the windy mountain roads until they came to a meadow, when Finlay yanked at his jacket, indicating she wanted to stop. He pulled over and removed his helmet, stepping off the bike to see his bright-eyed girl.
“You okay?”
She tugged at her helmet, and he helped her take it off.
“That was amazing. Fantastic. It was so romantic, holding on to you. I can’t explain it, but…” She rose onto her toes, still straddling the bike, and pressed her lips to his.
“I wish I knew more about romance for you, baby.”
Her smile cut straight to his heart.
“Just saying that is more romantic than anything I could dream up.” She grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him closer. “I get it now. All of it, Bullet. The closeness of the club, the way these rides become a part of you. The reason you sometimes get edgy when you don’t have a chance to ride.”
“I don’t get that way much when I’m with you, do I?”
“No, but sometimes I see something there, and then when you come home from work and step off your bike, that look is gone.”
“That’s me coming home to you, baby.” He lifted her off the bike and kissed her hard. He ran his fingers through her hair and held on tight with both hands, angling her face up so he could gaze into her eyes. “You slay my demons and make everything seem possible. I want everything with you, Fins. I want days of riding and nights of making love until the sun comes up. And right now, pretty girl,” he said as he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the meadow, “I need to love you.”
She laughed and kissed him as he carried her through the tall flowers and grass to the far side of the meadow, out of sight from any passersby. He lowered her to her feet, taking her in another sensual kiss.
“You okay here?” he asked against her lips.
She pushed his jacket from his shoulders without hesitation or embarrassment, and that trust nearly did him in. He tugged off his shirt and laid it on the ground. Their mouths came together in slow, loving kisses as they undressed each other and sank down to the grass. Cool air brushed over their skin, but her flesh was warm to the touch, gorgeous in the sun’s rays.
“God, I love you, baby,” he said between urgent kisses as he loved every inch of her body, worshipping her scars and that heavenly paradise between her legs. He guided her legs over his shoulders, devouring her, teasing over the special spot that made her quiver and shake. She pulled at his hair, holding his mouth tight against her swollen sex as he took his fill.
“Please, Bullet.”
He lifted her hips, feasting on her, feeling the rush of her approaching orgasm in her quickening breaths, the flexing of her thighs. He gripped her ass, holding it tight in the way he’d learned made her climaxes even more intense. She cried out, her body bucking wildly as she shattered against his mouth. He didn’t relent, holding her tighter, plunging his tongue deeper, through the very last pulse of her release. Then he sheathed his cock and drove into her in one hard thrust.
“Ah!” she cried out as his mouth came down over hers.
She was right there with him, meeting every thrust of his hips, every stroke of his tongue, with an eager, loving motion of her own. Every breath she took, every noise she made, roused his passion. Long, surrendering moans came from both of them as they yielded to their love. As they soared up toward the clouds, he was filled with an incredible sense of completeness.
They lay together for a long while afterward, until Bullet had no choice but to reluctantly break their connection so he could take care of the condom.
He helped her on with her panties and sweater and put on his briefs, still too hot to be dressed. Then he lay on his back with Finlay tucked against his side. Her thigh moved over his, and she ran her fingers along his chest. He laced their hands together and kissed her knuckles.
“When we’re close,” she said softly, “I feel like we fall into this world of our own, and nothing else matters or exists. Is that terribly selfish? I mean, the real world is out there. Poor Sarah is struggling to heal her family and make ends meet, and people around the world are suffering, and here we are in this blissful meadow.”
“You’re the least selfish person I know.”
“No, not even close. That would be you.” She unlaced their fingers and touched his skull ring. “Is that for the Dark Knights?”
“No. It was my grandfather’s. The other one I wear was my uncle Axel’s, my father’s brother. He died when I was on tour, and Bear held on to it for me.”
“But you wear three sometimes.”
“The third was my old man’s. He gave it to me when I went into the military.”
“Do you think you’ll ever tell your family about the time you were in the hospital? The truth of how you almost died?”
He shifted his eyes up to the clear blue sky. Talking with Finlay about his past was easier now, since they’d talked about it quite a few times. She was too curious to let many questions go unanswered, and he knew this one bothered her because not only did she hate lies as much as he did, but she loved his family. She was too bighearted to let it go.
