Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC #8) - Anne Malcom Page 0,110

a long day. The kids had been running around, eating, enjoying the company of their extended family.

But they were getting that sleepy look that any parent could see. Apparently, Kace saw it too.

“Yes, we need to go,” I agreed, leaning into him slightly because tequila made me forget I was supposed to be easing into this.

I caught Mia’s eye, and she grinned stupidly, giving me two thumbs up. I couldn’t help but grin stupidly back at her.

Because I was happy. Stupidly so.

We got the kids home, fed them a snack because they’d eaten junk at the barbeque all day. They went to bed easily, tired as they were. It was getting to the point that they were used to Kace being there. Being part of the nighttime routine. The morning routine too.

They knew nothing of the potential danger their mother was in. I planned to keep it that way. So it was better that they thought Kace was here because we were together—though I hadn’t exactly had that talk with them—than he was protecting me from an unknown psychopath.

The club was on high alert. Kace had made his visit to Edmond. I hadn’t tried to stop it. Knew I couldn’t. Plus, Edmond deserved something, for thinking it was okay to put his hands on a woman. I thought I had reacted pretty well when Lauren told me she’d seen him at the café with one hell of a shiner.

Kace had bruises on his knuckles after the visit. I hadn’t asked about them.

Beyond Edmond, they had no leads on who might’ve been after me. There wasn’t exactly a long list of people with active grudges against the Sons. Sure, we had enemies, but none stupid enough to pull this kind of shit. None cowardly enough either.

We had a brand-new security system installed. Top of the line, according to Wire. Kace, or whoever was with me at the time, did a walk-through of the house before we entered. A prospect on me whenever I left the house, when I went grocery shopping or did anything. I carried a gun in my purse too.

But I wasn’t scared. Wasn’t going to stop living my life. Stop moving forward. Over the years, I’d learned how to carry on, despite whatever was brewing with the club.

“You have fun today, babe?” Kace asked, opening the fridge for a beer.

I was leaning against the breakfast bar, a beer of my own in hand. I’d sobered, putting the kids to bed, but I really liked the idea of tipsy sex with Kace.

“I had a lot of fun today,” I replied honestly.

Something moved in his face, something intense. A glimpse into the feelings he had for me maybe. Then again, he’d made never made qualms about hiding that. How much he wanted to be in my life. In my kids’ lives.

“I’m glad, Lizzie,” he said, voice quiet.

“We’re public now,” I proclaimed. Then I thought of my mother-in-law, my parents, still ignorant to my new relationship. My stomach lurched at that thought. “To the club, at least.”

“You feel okay about that?” he cocked his head, waiting for my reply.

I nodded slowly. Sure, there were a lot of feelings I still had to wade through. And I still hadn’t let him in, not fully, not yet. But I was trying. “I think I am.”

“No less than five women have threatened to gut me ‘medieval style’ if I hurt you,” he shared.

I raised my brow. “That didn’t scare you off?”

“Oh, it scared me plenty. Since I knew that none of them were speaking in any kind of metaphorical way. But scare me off?” He shook his head. “I’m definitely brave enough to face the wrath of your protective friends. Mostly because I have no intention of hurting you.”

“No one ever usually intends to hurt people,” I countered. “Not in relationships, at least. But it tends to happen, one way or another. Romantic entanglements are nothing but pain and suffering with orgasms in between to distract you.”

Kace made a choking sound, as I said that just as he’d taken a pull of his beer. He coughed and thumped on his chest before recovering. “Well, that’s certainly one way of putting it. A little jaded.”

I gave him a look. “Honey, I’m forty and already a widow with two kids and some unknown person trying to kill me. I think I’m entitled if not required to be a little jaded.”

“I can’t disagree with you there,” he replied, stepping forward. My stomach dipped at his closeness. At