“You’re not thinking about giving up, are you?”
Bear, like Truman, was no stranger to physical, or emotional, pain. Bullet was impenetrable, Bones was practical, and Bear? Well, he felt pain for the people he loved as if it were his own. He’d endured emotional battles alongside Tru and his brother, Quincy, when Tru was sentenced to prison, taking the fall for a crime Quincy had committed. And again when Quincy got lost in drugs and disappeared. He remembered each instance with the ache of a fresh wound and had been pummeled anew when he’d learned of the conditions in which Kennedy and Lincoln had been living. This felt like that, only different. His gut was on fire, and for the second time in his life—the first being when his father had been in the hospital, his life hanging by a thread—his heart hurt like a motherfucker.
“When have you ever known me to give up on anything?” he finally answered. He’d sent Crystal a text this morning—Bear—hoping her radio silence didn’t mean what he thought it did. She hadn’t responded.
Tru cocked a smile. “There was that time when I was kicking your ass in darts.”
“Shit.” Bear laughed as he set Harley in the cat bed with two of the other kittens and they locked up the shop.
“I knew you were in deep when you told me you went to a fabric store.” His eyes danced with mischief. “Dude, she probably lost all respect for you.”
Bear wrenched his arm like he was going for a punch, and Tru fell right into the fake fight game they’d played too many times to count. Laughing, Bear patted his buddy’s shoulder and walked him to his truck.
“Kiss those babies for me, will you? I didn’t get much time with them today. And thanks again.”
“For what?” Tru asked. “Giving you shit?”
Bear pulled his keys from his pocket and straddled his bike. “For hooking up with Gemma and introducing me to Crystal.”
“You can’t blame this shit on me.” Tru shook his head as he climbed into his truck.
“Sure I can.” He started the bike and pulled on his helmet, waving as Tru drove away. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. Crystal’s name flashed on the screen and his pulse raced as he read the text.
I’m sorry about last week. I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now. Maybe we can talk this weekend?
“Fuck that.” He sent off a response. Where are you? I’ll come over now.
His phone vibrated seconds later. I can’t. I’m at Harbor View in a meeting.
Can’t wasn’t in Bear’s vocabulary. He shoved his phone into his pocket and took off.
He was good at biding his time. He’d been doing it for months. But standing outside Harbor View Professional Park waiting for Crystal made him antsier than a turkey on Thanksgiving. He paced the parking lot, wondering what type of a meeting she had in the medical office complex. As he mentally siphoned through possibilities, the front doors opened and Crystal stepped outside. His heart went wild as he headed in her direction, watching as she felt her pockets. For her keys? Her phone? The doors opened again and a tall man in dress pants and a stark white button-down ran after her, holding up her bag. Bear gritted his teeth as she took it—and embraced the guy.
“I WAS JUST looking for my keys. Thanks, David.” Crystal hugged the man who had stuck with her for years, helping her get through the most traumatic events of her life.
“I’m here if you need me,” he assured her.
His eyes sailed over her shoulder just as Bear’s deep voice penetrated the air. “Crystal.”
She turned, happiness bubbling up inside her. It took all her willpower to remain where she stood and not run to him. He looked rough and rugged in a pair of grease-stained jeans and a tight T-shirt, like he’d come straight from work. His eyes, which had haunted her dreams, were soft and hard at once. He was beautifully intimidating, eating up the pavement between them, his face a mask of strength and determination as he staked his claim with a kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, sugar.” He lifted his chin toward David in a show of pure alpha dominance. “How’s it going?” he said gruffly.
Lord help her. She felt herself smiling like a fool. She’d thought she’d lost him, and she’d longed for the assumptive, handsy man all frigging week.
“Fairly well, thanks.” David glanced at Crystal.
She nodded. Yup. This is the guy who has me tied in knots. Between the possessive look in Bear’s eyes and the newfound freedom stirring inside her, she fumbled for words. “I…um…Bear…”
David extended his hand. “David Lantrell. I’m an old friend of Crystal’s.”
Bear shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
She went for levity to break the tension. “Now that we’re past that awkward stage, thanks again for seeing me on such short notice, David. I’ll be in touch.”
David made a quick exit, which she was thankful for.
“Before you ask,” she said to Bear, “I’m ready to tell you what’s going on, but not here. Do you mind if we go someplace else to talk?”
“Thank fucking God, because there’s only so much shit a guy can take before he loses his mind.” He motioned toward his bike. “Climb on.”
“I’m not getting on that thing.”
“Why not?”
“You just want me wrapped around you.” Old habits died hard. She’d done such a good job of selling herself as a hard-core biker chick, she knew he thought she had experience riding on a motorcycle.
His lips quirked up. “And that’s bad because…?”
He had a point. Wasn’t that the reason she’d gone to see David? She glanced at the bike. I guess this is as good a place to start as any.
Inhaling a lungful of courage, she said, “You’ll have to show me how to ride.”
Goose bumps chased anxiety around her chest like a mouse in a maze, but she’d expected that. David had warned her. Nothing about tonight was going to be easy. But she wouldn’t know what to do with easy anyway.
A deep V formed between Bear’s brows. “Come again?”
“You have to teach me to ride. Now shut up and do it, or I’ll change my mind.”
He ran his eyes over the Harley-Davidson logo on her shirt, down the length of her black skinny jeans, to her chunky black leather biker boots.
I know. I have a lot of explaining to do. “Forget it. I can drive.” She took a step toward her car.
He took her hand in his, walking toward the bike. “Are the eight piercings in your ear fake, too?”
“Maybe if you’re not an ass I’ll let you find out.”
He placed his hands on her hips, tipping his face down with a serious expression. “Are you nervous?”
She opened her mouth to give him her usual snappy retort, and stopped herself. “There’s nothing between me and the road. There are no airbags. It’s freaking scary as shit.”