Alice laughs. “Oh, I know. I’ve been sending her pics and texts all day. We’re doing great. I told her to go sleep or bond with that baby. The pups will still be here when she’s feeling up to coming in.”

  Tiny takes a picture of Alice waving at the camera and texts it to Lia.

  “Well,” he says, “my work here is done.”

  “Not a dog lover?” I ask, giving him a smirk.

  “I’ve got three grandpuppies,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s just say I prefer grandbabies over grandpuppies.”

  Alice gasps in mock horror while Tiny heads back to the shop. I linger behind.

  “Alice,” I ask, leaning on the counter. “Where’s Birdie?”

  Her face falls. “Didn’t she text you?” she asks. Then she looks concerned. “Something happened, Crow. She called me hysterically crying and asked if I could cover for her today. She said she was going to come in after she picks up Mia and Zoey from school, but I told her to take care of herself and check in later.” Alice worries her lip with her teeth. “I thought you knew…”

  Immediately, my chest caves in, and it’s hard to breathe. What the fuck could have happened from the time I left Birdie until now?

  “Thanks, Alice.”

  I’m trying to remember whether I said or did anything that might have upset Birdie as I grab my phone. I fire off a text and head back to the shop.

  Babe, are you all right?

  When I get back to the shop, Tiny, Leo, and Tim are still talking, laughing and sharing pics of Leo’s kid.

  “Tim,” I say, lifting my chin to him. “You mind if I run? Be back in an hour, tops? I have something I need to take care of.”

  Tiny gives me a look. “Need backup?” he asks.

  I shake my head, but something in my chest feels lighter. This is the brotherhood I expected. No questions asked. There for me, ready to ride into anything, no matter what. Somehow, with everything I’ve been through, with what I’ve done, the fact that Tiny doesn’t ask means twice as much. That trust, that brotherhood, is stronger than ever. I’d like to think I’ve earned it, but it still feels like a gift. I clap Tiny on the shoulder. “Just need to head out and check on some shit. Thanks, man. I’ll be back.”

  Leo nods. “Go for it. I’m sure my big brother is happy to not work and shoot the shit for as long as I can stick around.”

  I grab my keys and climb into the truck. I check my phone for a response from Bridget, but seeing none makes my anxiety level soar to new heights. I tear out of the lot and head for her place, my mind racing. I can’t believe anything I said or did this morning would set her off. What I’m more worried about is that she’s sick, in pain, or is battling a headache and doesn’t want me to know.

  The more I think about it, the more I start to freak out. What if she passed out or fell again? I shouldn’t have left her alone after we had sex. I don’t know how this shit works! If stress or activity or something else is a trigger, I got her into this mess, and I wasn’t around to help clean it up. I drive as high above the speed limit as I’m willing to go without risking getting pulled over until I’m parked outside Birdie’s house.

  Her car is gone. I run to the front door, knocking on it with all my might and calling her name. I don’t know why I’m knocking. If her car isn’t here, she’s probably not even home, but I’m at a loss for where the hell she could be. Did she drive herself to the doctor? Where would she take off to crying? I yank my phone from my pocket and start dialing her, but her beat-up sedan pulls to a stop in front of the house before the call can even connect.

  “Birdie.” I trot down the sidewalk to meet her at the car.

  “Crow?” She throws herself into my arms and holds me close. “What are you doing here?”

  “You never showed up to work,” I explain, breathing in her scent. “I was scared to death. I thought maybe something happened.”

  She pulls back from my arms. “Something did, but not what you were probably thinking about. You can’t run in every time you think I have a headache, baby.”

  I lift her chin and meet her eyes. “This is more than a headache. After this morning, I was…worried. Maybe you were…”

  She lifts up on her toes and kisses me lightly. Her eyes are still rimmed with red and puffy from crying. “Regretting this morning?” She plants her face against my chest again and squeezes. “Do you have to get right back to work? Can you come in?”

  I follow her inside, and the moment the door is closed, she presses me against it and kisses me hard.

  “Crow,” she whispers against my lips, “you don’t ever have to question how I feel about you again. I’m in this. I trust you. I respect you. I want you. Do you understand?”

  I hold her face between my hands and kiss her back, our lips tangling in a dance that’s becoming familiar. And so, so precious. “Yeah,” I grit out, “I do. And I feel the same.”

  “I’m yours,” she says, a fresh shimmer of tears in her eyes. “And all of this that comes with it.” She shakes her head and motions her hand toward the house, pictures of Mia, everything.

  “I want it,” I say. “I want it all.”

  She sighs, a deep sadness in her beautiful face. “Crow…I have something to show you,” she says, taking me by the hand.

  We sit together on the couch for a minute before she reaches for her purse. She pulls out an envelope.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “This is my past,” she says. “It’s come back for me.”

  Fuck. I can’t imagine what’s happened, what she’s been through, or what this envelope holds, but I’m here for it. I’m here for her.

