Page 48 of Legacy

“Guess you’re right.” I chuckle.

Reagan walks forward, sitting beside me on the bed. There’s enough of a gap that I can breathe, but her perfume wafts through the air as she pulls her hair back.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you trying to keep this world separate from Bea. I respect it.” Her thick lashes sweep down as she glances at the floor. “But I think at some point, you’re going to have to reconcile the different sides of yourself. Because I’m not having trouble putting the halves of you together, but I get the feeling you are.”

I swallow hard as she blinks up at me. “Bea didn’t deserve to be born into a world like this.”

Reagan reaches for my hand on the bed, planting her palm over the back of it.

She’s warm.

She’s light.

She’s the sun breaking over the horizon after the storm.

“Maybe this is exactly what she deserves, Jesse. A father who loves her—who will protect her with all he has. A club that will go to the ends of the earth to make sure she is cared for and protected regardless of what happens. I think you keep waiting for the two sides of your life to split you apart. But you’re all of it, and Bea sees and understands that more than you think. She worries when you’re late because she senses there’s danger in what you do, but she’s never scared because she knows she’s safe with you.”

“She said that?”

Reagan offers a half-hearted smile. “She doesn’t have to. To her, you’re just Dad. She’s not judging you like you judge yourself. She’s a smart cookie, after all.”

I have a thousand thoughts battling, but all I can say is, “Thanks for looking out for my girl.”

“Of course.”

Her fingers rest over mine as she keeps the space between us. Everything about Reagan is a bad idea.

She’s strings, and I’m the scissors.

She’s perseverance, and I’m ruin.

My room at the clubhouse is usually stale and empty, but she fills it with the scent of honey and summer rain. Daisies blooming.

“I should let you get back to your date.” She pulls her hand away, snapping my brain back into focus.

“My date?” My eyebrows pinch, and then I realize she’s talking about the blonde who’s been standing around me all night. “She’s not my date.”

“Whatever you call them.” She pops up to stand. “I’m not judging you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I should probably say something comforting so she stops looking at me like I’m a fuckboy or a piece of shit, but she’d just see through it.

So I opt for the truth instead. “Fucking is easy when anything more risks letting another woman break Bea’s heart.”

She nods. “Scratch the itch and walk away.”

“It’s better not to look for anything permanent.” I stand up, facing her.

Warning her.

Because Reagan isn’t temporary. She’s the kind of girl who sticks to your senses. The kind of girl worth way more than I’m capable of giving her. But if she doesn’t walk away, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.

Those eyes.

That sweetness.

I’m going to eat away at it until there’s nothing left.

Reagan tips her chin up, cementing herself in place when she should be running.

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