too much. Something had snapped, and I’d just stopped giving a fuck about much of anything. Right then and there, with that kid and his mom both, I felt.
Anger, confusion, disbelief, humor, warmth, and with his mom, desire.
The overriding of all of them at that moment was hellfire rage. I wanted to find the man who’d turned his back on a precious family and beat him bloody with my bare hands. Instead, I moved to the extra fridge that I kept in the garage for beer and stuff and pulled out a soda, handing it over to the kid and before grabbing two more and passing those over as well.
I crammed the extra battery in the toolbox and closed it, tucked the drill under my arm and picked up the toolbox with that hand, hit the garage door button with my other elbow, and led the way back across the street.
We’d made it to the front porch when I heard bikes approaching. I stopped and waited as they pulled into the drive and killed their engines, both prospects, Faro and Saint, and the brother and club sergeant at arms, Scratch, with his pink-haired beauty of an old lady riding behind him.
There was no telling why they’d come along, but since I was jumping in with both feet on helping the sexy blonde and her son out, it would probably be better with another female to make it a little less uneven.
Nate watched the bikes pull up and gaped when the group approached on foot, Maisie leading the way. She came straight to me, wrapped her arms around me, even as I struggled to hold onto my load, and pressed a kiss to my cheek, then as was her way, she flounced over to Nate and shoved her hand out, saying, “Hey, cutie! I’m Maisie; who’re you?”
Nate’s cheeks went bright red as he fumbled the cans and tried to put his hand out. He thought better of it, rubbed his palm against his thigh, and held out his hand to shake hers. I was a little proud of him when his voice didn’t shake, even though the hot chick was smiling at him playfully, and that was enough to embarrass any teenage boy. “Hey, I’m Nate.” He gulped, and I fought to keep my lips from twitching.
Reagan walked out then and managed to mostly hide her shock at seeing bikers, smiling questioningly at me. Maisie moved to her, so I hurried the introductions, “Reagan, this is Maisie; she belongs to the big blond-headed asshole coming up the steps. He’s Scratch. And these two are Faro and Saint.”
She waved and looked flustered but kept it together. She and her kid were cool as cucumbers, even though they had no idea what was happening. Maisie made it to her and held out her hand again, saying, “Pleased to meet you, Reagan! This is so cool. When the boys said Chops needed help putting shit together, we just came along for the ride and to hang, but this is way cooler. We’re the freaking calvary!”
Scratch studied me in a way I knew I’d be answering questions or dodging his pain in the ass comments shortly, then leaned out and stretched out his hand to Nate. “Sup, kid? I hear you have some work on your hands.”
Nate grinned, stood just a bit taller, and shook back firmly, saying, “Yes, sir, and we sure do appreciate the help.”
Maisie looked at me, and her eyes went round as she rocked up on her toes twice in excitement. Faro snorted, and Saint chuckled while I shook my head at her antics. Scratch, used to Maisie’s kind of crazy, just grinned. I cleared my throat and stepped in. “I called in some reinforcements, didn’t get a chance to warn you. With all of your shit still in boxes, you guys are never going to get into your beds tonight.”
Reagan looked at me in a way I liked a whole lot and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
Reagan
I looked around in shock several hours later. Everything was done. As in, everything. There was nothing left to do, and I’d been dreading the fact that it would be days, certainly, but more than likely, weeks before everything was situated.
But nope. My hot as hell badass biker neighbor swooped in and made all of my problems disappear. Well, not all, but at least the major ones.
Half an hour ago, I’d put in an order for several large pizzas, and the prospects had been