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Jenny opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink and reached awkwardly over the door from her perch on the toilet. She blindly snagged her box of tampons and knew as soon as she lifted it that it was empty. Dammit. Well, she couldn’t blame anyone but herself; she was the only one in the house who used them.

She got down on her knees on the fuzzy bathroom mat and dug back for her emergency stash of maxi-pads. Ugh, she hated feeling that wad between her legs, but it was better than the alternative. She’d have to run by the market first thing.

Once she had her ‘feminine hygiene’ in order, as she washed her hands and finished her morning routine, Jenny let herself consider her feelings about getting her period. Relief, first of all. She’d been nuts to let Maverick come inside her that night at the bar. She’d been running on adrenaline and hero worship, and she hadn’t cared about anything but what the most tender part of her heart wanted—the part that still thought of the life she’d planned with Maverick all those years ago as the life she was ‘supposed to have.’

But that was crap, and her brain knew it. No one was ‘supposed to have’ anything. Life happened. You dealt with what happened or you didn’t. For all the plans people made, nobody had any real control over anything, because nobody could control everything.

She was coming to understand that the best chance for making a life with Maverick was if they both stopped thinking they could undo the past and started thinking about how they would do the present. What had been couldn’t be reclaimed. They needed to figure out what was, and what would be.

So she was relieved that their heady mistake on the floor of The Wayside had not resulted in a pregnancy. They needed no new complications between them. They already had plenty.

But she was disappointed, too, and it did her no good to deny it. If they’d been living the life they’d been planning, Kelsey would likely already have had a sibling, maybe two, by now. Jenny wanted a big family, and so did Maverick. Her biological clock had been jangling at her for a couple of years now, her nesting impulse growing stronger as Kelsey grew older, and she’d always kicked it away, knowing it was hopeless to even think about more kids when she was alone and always would be. Now, though, Maverick was back, and there was hope.

So she was disappointed that there wasn’t a baby coming, and that she hadn’t gotten recklessly pregnant and forced the two of them to reckon with their relationship.

Which was sick and stupid. If they needed something like that to deal with their mess, then maybe that mess wasn’t worth dealing with.

No—not true. Over the past couple of weeks, since that night at the bar, things between them had been good. He respected her need to go slow. She could see him thinking about the way he spoke to her, and managing his impulse to control everything.

They’d had sex one more time since she’d brought him into her bed, and it had again been beautiful. So much about them was good—had been good before and was good now—that if they could fix the things that were broken, it was worth the effort. There was a good life for them in the future, if they both worked for it.

Maverick wasn’t the only one who needed to change. Jenny recognized that she had a hair trigger now and saw him striving to take over even when he was only expressing a different opinion. She’d gone from giving in all the time when they’d been together to making all of the decisions while he’d been away, and Maverick, poor guy, had gotten caught in the middle. Since he’d once controlled her, and he’d still tried, she jumped on him too quickly when he pushed at all.

To his credit, he swallowed his frustration with that. He was trying to be the man she needed. She and Kelsey.

The first problem they needed to sort out was whether each of them was, in fact, the person the other truly needed, or whether they were just stuck in the past.

Today would be a test of that. She was taking Kelsey to the Bulls’ clubhouse that afternoon for a family-friendly party. She hadn’t seen any of the old ladies since a few weeks after Kelsey was born, when Mo had descended on the house and tried to force her ‘help’ on her. That confrontation had not gone well, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was willingly going into enemy territory.

But the club was Maverick’s family, and he was in with them much deeper than normal family ties went. There was no Maverick in her life without the Brazen Bulls. That was even more true now than it had been before. If she couldn’t get right with them, she couldn’t get right with him.

So it was just awesome that she’d started her period, too. Yippee.

––––––––

~oOo~

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When she’d gone to the Sinclair station just before Kelsey’s birthday, the Bulls she’d seen had approached her with open hostility, walking toward her like a united front. When she led her daughter up the front walk to the Bulls clubhouse on this day, Eight Ball stood just outside the door, talking with someone she didn’t know, someone not wearing a kutte, so a hangaround or just a neighbor; the Bulls had always been friendly with most of their neighbors.

Eight Ball saw her and grinned. Jenny didn’t like him—he was ninety-percent asshole and treated women like sex dolls with a pulse, if they were hot enough, like servants, if they weren’t, or like nuns, if they were off limits.

He’d glared at her the night he’d come to the bar with Rad to help deal with her attackers. Now, he stepped away from the man he’d been talking to and came toward her. “Hi, Jenny.” He turned his smile down to Kelsey, “And hello, pretty lady.”

Apparently, she had regained nun status in his eyes. “Hi, Eight. This is Kelsey.”

He crouched before them. “I know. We met the other day, didn’t we?” He held out his hand, palm up, and Kelsey slapped it.

