Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)



It had been an amazing year. After I had been rescued from the clutches of my psychotic and decidedly evil ex-husband, things hadn’t exactly been happy ever after. It worked well for the Disney princesses, but not in real life. Things like nightmares and flashbacks plagued me for quite a while, even though every night I was safe in Zane’s arms. Zane was battling with wounds that weren’t visible like my broken bones. He spent every moment he could making sure I was okay, I think to remind himself. His eyes were tortured more often than not, and his clipped phrases and silence came back from a time. But I knew something that never wavered were his feelings for me. For Lexie. I knew he had to fight the rest of his demons off, once and for all, so I just gave him time. Tried not to get pissed off when he treated me like a doll about to break and damn near put a tracking device in Lexie’s car. The one he bought for her.

“You bought her a car?” I said in the quiet, dangerous voice Zane should have realized meant he had to tread carefully. Very carefully.

We were standing in the driveway of our house, watching Lexie and of course Killian, drive away in her new Ford Focus. That was after she let out a little squeal, hugged Zane, kissed my cheek and ran off to go for a test drive.

“Yep,” was all he answered, following the car with his eyes.

I turned to him. “And you think buying my daughter a car without telling me is okay?” I asked in the same tone, since he didn’t seem to catch it before.

Now that the car was out of sight, he turned to me, his face blank.

“Yep,” was all he responded.

“Yep?” I repeated in disbelief. “You cannot speak in monosyllables in order to provide an explanation,” I informed him, putting my hands on my hips. “Buying Lexie something like, I don’t know, a new pair of shoes without talking to me is fine. Go for it. Only if you get some for me too—size nine, by the way,” I sidetracked myself. “A car, however, or anything that has a motor or a price tag over a couple hundred bucks, that denotes a discussion. You can’t just prance around and go on a car buying spree,” I proclaimed, waving my hands. My fresh, new, cast-less hands.

Zane’s hands went to my hips, pushing my hands from them. Even when we were arguing, which wasn’t often, he needed full contact. I both loved and hated this. I hated it, because more often than not, it distracted me and I lost my train of thought. I loved it because it was Zane touching me. What’s not to love? “Wildcat,” he started with an even tone. “Buying one car does not constitute a spree. Lex needed a car. A safe, reliable car. So I got her one,” he said, no nonsense. “And when in fuck’s name have I set foot in any place that would sell shoes for you and Lexie?” he grumbled, eyes twinkling slightly. “’cept maybe the Harley store, and tell you what, Wildcat,” he murmured, pulling me tighter to his body. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you in motorcycle boots. Nothing but the boots,” he continued, nuzzling my neck.

I let out a little breath, my hands involuntarily going around his neck. His mouth moved closer to mine, and his hand squeezed the cheek of my ass. Right on the doorstep for the world to see. And I didn’t even care. But I knew the moment he made it to my mouth it would be over. My mind would be overcome by his body on mine and I’d let him buy Lexie a thousand cars.

I pulled back slightly, frowning. “Don’t distract me like that,” I scolded, slightly breathless. “I need to finish.”

Zane sighed. “Nothing to finish, babe. Car’s bought. It’s done. Can’t undo it,” he declared.

I pursed my lips. He was right.

“You are mine,” he continued, tracing my jaw lightly. “Lexie is mine. I take care of both my girls.”

As much as such a statement warmed my heart, I couldn’t help but protest. “But I can afford it now, with Steve and Ava’s money. That’s what they would have wanted,” I told him, ignoring the stab of hurt that came with mentioning their names.

“For years, babe, I’ve had nothing to spend my money on. No one to take care of. So I’ve amassed a bit of it,” he explained.

I knew he wasn’t destitute, considering he had demanded to take over the mortgage when he moved in. I had already paid off the mortgage with a chunk of Steve and Ava’s money, along with a good amount of my student loan. I had foiled him at that turn. But he did insist on paying for pretty much everything, much to my disdain.

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