CHAPTER NINETEEN
ONE MONTH LATER
LONDON
I leaned forward into the bathroom mirror, carefully brushing mascara over my pale lashes. Outside the bathroom door I could hear Mellie and Jessica arguing about something—the cabin was only about a thousand square feet and I was very, very happy that Melanie would be moving into student housing in a few weeks.
Wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
Loud music started blaring as I brushed my hair, changing abruptly to rap as I smoothed on lipstick. That would be Jessica taking control of the stereo.
It switched back again and I realized a full-on musical battle royale was starting outside the tiny bathroom. Taking one more quick look at myself—not perfect, but I’d do—I stepped out, prepared to start yelling. Before I could, the music stopped completely. Both girls stood in the living room, glaring at each other. Melanie had started standing up to Jessica in recent weeks, something I’d always wished she would do. Now I regretted that wish because I lived in a war zone.
“You’re a f*cking idiot,” Jessica growled. I took a deep breath, prepared to tell her off. Melanie beat me to it.
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I will if it’s true. I saw that letter. He’s just another p-ssy-chasing a*shole, and writing to him in jail is desperate and pathetic. You’re smarter than me, so why don’t you act like it?”
Mellie’s mouth dropped and so did mine.
Then the doorbell rang.
Melanie stomped past me toward their shared room, leaving Jessica standing in the center of the living room, eyes bright with fury. The bell rang again and I decided they were big girls who could figure this out on their own. Grabbing my backpack, I walked over to the door and opened it.
Then I smiled because everything was okay again.
Reese was here.
REESE
Christ, but she was gorgeous.
I took London’s hand and tugged her out onto the porch for my kiss, because I didn’t feel like dealing with whatever girl drama was brewing in the cabin. And there was major drama brewing—after raising Em and Kit, I could f*ckin’ smell that shit in the air.
Fortunately, the sweet softness of London’s lips more than made up for the girls and their games. My hands found her ass, lifting her up and into my body. As always, my cock was as happy to see her as the rest of me.
Rap music blasted out through the window, all but knocking us off the porch. Just as fast it turned off again.
That’s when the screeching started.
“We have to get out of here,” I growled, dragging London toward my fully loaded bike. Being the clever woman she was, she didn’t argue. Let the girls kill each other—this was our weekend, and they weren’t gonna f*ck it up for us.
Five minutes later we were pulling off the road and onto the highway, heading north toward the Canadian border. Over the past month London had gotten more comfortable riding with me, which was great for the most part … Although I sort of missed the way she used to cling to me like her life depended on it. Now she felt comfortable enough to raise her hands, weaving and dancing them through the air as we flew down the road.
Things had been f*cked up and tense for a while when we’d gotten back. Some of it between me and her, but mostly just getting shit settled with the club. Painter and Puck were facing jail time no matter how you looked at it, and of the three brothers lost, one had been from the Moscow chapter, ninety miles south of Coeur d’Alene. He was a good man, and I’d known him more than a decade. London had come down with me for the funeral. Our relationship might be new, but she’d earned no small amount of respect when she killed that Medina f*ck back at the warehouse.
She’d handled herself well at the memorial, too, and afterward more than one brother asked me why she wasn’t my old lady already.
Hard question to answer.
This weekend wasn’t about answering questions, though. It wasn’t about the club, the girls or anything to do with the cartel. Nope, this was about camping out, spending time together, maybe gettin’ my girl drunk and takin’ advantage of her. Perfect.
It was still early by the time we reached my favorite campsite up on the Pack River. Calling it a river was a bit of an exaggeration, at least this time of year. The Pack was fed by snowmelt, and by late summer it wasn’t much more than a foot deep in any given spot. It meandered through a wooded valley, the central channel running across a wide bed of rounded rocks, small sand banks, and waterfalls two or three feet high at most.
Our campsite wasn’t anything particularly special—tucked away off a dirt road, just a little clearing in the trees with a fire pit next to the river. I’d been coming here since I was a kid.
Had to be one of the most gorgeous places on earth. Couldn’t wait to share it with London.
I set up the fire while she rolled out the sleeping bags. Still too early to light it, which was fine because I had other things I wanted to do. And no, I’m not talking about f*ckin’ her, although that was on the list, too.
“You ready for some fun?” I asked, and she smiled back at me.
“What did you have in mind?”
“When’s the last time you shot a Super Soaker?”
She stared at me blankly.
“Water gun, sweetheart. Plastic? Pump it up, water sprays out?”
“I know what they are, Reese.”
“Excellent. I couldn’t carry the big ones on the bike, but the smaller ones are great, too. I’ll give you a head start ’cause you’re new at this.”
With that I pulled out the plastic gun I’d brought for her with a flourish. It was neon orange and green, and it held about two cups of water. More than enough for a good fight, especially since we’d be in the river. Easy to reload.
Her mouth dropped.
“Did you seriously bring me up here for a water fight? I thought this was a romantic weekend?”
I cocked a brow at her.
“Sweetheart, you gotta look at this from my perspective. I shoot right, your T-shirt gets all wet and then I get to roll around with you in the water. Tell me that isn’t romantic?”
London snorted, but I could see a hint of playfulness in her eyes. Yeah, she was on board. I tossed her the gun and turned away.
“You got until I hit a hundred,” I told her loudly. “And you’ll do better if you ditch your shoes. The rocks aren’t sharp but they’re slippery, and there’s lots of places where you can only walk in the water. Now run, unless you want it to be a real short game. Upriver there’s a pool where we can swim, and if you get there before I catch you, you win. If you hit me with your gun, I have to stop and count to ten again. If I hit you, I get a kiss. One. Two. Three. Four …”
Because I’m an a*shole, I stopped at fifty. No reason to make it too easy for her.
