“Thanks,” I say, accepting it and opening the lid on my T-shirt. “What can I say, a girl’s gotta eat.”

  “Don’t know where it goes, though,” Temper adds, downing half his beer in one mouthful.

  “When are you going to settle down?” I ask Temper in return, watching, amused as he starts to choke on his beer. “What? Is the concept that foreign to you? Don’t you want a wife and kids?”

  “Never met anyone worthy of making her my old lady,” he admits with a shrug. “I’m not the easiest man to deal with, Skylar.”

  “You’re nice to me.”

  “You’re a kid,” he fires back. “And you’re family. You see a different side of me that not many get to see.”

  I consider his words. “Okay, so if you did meet someone you liked, you could show her that side too? You aren’t getting any younger. And yes, that was payback for the kid comment.”

  He chuckles at that. “I haven’t been on a date in five years, I think it is now. I don’t think the whole dating thing is for me. I’m old school. And not just a few decades ago old school—more like caveman.”

  “Even cavemen brought women home to their caves,” I point out.

  He nods sharply. “Yeah, by hitting them over their heads.”

  I laugh, but he doesn’t. “Okay, well, maybe don’t do that.”

  Renny laughs out loud from beside him. “He’s a little psychotic. But I wouldn’t have anyone else at my back.”

  “Don’t think that’s on top of a woman’s checklist these days,” Temper says to us both. “None of the pretty ones are asking for a man to cover their back while they are doing shady shit.”

  “Are the non-pretty ones asking for that?” I ask, confused. “I’m sure there are some pretty criminals out there that would love that about you, Temper. But maybe you should go for a nice woman. Someone with quiet strength. Maybe she could balance you out a little.”

  “Why aren’t you giving Renegade any shit about this?” he grumbles, finishing his beer and placing the empty glass bottle down on the table.

  “Because he was talking about some hot chick when I walked in, so he’s still in the game,” I point out. “You I’ve never heard talking about any woman.”

  “I’ll talk about one when I have something nice to say about one,” he declares.

  Saint walks in, and Temper eyes him in irritation. “Thank fuck you’re back. Your girl here is giving me relationship advice, and I’m not drunk enough yet to deal with that.”

  Saint leans down with a cheeky grin, and kisses me longer than he should in front of company. “I’m sure she has some good advice for you, Temper. Come on, Skylar, I’m going to cook for you, just like I told you I would.”

  I remember what he wrote in the letter, smiling as he pulls me to stand up and leads me to the kitchen.

  “You shouldn’t poke Temper, you know,” he says, lifting me up on the counter. “I know he’s nice with you, and calm, but I’ve seen him flip the fuck out. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take him on if he ever directed that at you, but I’m just saying be careful.”

  “I’ve heard that about him,” I admit, remembering Hammer giving me a similar warning. “I don’t know, I feel safe with Temper. I don’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

  “You feel safe with all the monsters,” he grumbles, getting a frying pan out of the cupboard and placing it on the stove. “How was work last night?”

  “It was good,” I tell him as he starts to get busy in the kitchen. “Your cousins were there again. What are you making, exactly?”

  “Spaghetti,” he says, turning to look at me in excitement. “A do-over for the shitty one I made you years ago. And yeah, they go out a lot, those two. They consider themselves socialites.”

  “Daisy has a huge rock on her finger,” I tell him, and then linger a little before trying to casually drop the question I’ve been meaning to ask him. “And they mentioned that you haven’t been to a family function since the last one you went to with Tory.”

  He fumbles in his onion cutting, then pauses for a second before continuing.

  “Who is Tory? Is that your ex or something? You haven’t said much about anyone you’ve dated and...” I trail off, waiting for him to chime in with answers.

  “No,” he replies, dragging out the word. “I’ve never brought a girlfriend home to meet my family. I haven’t really had any serious girlfriends aside from one, and that never worked out.” He turns around and glances at me. “You have nothing to worry about, Skylar.”

  “You didn’t answer the question. Who is Tory then?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. A bad feeling settles in my gut, something not sitting right with me.

  With a sigh, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and presses a few buttons. I’m about to yell at him when he walks over and shows me a picture.

  “This is Tory,” he says, a little hesitantly.

  I glance down at the little girl with bright blue eyes and a cute, dimpled smile. She is beautiful, the poster child for the perfect baby girl, and looks to be about two years old.

  “This is Tory?” I ask, confused.

  Until it hits me.

  I do a double take of those blue eyes.

  “She’s yours?” I ask, breath hitching. “You have a daughter? And you didn’t think it was a good idea to mention that?”

  My voice gets higher with each word, until I’m yelling loudly. I’m sure the whole clubhouse can hear me.

  “It’s complicated,” he says, glancing at the picture himself, then sliding his phone away. “And I didn’t want you to walk away because you knew I had a child with someone else.”