  Because she’s a woman who can see past the paperwork, the record, into the truth, I have more than just freedom and maybe love—I have real hope. And I’m going to give that same thing back to her now and every day that she needs it.

  “I don’t need to see that,” I say. “Whatever it is, I’m in. I take care of mine, Birdie,” I say. “You never once flinched when you found out what I’ve done. What I’ve been through. You’ve never questioned my morality or soul, or even looked twice at me, even though you could have. Many other women would.” I point to the envelope. “I don’t care what that is. I’m here for you. I’m falling for you. I can dream about a future because of you. We’ll get through it together.”

  A heartbreaking, fragile smile crosses her face as she speaks the words that gut me in the best way. “That’s how I feel too. That’s why I think it’s important that you look at this.”

  She digs down into the envelope and pulls out a smaller item folded in half. “Start with this.”

  I take it and unfold it, immediately recognizing it for what it is. “A check?” My eyes are scanning the payee information, the amount, and then going back to the name of the man who wrote the check. “Birdie, what the hell does this mean?”

  She laughs bitterly. “I know. I felt the same way at first. I literally drove all the way to the bank to deposit that and turned around. I don’t know if I can do it. Read the rest.”

  I flip through the pages of legalese, and slowly, the picture comes together. It’s a copy of a will. With it, there’s a letter that’s signed and notarized.

  “This is from your father?” I ask.

  She nods. The tears are gone now, but she looks thoughtful. Confused.

  “He came by this morning. Right after you left.”

  “Fuck,” I hiss. “I can’t believe I missed him. I should have been here.”

  “It’s okay. There’s no way you could have known. He’s dying. This is his attempt at making things right.”

  As best as I can see, James Sanderson has written Bridget a check for $75,000 as payment for back child support. For all the years he didn’t provide for her while she was growing up.

  “He’s dying,” I fill in. “And he’s written you into his will.”

  She nods. “Along with his two other illegitimate children and the three kids he had with his wife.”

  “Wow.” I hand the check back to her with my mind blown. “So, this explains how you’re all related? Gives you the names and contact information for all five of your half-siblings?”

  “Only four now,” she corrects. She leans past me and points to the entry for Ginger Johnson. “Ginger passed away not too long ago. That’s where she was laid to rest.”

  I rub my forehead, tiny spikes firing behind my eyes. “How the hell are you not on the floor with a massive headache?” I ask her. “My mind is spinning, and I don’t know whether to be mad or happy. How do you feel?”

  “Exactly the same.” Her voice is sad. Conflicted. “On the one hand, he’s dying, Crow. The man who gave my mother nothing but heartache, the man who abandoned me… He’s going to be gone very soon. He’s trying to make some things right. But I feel sick taking his money. It doesn’t feel right to me. It feels like compounding the wrongs.”

  I nod and slide the check back into the envelope. “You should take all the time you need to decide what to do,” I say. “Money comes and goes, but family…”

  I swallow hard as I think about my own dad and how little effort I’ve made to reach out despite his many attempts. Maybe there’s a lesson here for me as well. I’ve got the club, but that doesn’t mean the flesh and blood Taylors don’t exist. They are still out there. In their own effed-up way, I suppose they do care.

  “Family is everything,” she says. “Like what you have with the club. Morris and Alice—that’s family. Mia is my family.”

  “And us,” I insist. “I want that, Birdie. For us. And Mia. Everything I do is to make a better life for us. Fixing your home. Teaching you how to make sweet tea that won’t kill a man.”

  “At least I’ll always find work in a prison kitchen,” she teases.

  I pull her close to me. “This money, babe, fuck it. You don’t need it. You’ll make it some other way. If you want to shred that check right now, burn that will, and move on with your life, just say the word and I’ll find you a match.”

  She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I don’t want to burn it,” she says. “I want to keep it. Does that make me a terrible person?”

  “Hell no.” I tuck her under my arm and cuddle her to my chest. “Why would accepting a gift make you a bad person?”

  “It just feels weird. Like he’s buying me out or something.” She rubs her face and looks up at me. “But you know how this could change my life. I could worry a lot less about the doctors and medical costs. Take my time finding a job. I could even start a small business.”

  “Do you want that?” I ask. “Seems like everyone we know is their own boss.”

  She nods. “And with Mia… This money solves a lot of problems.”

  “It will buy some short-term happiness,” I agree. “If anything, you can feel good that your father gave that to you. Maybe taking it will give you a chance to do some real reconnecting with him. If you burn it, it’d be hard to reach out and have a friendly chat.”

  “It’s all so overwhelming,” she says. She reaches a hand to my face and strokes my cheek. “The only thing I can say is that I’m so grateful I have you by my side for this. Whatever I decide, I want you there. Okay?”

  I shove aside the papers and the check and pull Birdie close. I stroke the hair back from her face and whisper a promise against her ear. “Side by side,” I agree. “We’re in this together.”