Turning toward the river, I looked upriver. Couldn’t see her, which wasn’t a huge surprise. The swimming hole was only about half a mile away, but it took longer to get there than you’d think because of the rocks and the way the Pack twisted around. I leaned down and filled my gun, then pumped it up, ready for action as I started up the river.
Five minutes later I still hadn’t seen her. There were a lot of ways to play the game—if she just booked ahead as fast as possible, she’d probably beat me. But that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, and I knew London.
She wouldn’t be able to resist an ambush.
The first one hit out of nowhere. I’d just come around a bend when cold water slammed me in the side of the head. I heard her laughing hysterically, but I closed my eyes and started counting. Fast. Now I knew she was nearby and I listened carefully for the sound of splashing. When I opened them again, she was still in range, so I lifted my gun and shot her in the back.
She turned toward me shrieking.
“You cheat, you didn’t count to t—”
I shot her in the face before she could finish the sentence, then started toward her through the water. Walking across the smooth, round rocks was awkward, but I have long legs, so it didn’t take long.
“I counted fast,” I told her smugly. “And you owe me two kisses.”
She glared at me, but when I caught the back of her neck and pulled her in to claim my prize, she didn’t protest. After long seconds we broke apart, gasping for air. Her wet shirt clung tightly to her tits.
Outstanding.
Then she leaned forward to kiss me this time. I closed my eyes, savoring the delicate touch of her lips and—
“Holy f*ck!”
Bitch shot me in the cock with her gun, point blank.
London started laughing and took off up the river, shouting back at me.
“You count for real this time, a*shole! Otherwise I’m taking your gun away from you.”
By the time we reached the little pool, both of us were soaking wet, so no real point in keeping our clothes on. It was only about three feet deep and maybe ten feet across, so we couldn’t really swim, either—fine with me. Instead we sort of splashed each other, then wrestled, and then the next thing I knew I was sitting under a waterfall while London rode my cock.
Best. Game. Ever.
Later that night I lay on my back, looking up at the stars, London tucked into my arm, one hand across my chest.
“I wish we could just stay out here forever,” she murmured softly. “Where nobody can find us and we don’t have to do anything. God, the girls are driving me crazy.”
“Mellie will be gone soon,” I reminded her. Above us a star shot by, then then another. “Heather and I used to come up here every year at this time for the Perseids shower. You see that? They’ll be falling all night.”
“Yup, I saw it,” she whispered. “Do you think about her a lot?”
I considered the question, trying to find the right words.
“Sometimes. But I think about you a lot more. After she died I swore I’d never take another old lady. Just couldn’t wrap my head around it, not until now. But it’s right with us, isn’t it? You feel it, too.”
She didn’t answer for a second.
“I feel it, too,” she agreed.
“You ready to make it official?” I asked. She shook her head, rubbing her hair against me. Smelled good.
“Not yet. I know this sounds silly, but let’s keep this ours for a bit longer. Just a little secret we don’t have to share with anyone else. Everyone counts on us all the time and that’s not going to go away … but for now, let’s not give them this.”
I hesitated. I wanted things out in the open, wanted everyone to know London was my woman for real. F*ckin’ proud of her. But I understood, too.
“End of the summer, then? Only about two weeks left, sweetheart.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“How much longer you gonna stay in that tiny little cabin when I got a whole house just waitin’ for you?”
She gave a snort of frustration.
“The day Mellie moves out, I’m packin’ my shit. I’m losing my mind there.”
“What about Jessica?”
“She actually has plans, believe it not. I’m sort of torn about them. I want her with me … but I also know she won’t be happy out at your place. She isn’t ready to get back into life like that just yet. But I’m really proud of her for realizing she has to move forward, make her own decisions.”
“Really? What’s she gonna do with herself?”
“She’s moving in with Maggs Dwyer.”
“Bolt’s old lady?”
“No, Bolt’s ex,” she said firmly. “She’s pretty emphatic about that detail. She runs a program at the community center for special-needs children. Jess has been volunteering there for a couple of years, and she’s decided to enroll in the early-childhood education program down at the college. Maggs is giving her a part-time job and a room to rent. It’s perfect in a lot of ways.”
“Bolt won’t like that,” I mused. “He’s tryin’ to get back with her. Havin’ Jess around won’t make things easier.”
“Not Bolt’s decision.”
Fair enough.
“So two weeks and you’re all mine.”
She nodded, giving a yawn. “Assuming you still want me.”
“F*ck yeah, I want you.”
She made a happy little snuffling noise and we fell silent again. Another meteor streaked overhead. London’s breathing slowed as she drifted off.
Hey, babe, Heather whispered. Remember coming here together? Two little girls snuggled up between us, watching the stars shooting all night? You told them they were people riding up to heaven on rockets.
Yeah, I remember.
I remembered everything, although sometimes I wished I could erase those memories because they hurt so bad. Tonight, though? Tonight they were beautiful.
She’s good for you—this is what I wanted. Someday when Em and Kit have kids, you bring them up here for me, will you? Tell them Grandma Heather’s watching over them … Then tell them Grandma London’s gonna give ’em extra loves, because they’re such special kids they deserve double.
I swallowed. London stirred next to me, and I took in her scent. Clean and fresh, her hair still just a little damp from the river.
I’ll always miss you, I told Heather. But it’s time to let you go.
She didn’t answer.
Another star shot by in the darkness, and London raised her head.
“You okay, Reese?”
“I love you.”
Silence.
“You’ve never said that to me before.”
“Wasn’t ready. I’m ready now.”
“I love you, too.”
She settled back into my body, and I felt right in a way I’d almost forgotten existed. Darkness surrounded us, broken only by the meteor shower. I waited for Heather to say something. Nothing.
Now it was just London and me.
Felt good.