She straddled him, and his blond angel smiled down on him. “How long were you in the hospital?”
“Several weeks in the hospital and a couple months of rehab. I came home about eight months after I was discharged.”
“You’re not going to answer me about telling them, are you?”
She didn’t say it accusingly. She said it with acceptance and without judgment, and that made him hurt in a whole new way. “Babe, I can think of a hundred reasons not to tell them, but not one reason to do it.”
Her expression turned serious. “Do you think they’d be hurt knowing you didn’t tell them in the first place?”
“Definitely. They’d want to know all the details, and who knows what kind of shit that’ll bring up. Some things are just better left unsaid.”
“Are you protecting them, or yourself?” Again, there was no judgment, just the need to understand shining in her eyes.
“Both, to be honest.”
She nodded and ran her finger over the names tattooed on the right side of his chest. “Would it bother you to tell me whose names these are?”
“Fallen brothers. Guys I couldn’t save.”
She squinted, lowering her face so she could look more closely. “There are so many I can barely read most of them.”
“They’re not for anyone else to read. They’re for me.”
Her gaze met his. “Should I not try?”
“No, babe. My body is your body. Go ahead.”
She shifted so she was lying on his other side and began whispering the names as she read them and pressing kisses over each one. “Dreamer.” Kiss. “S. Nelson.” Kiss. “Brinks. Michael Z.” Kiss. Kiss.
He closed his eyes against the pang of painful memories accompanying each one. When he’d started honoring his fallen brothers, he hadn’t known if he’d remember them, but with each name she spoke, he knew he’d never forget. Many he hadn’t known well. Some he’d met on missions, known them for only minutes or hours before they were killed. Others he’d known for years. He listened to her sweet voice, concentrating on that instead of the heartache.
“Daniel.” Kiss. “Gunner.” Kiss. “Chip. Buzz.” Kiss. Kiss. “M. Martinez.” Kiss.
Her hand stilled on his skin, and a chill rushed down his spine. The air around them, the very atmosphere, turned colder. His eyes flew open, and he grabbed her hand, unsure of what she’d sparked and afraid he’d tumble into a flashback. But when his eyes met hers, the fear in them revealed the chill he’d felt. Her hands trembled within his, and he bolted upright. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I. A. Rush…?” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Wails burst from her lungs, and she turned away, sobbing into her hands. He knew. He just fucking knew that was her guy. The man she’d lost in the war. He scooped her into his lap, holding her as she cried. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Aw, Christ, Finlay. That’s the man I was carrying when I got hit. I tried to save him.”
His mind reeled back to the battlefield, and he fought against the mounting fear, the uncontainable anger that consumed him when he thought of that last battle. And then like he’d stepped in front of a moving vehicle, the realization crashed into him. Jesus, he’d fucking killed Finlay’s guy.
“Ian Aaron Rush, that was his name,” she said through her tears. “He went by Aaron.”
She buried her face in his neck, her tears soaking his skin, her heartache drowning him. He felt sick, needed air. His head fell back, and he gulped long, painful inhalations. He was vaguely aware of her stilling against him, of her hands on his cheeks.
“Bullet. Bullet? It’s okay. You were with him. I always thought he died alone. But you were there.”
Her words flew at him like darts. How could he tell her the truth?
She climbed off his lap with panic in her teary eyes. He sat up on his knees, dragging air into his lungs.
“Bullet, breathe, honey. Breathe. You’re okay. You’re here with me, not back there.”
She put her shaky arms around him, but he broke free and pushed to his feet, the spiky grass poking into his skin. He didn’t care. He deserved the pain. Fuuuck. “It’s not a flashback. It’s the fucking truth of it all.”
Confusion rose in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“I killed him, Finlay. If I hadn’t been carrying him, he wouldn’t have been hit in the chest, and you’d be with your guy right now, not here with the one who killed him.”
Her jaw hung open, her entire body shaking. “No. No, no, no. No, Bullet.”
She pushed to her feet, lifting them in quick succession as she stepped on the prickly grass, and hopped back onto his shirt. Fresh tears tumbled down her cheeks. “Don’t do this. You didn’t kill him. Aaron died of the wound in his leg. It severed his femoral artery. They told his family he had other wounds, but it was the one in his leg that killed him.”