It still bugged her—a lot—that Maverick had brought Kelsey to the clubhouse without telling her first. She wasn’t sure she’d expected him to have asked permission, exactly (okay, yes, that would have been her preference), but she absolutely expected that they would have talked about it first. He knew how she felt about this place. Yes, she’d have to come to terms with the Bulls whether she and Maverick worked out or not, because this was who he was, and she wasn’t going to keep his daughter away from him. But it had been deeply shitty of him to bring Kelsey here behind her back.

Finding out that Kelsey had met Eight, and seemed to like him, dug at Jenny more than she’d admit.

He stood up, still grinning. “Mav’s out back. He’s in the ring with Gunner, so...” he tilted his head toward Kelsey, and Jenny understood. Maverick was fighting. Recreationally. She didn’t need his daughter to see him like that.

“We’ll go in the clubhouse, then.”

Sweeping his arm in a be my guest gesture, Eight Ball stepped out of the way. “The ladies are in there. Mo’s runnin’ the show, like always.”

Mo liked Jenny no more than Jenny liked Eight Ball, and that woman could be perfectly nice and still cut an enemy down to a nub. And nobody was more of an enemy than a woman who’d hurt one of her boys.

Jenny stiffened her spine and locked her smile into place. “Okay. C’mon, Kelsey. I think there are some people still for you to meet.”

Sad to say, she hoped Kelsey would be a shield. How scary could Maureen Delaney be when Jenny had an adorable four-year-old standing at her side?

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~oOo~

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Every concern Jenny had about Mo flew straight out of her mind when she came into the party room and looked at the bar.

There weren’t many people around. A few sweetbutts tottering about in their ridiculous shoes, obviously doing Mo’s bidding. A smattering of hangarounds or neighbors—three teenagers playing on the pornographic pinball machine, a young couple—the guy not wearing colors—standing at the jukebox, a scattered few people watching a Cardinals game on the big television. The weather was good, and there would likely be meat grilling, so most people were probably outside.

Jenny saw all the people in the party room at a glance. When her eyes made it to the bar, she froze. Three women sat in a row, sipping drinks, and she knew them all. None of them was Mo.

Joanna, Dane’s old lady. Maddie, Ox’s.

And Willa.

Willa. The nurse who’d helped her deliver Kelsey.

Jenny would never, ever forget her. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, even sitting in profile, even sitting at the end of the bar in the Brazen Bulls’ party room, the woman was as perfectly familiar as if she’d been her own flesh and blood.

“Willa?”

Willa turned and smiled—not an expression of recognition but of acknowledgement. “Yes? Hi?”

Of course she wouldn’t remember Jenny. Willa probably helped deliver dozens of babies a week, and Kelsey had been born four years ago. That was a lot of babies, and a lot of moms. Jenny had had only one. One baby. One nurse. One life changed.

She strode up to the bar so quickly that she could feel Kelsey trying to keep up. She held out her hand. “I know you don’t remember me, but I love you.”

Willa laughed and shook her hand. Joanna and Maddie laughed, too, but Jenny had no attention for them. “Okay? Wow.” Her eyes then drifted down, and her smile warmed and grew with understanding. “Hi, honey.” She met Jenny’s adoring gaze again. “Did I maybe meet this little sweetheart early on?”

It occurred to Jenny that Willa had likely made a lasting impression on more women than she alone, and she was a little crestfallen at that. It seemed too important a bond to be shared. “Yes. Yes. I was alone when she came, and I was pretty much losing my mind. You stayed with me, and you got me through. You stayed even after your shift was over, and you were back checking on me the next day. You took her first picture and you...” Jenny was going to cry. “You just...you...” Yep, she was totally crying. “Everything was falling apart around me, and I didn’t think I could do it, but you helped me see that I could.” She finally released Willa’s hand, and she bent down and picked up her daughter. “I’m Jenny. This is Kelsey. Kelsey Marie.”

At that, Willa’s eyes widened. She remembered. “I do remember. Oh my God. Well, hi!” She held out her arms, and Jenny brought her daughter into them and held on.

Kelsey squirmed uncomfortably. “Mommy, why are you sad?”

Jenny stepped back and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m not, pixie. I’m just so happy it’s leaking out of my eyes. Miss Willa here helped me have you. She was with me when you came out of my belly. She’s a very special lady.” To Willa, she said, “I’m sorry I’m blubbering. I just...I’m surprised.”

“So am I. How’d you find me here, of all places?”

“I don’t think she was looking for you, Will,” Maddie answered, casting one artfully shaped eyebrow high and giving them both a droll look. “Jenny is Mav’s old lady. This is who we’ve been talkin’ about.”

