Page 48 of Lore
“I didn’t want you to worry,” he replies, running the pad of his thumb across my jawline. After going to visit with the adorable Zade, who has his mom’s blue eyes and a thick head of dark hair, Lore went to church, and only then, after that meeting, decided to tell me about the flowers and now the letter Trent sent.
He can’t get to me in here, so he’s doing what he can to let me know that he hasn’t forgotten about me. What did I ever see in Trent? However, he gave me Dove, so I can’t complain. I just wish he would leave us alone now.
“He can’t get you in here, and he knows it,” he says, pulling me against his chest. “With all the shit he’s gotten himself into, we might not even have to do anything. The mafia is after him, which is what’s making this situation a little trickier.”
“The mafia?” My brows furrow as I wonder just how deep into this shit Trent has gotten. A small part of me feels sorry for him, but he did bring all of this on himself. I can only protect my children now, even if, for Dove, that means from her own father.
“We’re handling it,” he vows.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not knowing what I would have done without him. “I’m sorry I dragged your club into this.”
“Don’t be. It brought you back to me,” he rasps, tracing my lips with the pad of his thumb. “You did the right thing, Butterfly. Always come to me.”
I look up at him. He can be so sweet sometimes. But then again, he always was, even back then.
“You know, seeing Zade…” he trails off, running his hand over his beard. “I wish I were there to see Rider being born. It makes it even fucking worse knowing you were there all alone, then seeing how much support Ora had. You should have had all that. I wish you did.”
“Lore,” I whisper, my voice catching.
He lifts my chin with his forefinger and thumb, forcing me to look at him. But I don’t see any blame when I look into his violet eyes, not anymore.
Just pain for all that we lost.
And regret.
“I know there’s no going back,” he mutters, smiling sadly. “But I am sorry I wasn’t there for you both. I’m sorry I walked away from you. I’m just fucking sorry, and I hope you can forgive me because if you think I’m ever letting you go again…” He presses his lips to mine in a hard, almost desperate kiss.
“Looks like the party started early,” one of the twins calls out as he steps into the room. He has on nothing but a pair of light, low-slung jeans and his cut, showing off his chiselled stomach. Is that an eight-pack? Unlike most of the other men here, it doesn’t look like he has any tattoos. When he starts to thrust his hips suggestively, I know that it’s Bones. He’s always playing around. Skull is close behind him, a bandana on his head. He, too, isn’t wearing a T-shirt, just his leather cut and all that smooth, tanned skin.
He also has an eight-pack.
How do they manage to maintain identical muscles, too?
A deep growl rises through Lore’s chest, gaining my full attention. When I catch his narrowed eyes, he lowers his face to me, his brows drawing together dangerously. “Keep your eyes on me, Butterfly, unless you want me to kick both of their asses.”
I roll my eyes and place my palm on his chest, my eyes sliding away to see Rose and Brandy walking in carrying some bottles of alcohol, wearing barely any clothing. I dip my head toward them, and he looks over, flinching. “You’re not the one who has to be around people that you’ve fucked every day. If I want to check out some abs, I’m going to.”
He slides off his cut and places it on the bar, then grips his T-shirt at his nape to pull it off, showing his impressive muscles covered in sexy inked skin. “That was in the past, and this is fucking now. Do you see me looking at them? I don’t want anyone else. You want to see some fucking abs, take your fill. But it will only be mine you’re looking at.”
My lip twitches, and I tilt my head to the side, studying him. I know my guard has been slowly lowering itself as each day passes, and I’ve stopped trying to keep it up. Of course, there’s a part of me that’s still terrified because he could break my heart all over again, and it’s not just me I have to think about this time. But then he says things like that, or he shows me what a good dad he can be, and my resolve crumbles.
I’ve grown over the years, and maybe he has too.
Or maybe he’s just doing that now. I don’t know.
I reach out my hand, my fingers stroking down the center of his ripped abs, feeling every defined ridge. “We’re supposed to be celebrating Zade. This isn’t a strip show, Lore.”
“No, no show. It’s seduction for my woman,” he growls into my ear, nibbling down my neck.
“Getting a little ahead of yourself there,” I mutter, closing my eyes and tilting my head back to give him more access.
“No, I’m not. And the sooner you accept it, the sooner I can put a property patch on you and make you my old lady officially.”
My eyes open, widening. “You want me to be your old lady? Like… a commitment?”
He smirks, his eyes dancing with humor. “You don’t have to say it like it’s a forbidden word. Have I not been clear enough? I want you on my bike. My ring on your finger. My patch on your back. I want you and both kids to have my last name.”
“Lore.”
