Fear the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #2)

“That’s why you stopped so far down the driveway that day you dropped me off…because you couldn’t get that close to him.”

“Right,” he murmured. “Well, the restraining order expired years ago, but I’ve kept my distance to respect him.”

“What would happen if my father were to come into the ER. How does that work if you’re there, working?” I questioned.

“When the restraining order was still active? Not a clue,” he admitted. “When I saw him in a store, I left. That’s what I was always told to do…something I follow even now.”

“What made you stop being that asshole you keep speaking of?” I finally worked up the courage to ask.

He smiled.

“Stone.”

My head tilted to the side.

“The officer who was killed?” I clarified. “The president of your MC?”

He grinned and nodded.

“Your father made Stone enforce the law, and Stone caught me being a dumbass,” his smile widened. “He helped me pull my head out of my ass and forced me to pretty much be his bitch.” His smile was wide and blinding as the memory played out in his head. “Worked my ass off for that man. Got my shit together. Finished school. Prospected. Got my patch. Then I went into the Marines.”

The happiness on his face as he talked about Stone was bittersweet and hurt my heart. I hated that he was no longer here, especially when it was clear what an impact he’d had on Tommy, if the way he was talking about him was anything to go by.

“I’ll talk to my dad.”

He placed his free hand that wasn’t holding Tallulah to his chest on my exposed thigh.

“Don’t.”

It was a short, sharp demand that had me jumping in surprise.

“Why not?” I stiffened.

“Because once we can make this official, I’ll talk to your dad. It has to be me who fixes this, and I’ll get there with him, Tally. I promise.”

I could see the sincerity in his eyes and knew he would do whatever it took.

This big, bad, tattooed biker who belonged to a motorcycle club was going to grovel to my father. The thing is… I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.





Chapter 20


Coffee—because fuck waking up. Fuck mornings. Fuck going to work. Fuck dealing with people.

-Tommy’s secret thoughts

Tommy

The phone rang, startling me from my sleep.

I turned, started to snatch the phone up, and realized it wasn’t my phone, but Tally’s.

We’d been asleep maybe three hours, because after our deep discussion on the couch, Tallulah had started to throw up again—and I’d decided that she’d needed to have a few tests run.

First, I wanted to make sure she wasn’t dehydrated. And second, I wanted to make sure there wasn’t something more serious wrong.

We’d taken her to my clinic, where I checked her ears and then swabbed for the flu and strep before deciding that what she had was a simple stomach bug.

I started her on some IV fluids—which, by the way, was the worst feeling ever, starting an IV on a little baby who just wanted you to hold her and didn’t understand why I was holding her down and forcing something sharp into her skin—she instantly began to bounce back to her normally happy self.

Once she was rehydrated by the IV fluids and after some nausea meds that calmed her stomach, she was finally able to sleep.

So were we.

Needless to say, having the phone ring at four o’clock in the morning did not put me into a good mood.

In fact, I was right pissed once I saw who it was.

“Hadley,” I murmured as I unplugged the phone and passed it over to Tally who was up on her elbow in the bed beside me.

Her feet were tangled with mine, but her body was rolled and twisted sideways, giving me a nice view of her ass.

“Thanks,” she murmured huskily. “Hello?”

Barely a few second into the conversation, Tally tensed.

“No, I cannot come and get you, Hadley. Tallulah’s sick and has been throwing up all night. She’s exhausted, and I can’t take her out to come pick you up,” Tally’s tired voice sounded. “Have you tried Elba?”

Hadley screamed something at Tally through the phone, and I distinctly heard the word ‘bitch’ before I took the phone from her grasp and hung up on her screeching.

Turning it on silent, and ignoring Hadley’s return call, all the while under the watchful eye of Tally.

“Nothing to say?” I asked her carefully.

She shook her head.

“It’s time,” she murmured. “I’m tired of hearing how I never put her first.”

I clenched my teeth.

“Putting your daughter first isn’t selfish, and I don’t want you to think that it is.”

She shrugged. “I know.”

I studied her carefully, then nodded, reaching over to turn out the lamp I hadn’t even realized that I flipped on.

“Good,” I grumbled. “Now, let’s get some sleep before we have to go meet my mom and sisters for breakfast…you’re going to want your wits about you when you do.”

She curled her body into mine, and I opened my arms to pull her closer by wrapping them around her lower back.

“Are they going to like me?” she asked worriedly.

I rolled and pinned her underneath me.

“I like you, that’s what matters,” I informed her. “They’ll come around, or I won’t be spending any more time with them.”

She stared at me with such concentration that it caused me to nearly smile.

Nearly.

I could tell she was wondering the same thing about me. If her parents didn’t like me, would she be able to ask them to stop coming around?

“I won’t ever force you to make that choice,” I told her, reading her thoughts before she could voice to them. “I promise.”

Her smile was small, but she didn’t disagree or agree.

“G’night,” she murmured softly.

I pressed my lips to her forehead before I rolled back over and laid my head down on my pillow, my eyes closing in contentment.

The woman that I was falling hard for was in my arms.

What more could I ask for?





***


“See, that’s the problem with Tommy,” Ellen said. “He would never be a good debater.”

“Why?” Tally asked. “He’s good at arguing with me!”

Ellen gave Tally an ‘aren’t you so cute’ look.

“Masturbator, yes, he was the freakin’ King of Masturbation. But a debater…no. Why? Because he starts every argument he’s ever had with anybody but you, I’m sure, with ‘now listen here, motherfucker.’”

I snorted, covering my face up with my fist that was still holding my beer.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ellen,” I grumbled. “Where the hell do you get this stuff? And how much have you had to drink?”

Ellen’s face was lit with humor.

“I’ve been drinking since this morning when you brought Tally to meet our mother. I haven’t stopped since.”

“That sounds like him,” Seanshine agreed, ignoring Ellen.

“Why are you even here?” I asked him curiously.

He shrugged. “I was invited.”

My browns rose. “You were?”

“Yes, he was,” Ellen broke in. “Now shut up. It’s my birthday. You have to do what I say.”