  “So what, you were just going to bring her to our wedding one day and yell surprise?” I ask, standing up and stepping closer to him, being confrontational. I’m hurt, and I’m sick of feeling this way. It’s like when it comes to me no one can be honest. They all care more about how they feel and what’s best for them. But no one stops to think about me. In the end I’m left feeling betrayed, every damn time. So much has happened recently and I’ve shared all of that with him, and he didn’t feel the need to be open and tell me about this? I just don’t understand.

  “And what’s complicated exactly, Saint? Because the only thing that’s complicated for me is the fact that you purposely didn’t tell me this huge bit of information. I’ve been talking about honesty, communication. We even discussed having children in the far-off future, and you didn’t think any of those times were good enough to bring up the fact that you already chose to have a child with someone else?”

  Saint grabs my shoulders and gets me to look at him. “I didn’t choose anything. She got pregnant—it was an accident. She was on the pill, but forgot to take it.”

  These things happen, I know. But he could have been more responsible.

  Thorn Benson, the love of my life, has a child with another woman. And he lied about it.

  I don’t understand why he lied to me. He could have told me about Tory in his letters, or when we first saw each other again. He could have told me, but he specifically chose not to. This isn’t a small deception. And then there is the other thing...

  He has a child. While he’s been my firsts for everything, my first kiss, my first lover, and one day I thought the father of my children, I was none of those to him.

  I wasn’t his first kiss, his first lover, and I didn’t give him his first child.

  “You saved nothing for me,” I whisper, feeling empty all of a sudden.

  “I saved everything for you,” he growls, eyes scanning mine. “I never gave anyone all of me, no one, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Because deep down inside, I knew that I was meant to be with you, and no one else. I would never make anyone else my wife, Skylar. I’ve saved that for you.”

  Nothing.

  “Skylar, are you listening to what I’m saying?” he asks me, cupping my face, begging me to look at him.

  I keep my eyes on his chest, because I don’t want to look at him anymore.

  I can’t.

  He’s a liar.

  First my mother, and now him.

  Is there anyone I can trust?

  Chapter Twenty

  Hammer steps into the kitchen, looking at us both like he’d rather be anywhere else but felt like he should check up on me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me, brow furrowing.

  I turn the heat on to him. “You obviously knew Saint had a fucking child, and you didn’t think I should know about it? How come no one can just tell me the truth, straight up, as it happens? Why does no one think about my feelings first? You’re my father.”

  “Sky—”

  “I’m the last person to know everything, and then I get some bullshit story about not wanting me to get hurt. Well, guess what, guys? Lying to me, it hurts! Being kept in the dark, yeah, that hurts too. And having to hear from two women in a bar that the man I thought was my fucking soul mate has a child, yeah, you guessed it, that also fucking hurts. So save me any speeches the two of you have, because I’m leaving.”

  Hammer blocks the door with his large build. “I told Saint he needed to tell you. That was up to him, not me, Skylar. The two of you are in a relationship, and it’s between both of you. And it’s a complicated situation with Tory. I’m sure if you let him explain—”

  “I’m not listening to shit,” I state, hands on my hips. “I get that it’s between me and him, but you know what I’ve been through recently! How much more shit am I going to have to take by the men who claim to love me?”

  I turn to face Saint. “It doesn’t matter what explanation you have—you had your chance, many chances I might add, and you still didn’t tell me about it. You have a real fucking problem with communicating, and you are still so closed off with me. You say I’m the only one you want, that we have a connection that has lasted years of separation and change, then why won’t you let me in?”

  Hammer steps aside, and Saint follows after me as I make my swift exit to my car. When I open the door and get in, he sits in the passenger side.

  “Please leave. I do not want to speak to you at the moment, so please get out of my car,” I growl.

  He stays silent for a few seconds.

  “I don’t know if she is my kid,” he says quietly. “My ex, if you can call her that, we slept with each other only a handful of times. She told me that Tory wasn’t mine a year after she was born. For that whole year I spent so much time with her, loved her, and spoiled her, and then Carol decided to drop that on me.”

  That...was not what I expected. I don’t even know what to say to that. While I’m still angry over finding out about the child in the first place, I can’t help but feel awful at what he’s telling me now.

  Confusion also fills me. Why is everything so complicated with this man?

  “I didn’t not tell you about Tory because I wanted to keep it from you. I didn’t tell you because I don’t talk about it, or her. I haven’t seen her in months, and I’m just fucking pretending everything is fine when it’s not, because I don’t know what the hell is going on. And yeah, I miss my little girl. My little girl who apparently isn’t even mine. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Yes, there was an element of it that I didn’t tell you because I thought you would get angry or walk away from me because it was too much to handle. No one wants to deal with baby mama bullshit, and no one wants to find out that the person they want to be with has a child already with another woman. Skylar, you put me up on this pedestal, but I’m not perfect. This isn’t some forbidden romance story. I’m just a man, a biker, and yes, I’ve been with a lot of women over the years, and maybe even knocked one of them up. But I never loved them. I love you, and I always will.”

  He reaches out and touches my face. “I love you, Skylar. Don’t give up on me, not just yet, okay?”

  Swallowing hard, my heart breaks for everyone in this situation.

  For him, for not knowing if the daughter he loves is his.