More than wonder regarding what they’d been talking about, Jenny felt shock that Willa apparently belonged here. If she was sitting with Joanna and Maddie like this, talking like this, in the clubhouse, then she, too, was an old lady. These women observed the club hierarchy like it was a religion, and they were devout. “Wait—are you an old lady?”

Willa smiled. “Yeah. I’m with Rad. For about two and a half years now.”

“Rad?”

All three women facing her, even Willa, laughed hard at that. But Jenny was truly stunned. She could not picture her hero, this pretty, sweet blonde, with that gruff, short-tempered jerk. The old lady she’d known—Dahlia—had been more his style. She’d been loud and dramatic, all big tits and dyed red hair. Brassy with a streak of mean. Jenny had been around for a few of their blowouts. The amused way the Bulls watched the show had been one of the things she thought shitty about the whole club. Other people’s problems should not be entertainment.

“Yeah, Rad. He’s softer than he looks.”

Jenny didn’t bother to point out that she’d actually known the man, a little, and no, he was not softer. But maybe Willa had softened him. She could see that. So she smiled and gave her head a conceding little wiggle. “I heard he had a kid—so that must be yours?”

“Yep. Zach. He’s a year and a half. He’s out back with his dad. Mav’s back there, too.” She slid off her stool. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”

“Hold on, love,” Mo had emerged from somewhere. Probably the kitchen. “Mav’s in the ring.”

“Right. That’s a problem?” Willa turned back to Jenny to ask the question.

“Not for me. Not really, but...” She indicated Kelsey, still in her arms.

“Right,” Willa repeated, this time with a true air of understanding.

“I’ll go get Leah,” Joanna offered. “She can take care of Kelsey.”

“Wait!” Jenny’s head was spinning. She’d been afraid to think too hard about what to expect of seeing the old ladies again, afraid that they’d all hate her, but even the thoughts she’d allowed herself had not remotely gone like this. Willa was a Bulls old lady. It didn’t even matter how Mo or Joanna or Maddie felt, or who this Leah person was, because Willa was in her corner. She had been before, and she would be now.

But Kelsey still didn’t know any of these people. “Kelsey. All these nice ladies are family, just like Eight Ball and all your other uncles. This isn’t Miss Willa, she’s Aunt Willa. And this is Aunt Joanna, and Aunt Maddie, and...Aunt—”

“Zach calls me Grammo. I like it.” Mo’s voice rested on a filament between hostile and welcoming, like the edge of a storm front.

Asking her daughter to call Mo Delaney ‘Grammo’ was a far bridge indeed. Then again, she hadn’t thought twice about Kelsey calling her father Granddaddy, and he was a crap human being. At least Mo was loyal to the people she loved, and loved them fiercely.

“What do you think about having a Grammo, pix?”

Kelsey screwed up her face. “Is that like a Grandma?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t have a Grandma.” She turned to Mo. “Are you nice?”

Mo smiled, warm and sweet as fresh-baked cookies. “I believe I am, love. Are you?”

“I believe I am, too,” Kelsey echoed. “Do you want to be my Grammo?”

Mo came forward and held out her hand. Jenny wasn’t sure, but she thought her eyes sparkled a bit more than normal. “I think I’d like that very much, yes. Would you like it?”

Kelsey put her hand in Mo’s. “Yes, please. Maisie has a grandma and a grandpa, and they’re nice and make me grilled cheeses and pickles. I have a granddaddy, but he only sits and watches television. Do you make grilled cheeses?”

“I do, in fact. I make other things, too. Do you like brownies? I made brownies today.”

“Uh huh. I like brownies and cookies and cake and ice cream and pudding and cookies. I don’t like pie ‘cuz it falls out.”

Mo tossed a question in a glance at Jenny. Understanding, and grateful for the sort-of ask, she nodded, and Mo held out her other hand. “Well, then, let’s get you a brownie. And some milk.”

Kelsey went to her without hesitation. Jenny watched Mo carry her daughter toward the kitchen, chatting sweetly with her. She’d never seen Mo in grandmother mode; it was a side of her she liked. Maybe being part of the Bulls wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Willa put her hand on Jenny’s arm. “C’mon. I’ll go back with you. Maybe Mav and Gun are done beating each other up by now.”

“Was this a fun thing, or a work-out-their-beef thing?” It could also have been a Gun-needs-to-feel-bad thing, but Jenny didn’t know if that was still a thing or, if it was, how much Willa knew about it.

“Just for fun.” Willa laughed. “Because what’s more fun than getting punched in the face?”

Jenny laughed, too. Their men were not like other men.

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~oOo~

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Leah was Gunner’s old lady. Gunner. That train wreck of a human had an old lady. Not old at all—young. By the look of her, maybe still a teenager. But she was wearing a pretty engagement ring, and Jenny could see her ink showing under the neckline of her top.

