Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3)

Well, except for that eerie stillness with which he looked at me, watched me, as if he were trying to burrow into my deeply held secrets. Yes, there was something out of balance about that.

But now, holding Becca’s hand, he was relaxed, easygoing. I guess he reserves the strange for me. Who could blame him, after the intense start we’d had years ago?

I cleared my throat. “What I mean is, a day without a doctor visit for me is a really, really good day.”

His lips twitched, and his cheekbones seemed to get more pronounced with that sudden swerve of his lips. “Right. I get that.”

He lifted a hand, gesturing at my tummy. “You and the baby doing good?”

I took in a breath. “Yeah, I’m almost done with the second month, heading into the third.”

His brows pulled together. “You puking every morning?”

I laughed.

Boner usually said what was on his mind and the way it was on his mind. It was refreshing.

“Actually, today, I didn’t, which is pretty exciting. Although, I probably will later on today.” I shrugged.

His gaze fell on me, and I straightened my posture under its weight.

“It’s a real gift—what you’re doing for Grace and Lock.”

“I’m glad it all worked out. It’s a gift for me, too.”

We both averted our gazes.

“Well, my bike’s out, obviously.” He gestured toward his black chopper glinting in the afternoon sun.

My pulse spiked at the sight.

Thank God. Just the thought of getting on the back of his glorious self-styled chopper made my knees weak. It was a real signature piece with specially designed, by Lock, paint–detailing on his black gas tank of a red snake bursting forth from silver puffs of smoke.

I hadn’t been on the back of a bike since I left Catch in Nebraska, and I missed it. I missed the exhilaration of the ride. I missed the thrill of hanging on to my man while I enjoyed that exhilaration of wind, speed, and metallic roar.

What I didn’t miss, however, was clinging to a man I no longer trusted or had deep feelings for.

My gaze landed back on Boner. His eyes were on me, waiting for my response.

No, he wasn’t Catch, nothing like him, and it sure wasn’t the age difference either. Catch was the all-American boy next door gone bad—reckless, daredevil, seedy. Boner was the sage enigmatic phantom who visited you only in the shadows of the night.

His long-lashed extraordinary green eyes pierced me, and I felt that unique rush in my veins, leaving me breathless.

I cleared my throat. “Yep, the bike’s definitely out. Unless you have one with a seat for Becca—”

He laughed. “My truck’s over there.” He turned back toward the open bays of the repair shop. “Yo, Trick! I’m heading out, giving Jill a ride.”

Tricky raised a hand at us.

“Let’s go.” Boner handed me Becca and snatched up her car seat. He tracked toward his pickup, his long hair swinging over his shoulders in the hot breeze.

We set up Becca’s car seat in the cab, belted her in, and climbed into his GMC.

He pulled out of the clubhouse property. “You need anything?”

I let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Everyone asks me that all the time.”

He shot me a quirky no-shit grin. “That’s good, right?” His attention went back to the road.

I took in a slight breath to deal with that smile and that tone of voice. That casual, comfortable of-course-you’re-one-of-us-now attitude made a small part of me warm inside.

He was right. It was good. It made me feel like I belonged, was important to somebody—or several somebodies actually—after so many years of straggling, struggling, and drifting from one job to the next, one idea to the next, one set of pals to the next. But this was only for a little while, wasn’t it? Until the baby was born. I’d always be connected to Rae and Tania because Becca was their blood, but how much of a real family member I was to them, I wasn’t so sure. I was just the former girlfriend of Rae’s son and Tania’s brother.

My hand pulled at the seat belt over my tummy. “It’s good for the baby, of course.”

“Not just for the baby,” he said, his eyes flashing at me.

“Well, yeah, okay, but I mean—”

“Not just for the baby,” he said again, easing on the brakes at a red light on Clay Street in the middle of town.

My breath caught at his insistent, tenacious stare.

His head tilted. “Tell me you get that.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Good.” His attention shot to the green traffic light. “So, you need to hit the supermarket?”

“Oh. It’s okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried, Jill. I want to help you. Do you need to hit the supermarket?”

“I’ll grab Rae’s car and go myself later. It’s fine.”

“Jill, where were you headed before you came by the club?”

My face heated. “To the supermarket,” I mumbled.

“Right. Which one do you go to? Tibbet’s or Safeway?”

“Boner, really, it’s fine. You don’t have to—”

“You got to do a full shop or grab a couple of things?”

“It’s okay, really. Just take us home.”

“Full shop,” he said.

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