  For Tory, who hasn’t seen her dad and must be missing him.

  And for me and my teenage dream that Saint would be mine and mine only, and when I finally had to share him, it would be with our own children. It might sound petty and unrealistic, but I do feel saddened about this.

  “Maybe I have put you on a pedestal, or maybe my expectations are set too high, I don’t know, but I never, ever, for one second thought that you would have gotten another woman pregnant,” I admit, being a hundred percent honest.

  “Sky,” he whispers, ducking his head, like my words hurt him.

  Well, his actions have hurt me, so I guess we are even.

  “I know that sounds stupid and immature. But you just sprang this on me and it’s a lot to process. And unlike some people—” I give him a glare “—I want to be honest in how I’m feeling, no matter how foolish my thoughts are. I can be mature about this and admit that part of my anger is unjustified, but—”

  “You have nothing to feel stupid about,” he tries to assure me, cutting me off. “This was before you, Sky. You can’t be mad at me about something that happened before we were together. There’s nothing wrong with having high expectations—fuck, you deserve the world—but can you judge me for my actions now, not what I’ve done in the past?”

  Closing my eyes, I rest my head back on my car seat, sighing deeply. “I am judging you for your actions now. You never told me the truth, Saint.”

  “I knew it would upset you.”

  “That doesn’t give you a free pass not to tell me,” I quickly reply.

  “I’m fucking this up,” he whispers. “I love you, Sky. I’m beginning to think I always did, even when I forbid myself to even go there. I’m sorry, all right? And I know it seems like I’m always fucking apologizing, but I’m trying. I’m going to do better, and I’ll be more open and honest.”

  Saint is trying to love me.

  But he needs to try harder if this is going to work.

  “I love you, too, Saint. I always have,” I say, opening my eyes and turning to him. “I’m sorry about the situation with Tory and her mother, but yeah, you should have told me.”

  “I know.”

  Half of me wants to help him sort out the situation and be there for him through it, and the other half of me just wants to be selfish and make it about me. Right now, I just want to go home and cry, and feel sorry for myself because although I’d never admit it out loud, my perfectly constructed future has been shattered.

  It’s so ridiculous that I feel this way, so I think I need to cry it out. I need to vent to Max, even though I know he’s going to tell me that I’m overreacting and I need to get over it.

  Saint just hasn’t let me in emotionally, and how can we move forward if he isn’t going to?

  “I’m all in in this, Saint. I moved here and found you. I’m here right now, for you,” I say, feeling emotional, my voice breaking a little. “And now I’m here, and you’re saying all the right things, but you have this irrational need to protect me from everything that will hurt me, even though I need to know it. It’s not fair.”

  I hold up my hand when he’s about to speak, stopping him. “I do not need someone to protect me. I need a partner who will be my equal and who will respect me.”

  He’s silent for a few second before he speaks. “You’re right. And you know what? If the roles were reversed, I’d hate it. I’d be furious. I’m not as open as you are, but I’m trying to be. It doesn’t come naturally to me, but I’m willing to work on it for you. I’ll do whatever I have to to make this work. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”

  If Tory is Saint’s—and going by her eyes, I think she is—she is a part of him. This isn’t about me, and wouldn’t be my perfect plan for us, it would be about loving Saint’s kid like I would my own, because I do love him.

  “Sky, can you please say something?” he rumbles, and glances at the door. He wants to leave too.

  How is this going to work if we can’t communicate properly? It’s way too soon for us to be having these concerns; we should be in the honeymoon stage, not fighting about issues way too big for me to handle.

  I open my mouth to say I want to go home, and we can talk about this later, but I know that if I do that Saint is just going to close off even more from me. I need to show him he can trust me and that I’m not going anywhere unless he lies to me about something or betrays my trust again, because there’s no coming back from that. Yes, I want to make this work, but I’m not going to be treated any less than I deserve. I can forgive him this time, but only a fool would a second time.

  “I won’t be lied to again, Saint,” I say, looking him in the eye, expression blank. “I deserve honesty from you. And I will give you that in return, that and more. I know you only trust your MC, but you also used to trust me, and I need you to get back to that place where you aren’t scared to tell me something because you think I will run away, or that I can’t handle it. I can handle it.” Not that I expected something like this to come up.

  “I should have told you,” he agrees, taking my hand in his. “I just... I knew you’d be disappointed.”

  That’s an understatement. I think it was more of a shock than anything. I honestly didn’t see it coming, and I just wish I had gotten to hear it from him. I don’t think I’m a hard person to speak to, and I don’t understand what he was thinking when he decided not to tell me. It was always going to come out; it’s like he was just buying time.

  “It doesn’t matter what my reaction is—you still need to be honest,” I whisper, staring down at our now joined hands. I’ve romanticized my relationship with Saint so much, but the truth of it is exactly what Logan was trying to tell me. I’m going to have be stronger to be in a relationship with him than with just a normal guy. Not that they don’t do things like this either, but with Saint so much more can be tested.

  Everything is going to be put on the line.