Gunner had an old lady. Rad had Willa, and a blond little boy he was carrying on his shoulders. Dane and Joanna’s girls were in college now. More than merely the décor had changed in the clubhouse.

Leah and Rad stood almost side by side near the boxing ring in back. Zach, a toddler in tiny jeans and cowboy boots, cheered and yelled when his father did, like he knew what he was watching. Leah cheered, too. She seemed into it, watching Gunner and Maverick trade blows.

The guys were into it as well, and Jenny couldn’t help but smile. She’d never enjoyed watching Maverick fight when he went out to the streets to meet up with shady men in shady places. The rules were slippery in those fights, and the men often beat each other until one simply couldn’t get up anymore. That was hard to watch even though Maverick had usually been the one still standing. But she liked watching him fight here, with his brothers, when they weren’t trying to really hurt each other. They sparred, but without pads, and they laughed and trash talked all through it and always hugged it out at the end.

That had been one of Delaney’s rules, and it probably still held: when brothers fought each other, whether it was play or conflict resolution, they couldn’t leave the ring until they’d hugged it out.

She liked watching fights like this because she didn’t have to worry, and she could simply focus on her man’s amazing body, every muscle tuned to perfection, as he moved about the ring, all grace and fluid motion. The big bull head on his back, still his only ink, twisted and snarled, glimmering in his wet skin.

If Maverick and Gunner had been in the ring since before she and Kelsey had arrived, then they’d been fighting at least fifteen, maybe twenty minutes—and they looked it. Both were soaked in sweat, their bodies red from blows and from exertion.

He hadn’t seen her yet, so she waited for the right time, when a distraction wouldn’t get him flattened, and called out, “Mav!”

He didn’t seem to hear her, but Gunner did and ducked Maverick’s next blow. He held out his taped fist, and Maverick turned. His grin at seeing her glowed brightly in his flushed face.

The men hugged, and they came together to the ropes. Maverick ducked through first.

“Hey, babe.” He pulled her close, and she didn’t resist his sweaty embrace. “You came.”

“I told you I would,” she murmured so only he could hear. He shifted and tucked his head on her other shoulder. “We’ll leave before it gets rowdy, but this is...this is okay. Hey—I started my period this morning.” She wanted to get that out right away, and this was a way to do it almost privately but without chance for a big talk.

He pulled back and stared into her eyes. She could see that he was disappointed, but he smiled again. “When we try again, it’ll be the right time. Not a mistake.”

She nodded and pressed her cheek to his damp chest. That was the best response she could have hoped for.

Willa had gone to Rad and their son when they’d come outside. Now Rad called out, “I hear you and Willa were friends already, Jenny.”

Jenny sent him a sincere smile. She felt better about Rad now. Today, she might even be okay with Eight Ball. Maybe. “Yeah, I guess we were. You’re a lucky man, Radical.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“What?” Maverick cocked his head at her.

“Willa was working when I had Kelsey. She stayed with me and helped me have her. Seeing her here was...bizarre. And wonderful.” There was more she wanted to say about that, but not here, and not now.

“We’ve never talked about her birth.”

No, they hadn’t, but Jenny guessed they would do so soon. Again, however—not here. “We will. You should put a shirt on now, though. Kelsey’s inside with Mo, and she’s been antsy to see you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t bring her out here. I don’t know how to tell her about this.” He nodded toward the ring. Big old Ox was climbing in, and a skinny young guy with short blond hair was taking off his kutte and t-shirt. Ox was older, in his mid or late forties, probably, but he was a massive brick wall of male flesh. That kid was going to get wadded up like tissue paper, even in a friendly spar—and Jenny could see that he knew it. He must have been a prospect, or a new patch, because he was being hazed.

“Go easy on him, Slick!” Simon yelled, laughing.

She turned back to Maverick. “Yeah...we’ll have to figure that out. ‘Daddy likes to punch people’ isn’t exactly in line with the lessons she’s been learning about kindness and peace.”

Maverick laughed—he was really happy, and Jenny caught his vibe. It was good to see him like this: the best of him. She felt good. Standing in the back yard of the Brazen Bulls clubhouse, a place where she’d never been comfortable, she felt happy and warm and welcome. That was weird. But good.

He gave her a smelly squeeze and changed the subject. “So, Kelsey’s with Mo? That go okay?”

“It did. They worked it out that Kelsey would call her Grammo, like Zach does, and now they’re in the kitchen having brownies and milk.”

“That’s great. See? She’s not gonna hold a grudge with you, Jen.”

Jenny wasn’t yet so sure. She’d always been intimidated by Mo, even before, and Maverick knew it. He also knew that she’d had trepidation about meeting her again, and he thought he knew why. He thought it was because she’d pulled away and denied him Kelsey, the reason all the Bulls had been cold to her.

He didn’t know about the last time she and Mo had been in the same room.