Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,23

the two of them developing a friendship or a relationship or whatever was happening. Routine and community were the things that had kept me away from the MC after I got out.

Lucky Dog was my family now. Which was even more clear to me after seeing those three Devils members on the beach outside Luna’s office. In twenty years, I’d only seen them three times—always briefly. I didn’t recognize the guy who’d waved at me. They weren’t dumb—we were surrounded by security on that beach. But I’d felt an unspoken message: we’re watching you.

I’d shaken it off. Or tried to. This was always the game with them. My parents were expert emotional manipulators, as a court social worker had said once. But last night I’d woken from a nightmare with fractured images. Bars. Tight spaces. Not enough room to breathe.

“What’s that?” I asked Jem, dismissing the memory.

“Vegan cookies,” she said. She handed one to Wes. “Happy one-year anniversary of getting out.”

Wes actually blushed. “Aw, man. Thanks, Jem.”

“Any time.” She bit into a cookie. Grinned. “I technically made these for Luna and I’m nervous as fuck. Just like you are, Beck.”

“I’m not nervous,” I scowled. It was Tuesday, Luna’s first volunteer day.

Luna suddenly shoved the trailer door open and I jumped so hard everyone around me startled with my spontaneous motion—I accidentally knocked over two empty coffee mugs as Wes threw a stack of mail in the air.

“Good afternoon, new coworkers,” Luna said, twirling around as she strode toward the front desk.

“Um… hello,” I grumbled, kicking the mugs out of the way and scooping up the envelopes. Why was my heart beating this fast?

Luna was wearing a tank top and colorful yoga pants, hair in a high bun. Normal, I guess. But her running shoes looked more expensive than my motorcycle.

“Are these cookies?” she asked Jem.

“I baked them for you,” Jem said. She slapped a hand over her face. “Goddammit, that sounded stalker-ish.”

“No way, girl,” Luna said, waving a hand. “We’re coworkers now. You don’t have to feel weird. Also I love cookies. How did you know?”

Jem shrugged, bit her lip. Luna stuffed two cookies into her mouth and gave Jem a double thumbs-up.

“If these cookies were a woman, I’d marry them,” Wes said. Luna laughed and Jem looked absurdly pleased with herself.

I made a mental note that Wes needed a few dating tips from Elián and me.

Not that I had much advice to share.

Luna finally spun on her heels and saw me.

“Hey there,” she said.

“How many camera crews do you have with you today?” I asked.

“Only my usual ten,” she said. “On a scale of one to grumpy, what are you today?”

“At least a five,” Jem interjected.

“Don’t you have kennels to clean?” I said. But I took one of her cookies and bit into it. “These are delicious.”

“Thanks, boss.” Jem swept out the door, taking Wes with her.

“So a five, huh, boss?” Luna asked, dark eyes twinkling.

“Don’t call me boss,” I said.

14

Beck

“How have things been?” I asked, walking Luna into our large training field. That morning I’d read an article about her in The Miami Herald. It was an opinion article, written by another local businessman. It had not been nice.

“Not great,” she said. “Which I didn’t really expect. I thought a fast and open apology would take the worst of it. But Wild Heart stock crashed again today. Remember those comments I told you I’d made back in my twenties?”

“The ones about non-vegans?”

“The very same,” she continued. “They’re being dredged up and used against me. I had really hoped everything would be, I don’t know, dissolved after a day. But that was probably extremely naïve of me.”

I looked over at her, saw her shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Luna.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Besides, I feel better already, being here.”

“Here?” I asked.

“It feels really happy at Lucky Dog. Don’t you think?”

I looked around—saw all of our fucked-up shit. It was hard to see it any other way. This place was being held together with duct tape.

“You think showing people what you’re doing here will get us more money?”

“And improve my reputation,” she said, crossing her fingers. “I mean, I hope.”

Luna was staring out at our giant space. I thought about the fury of the protesters, the nasty comments about her online. If I was in her situation, how far would I go to get my perfect reputation back?

“Luna,” I said.

“Yes?” she asked cheerfully.

“Don’t…” I stubbed at the ground with my boot. “Don’t market us for pity. I’m serious.