Wild Like the Wind (Page 58)

“That would not be the optimal scenario.”

He sounded like he was smiling when he said, “No. It wouldn’t. So stay cool, mama. This is gonna be the easy part. The awesome part. Don’t make it hard. We got enough of that on the horizon.”

“Awesome, Shep. Thanks so much for reminding me of that,” I muttered.

That was when I heard another man in my life chuckling over the phone.

Waking up alone in my bed for nearly eighteen years, I’d felt like I’d done it a loser. It wasn’t until I clapped eyes on my boys every day that I knew that wasn’t exactly true.

Hearing first Dutch, then Hound laughing in my ear in the expanse of about five minutes, I knew now I was a total winner.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m a badass biker bitch. Of course I’m good,” I answered.

That had him howling with laughter.

Yep.

I was a total winner.

“See you around five thirty, six. Yeah?” he asked.

“Sounds good, babe. See you then.”

“Right, baby.” Soft and sweet. And softer and sweeter, “Love you.”

I blinked.

I slowly opened my mouth.

But I heard the tone that said he’d disconnected.

Love you.

Had he disconnected because he realized he’d said that?

Love you.

Or had he said it because it was so natural to say it, he just disconnected.

Love you.

He loved me.

Hound loved me.

I knew he loved me but he just told me.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

I pulled my phone from my ear, my finger poised to dial Bev, and then I realized I could not.

“Shit,” I hissed.

“All good?” I heard asked and looked at one of the teachers sitting at another table in the staff lounge having his lunch.

Keith Robinson.

He was one of the ones I really liked, but I didn’t know all that well (that last part being how I knew all of them). He seemed totally cool. The kids adored him. I even had one hardcase who skipped school but came back just to hit his class.

“My new man just told me he loved me for the first time,” I blurted.

Okay, I couldn’t believe I just blurted that.

But Hound just told me he loved me.

I had to tell somebody!

Keith’s entire handsome face lit with a smile.

“Right on,” he replied.

“He’s loved me for eighteen years.” I thought on that and added, “Maybe longer.”

Keith’s brows drew together. “That took a while to say.”

“I was married to his brother. He died.”

“Sorry,” Keith murmured. “Rough. Really sorry, Keely.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” I told him.

“I’m seeing it’s not that easy for him to make that play, your husband was his brother,” Keith remarked.

He could say that again.

“They were biker brothers,” I explained. “They belong to the same motorcycle club.”

Somehow, he completely got it. “Right then, probably really not easy for him to make that play.”

“The Club doesn’t know yet,” I shared.

“Likely strategizing that communication is akin to planning the raid when they found Osama Bin Laden,” he joked.

“You got that right,” I agreed.

He gathered his sandwich, bag of chips and drink and moved to my table.

“Know a guy in a club,” he shared once he’d settled. “Good man. Good club. What I know is that kind of brotherhood is a deeper one than any. If your man loves you, they’ll want him to have that and they’ll come around.”

“I hope so,” I muttered, looking at my burrito and thinking maybe I should pack my lunch because Keith’s mammoth homemade shaved roast beef sandwich looked way better than my microwave burrito.

“You doubt it?” he asked.

“My man, my husband, I mean, he was, well . . . he was more beloved than most by those guys.”

“And your new man, they’re not fond of him?” Keith teased.

“Graham, my old man, he was the glue of the Club. Shep, my new old man, he’s their shield.”

“Sounds like you have good taste,” he replied.

I gave him a small grin. “Yeah, I totally do.”

“It’s gonna be fine, Keely,” he said gently. “And just to say, don’t know you all that well, but do know the woman I find myself separated from during lunch a lot of the time for, I don’t know the last four or five years, is not the woman I’m sitting with today. So I’m thankful to this Shep for pulling out the woman who’d reach across that separation to me finally and give me a bit of yourself. It’s an honor. Thank him from me.”

“Oh my God.” I stared at him. “Now you are gonna make me cry.”

He looked concerned. “You’ve been crying a lot recently?”

“I’ve been grieving my dead husband for nearly two decades, let my life slip away, then decided to take a shot on jumpstarting that life, doing it with Shep. Lost a woman who came to mean a lot to me in the expanse of a weekend. She died in her sleep last Monday. Almost lost Shep because I was playing to win but I failed to tell him the booty was me. And tonight, we’re telling my sons, who he helped me raise, that they finally got the stepdad they always knew was just that, we’re just making it official.”

“So you’ve been crying a lot recently.”

“Yeah, or on the verge,” I confirmed.

“Let those tears loose, Keely,” he advised. “Because I’m thinking those days are gonna be over for you soon so you might as well let them out when they come now. When the reasons for them disappear, you can look back at them fondly.”

“Stop being awesome,” I demanded.

“That might be tough but I’ll give it a shot,” he returned, lips twitching.

He bit into his delicious-looking sandwich.

I bit into my floppy, tired-looking bean burrito.

Once I swallowed, I asked, “Who’s the guy you know and what club is he in?”

“His name is Carson, goes by Joker in the club. And it’s Chaos, the men behind that custom car and bike business and auto supply store on Broadway.”

That got him a huge smile. “That’s my man’s Club.”

And I got a return huge smile. “Then maybe we’ll see you at a hog roast. Joker has been asking us to come for months. But my wife and I had a new baby and she wasn’t wanting to get a sitter. But the time is coming she needs to give Dora some space, and get some herself, so maybe we’ll see you at one.”

“I hope so,” I replied. “And I contributed to the pot when it went around to get you a baby gift. Was so happy for you guys. Everyone was.”

“Not as much as us,” Keith told me.

“Yeah. Kids are da bomb.”

“They absolutely are.”

We talked about Dora. We talked about Dutch and Jagger. And when our lunch breaks were done, Keith walked me back to my office before he went to his classroom.

I watched him go, thinking that suddenly, I had a new friend and we had something in common.

And oddly enough, that was kids . . . and Chaos.

I’d worked there years, but also when I was in my other jobs, when I was volunteering, when I was at school, and just in life, I had not opened myself to making a new friend since Black died.