He tried to process what she said, but his head was spinning. “I was there. I looked into his eyes.”
“Yes, which is why I’m so relieved. That’s why I’m crying. His family—I—always thought he died alone on the battlefield. But he didn’t, Bullet. You were with him. You held his hand. You comforted him in the end.” She went to him, but he took a step back in disbelief. “Bullet…why are you doing this?”
He turned away, grabbed his head, and pitched back on his heels, eyes clenched tight against the blazing sun. “Aw, fuck, Finlay.” Could she be right? All these years he’d been sure he’d killed the man. He shook his throbbing head as her hands came around him from behind.
“You didn’t kill him, Bullet. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to us.”
He folded his arms over hers, the weight of her words crashing over him like shattered glass, and he sank to his knees.
“You didn’t kill him,” she said into his ear. “Don’t let his death kill you.”
Tears burned in his eyes as she rested her head on the back of his shoulder, whispering, “I love you. You didn’t do it, Bullet. I promise it’s true. It’s not your fault.”
Struggling against the emotions clawing for release, he inhaled deeply, unwilling to fall completely apart in front of Finlay. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have saved him.”
She came around and climbed into his lap, her arms around his neck, her head on his shoulder, and she held him tight. “Nobody could have saved him out there. But you consoled him. And now you’ve healed the piece of me that was still broken, the one holding on to the image of him alone as he took his last breath. Don’t you see, Bullet? No one could save Aaron, but now that we know this, maybe Aaron can save you.”
“I don’t need saving.”
“Not saving. That’s the wrong word,” she said quickly. “You can give his family the closure they’ve never had, and it might help you move forward and finally leave the guilt of that awful time behind. Ed and Helen Rush live right outside Pleasant Hill, on Mercer Street.”
He closed his eyes, doubting anything would ever ease the guilt that had strangled him since that fateful day. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Of course you can. You’re the strongest man I know.”
Anger erupted inside him like a volcano, abrupt and unstoppable. “Stop it, Finlay. You know what’s at risk for me. I don’t know if seeing his family and relaying what happened out there will slam me back into another flashback, or worse, into full-on PTSD. And if it does, I don’t know who I’ll be if, or when, I come out on the other side.” He tried to lift her off his lap, but she refused to let go.
“I’ll go with you. I’ll help you,” she offered. “You’ve been okay talking to me. Talking seems to help.”
“Goddamn it, Finlay. I just found you! I’m not risking everything for a family I don’t even know.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she swallowed hard. “Bullshit,” she said softly.
The curse hit him like a shotgun round.
“You risk yourself for strangers all the time, and I believe with my whole heart that this will help you as much as it will help his family. As much as it’s helping me. They’re not strangers to me, Bullet, and I wouldn’t ask this of you if I thought I’d lose you because of it. But you’ve obviously been harboring tremendous guilt over what happened out there, and it’s not yours to hang on to anymore. Not now that you know the truth.”
“Finlay…” He’d do anything for her, but this?
“Please think about it for me? For us? I honestly believe it’ll help you let go of that part of your past.”
She climbed off his lap, and they dressed in painful silence. For the first time since he’d been with Finlay, he needed space away from her. He needed to clear his head. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a ravine with Finlay rooted on the opposite cliff and a world of fucked-up nightmares between them.
The drive back to his place was long and cold, and when Finlay climbed off his bike, he took her in his arms and said, “I gotta go ride, baby. Gotta clear my head.”
“I know,” she whispered, and he gathered her in his arms.
“I’m sorry. I want to be the man you need, but I just don’t know who I am right now.”
Several tortured hours later, long after darkness chased away the light of day, Bullet sat in front of the dark house, struggling to make sense of all that he’d learned, needing an anchor to settle him in the dizzying sea of worries.
He pulled out his phone and called Bones, who answered on the first ring.
“What’s up, B?”
“I don’t know, bro. Some shit went down. That guy I was carrying when I got shot was Fin’s boyfriend, man.” His chest constricted.
Bones cursed. Several long moments later, he said, “Where are you?”
“If I fuck this up, if I lose her…” Tears burned in his eyes, and he gripped the phone tighter.
“Bullet, where’s Finlay?”
He glanced up at the house again, pain slicing through him anew. “Keep your phone on.”