  She lifts her lips to mine and we kiss, but this isn’t one of frantic passion. The kiss is slow and tender. I nudge her lips apart with my tongue and taste her, and somehow everything feels different.

  The way she tugs on my hair, bringing my face close, my hands spanning her back and holding her tight. There’s excitement and electricity and all the same passion, but the thing that’s gone now is any uncertainty. Birdie’s mine, and I never expected that a man like me would get a second chance. Not with a woman like her.

  Together, we’ll leave the nest.

  Together, we’ll mend our broken wings and fly again.

  And no ride has ever been sweeter.

  EPILOGUE

  CROW

  Six months later…

  I wake just as the sun is coming up. Birdie’s bare leg is thrown over both of my thighs. I run my hands over the smooth skin, and she sighs. She rolls over and tucks her perfect ass against me, and I settle onto my side so I can hold her close. I curve my hand around her bare breast, and she giggles sleepily.

  “It’s so early.”

  I nuzzle my nose into her hair and breathe in every bit of my girl. My Birdie. The smells of sweat and sex from last night.

  “I know,” I tell her. “I’m going to go for a run. I’ll be back.”

  I kiss her and climb out of bed, then dress quietly so I don’t wake up Mia. I doubt she’s going to get much sleep tonight at Zoey’s, so I don’t want to wake her up too soon. We have a long day ahead of us.

  I grab my keys from the hook by the door and lock up the house. I spend most nights here now, but I still stay in my room back at the compound every so often. I think it’s important for Mia and Birdie to still have mom-daughter time. When I’m around, we eat together, watch movies, and do our best to keep the noise to a minimum when we close the door to our bedroom for the night. But today’s a big day for us, and I want to clear my head.

  I bend down outside the front of the house and tighten the laces on my running shoes.

  I jog a few blocks to warm up. I still use Morris’s armband, and I’ve tucked my phone and some money into the holster around my bicep. After about a mile, I turn a corner and head into a coffee shop. An older man with dark hair sits peering at a paper through his glasses.

  “You know you can read the news on your phone,” I say, walking up to the empty seat beside him.

  My father looks at me and just shakes his head. “I hate that device,” he says. “I get my news the old-fashioned way.”

  I know he does.

  “You want something?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, but I know better. I walk over to the counter and order him a plain black coffee and grab a bottle of water for myself, then join him at the table.

  “Thank you, son,” he says, eyeing the tattoos on my hands as he takes the coffee. Every time he sees them, I know it’s like the first time. He notices them, wants to say something about them, but then stops himself. Today, he clamps his lips shut and takes the lid off the coffee to let it cool.

  Then he goes back to his reading.

  I uncap my water and sip it. The cold feels good on my throat, and my chest feels open, alive, despite the tension I still feel about my dad.

  He’s been in town for two months, staying at a short-term rental. He’s planning on staying another month to help Birdie and me get her contracting business off the ground. She signed a lease to rent an office space in Morris’s strip mall right next to Arrow’s PI shop. She’s going to be the owner of the business, and I’ll be an officer in the company and her lead contractor. We’ll have some hurdles to overcome with licensing and things, but we’ve got work lined up, insurance, and now an office, thanks to James Sanderson’s start-up capital. That’s what Birdie decided to do with the money her father left her.

  Birdie’s dad passed away only two weeks after writing her that big check. She did attend the funeral, and she met all of James’s other kids. His wife. His other girlfriends. That was awkward and painful but somehow also very healing. Turns out Birdie’s got one half brother who was working construction too. He’s been consulting with us on everything from insurance to tools to bonds. And given all the siblings Birdie’s met through her father, she might form a relationship with some of them. Oddly enough, James’s widow Gail has been the one who’s stepped up the most after he died.

  I look over at my dad, who’s blowing aggressively on his hot coffee, looking completely pissed off that the beverage isn’t drinking temperature. That’s my dad. Just because he’s here doesn’t mean he’s changed. But since he is retired now, he’s here for a while.

  After I told him about Birdie and me trying to launch a business, he decided to come down and help us. Tiny put in some of his own start-up money to help, so it looks like the club will stand to gain from the business in more ways than just the rent we’ll pay on the office space.

  I’m literally going into business with my woman and my brothers. It’s a cause for celebration.

  “Party’s today,” I remind my dad. “You know where to go?”

  He peers at me over the rim of his glasses. “I have the address.”

  I know Dad’s not thrilled about coming to a party at the compound. He’s got all kinds of preconceived notions about the club, what we do there, what kind of people we are. And that’s okay.

  Today, we’re throwing a huge party to celebrate my homecoming, the new business that we hope is going to make the club some real bank in the coming years, and just all the good happening. Dad’s been getting to know me again, and while it’s not always comfortable, it’s family. Both sides of my family coming together—my dad and my brothers—this feels like coming home.

  “All right, then,” I say. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  I push the chair back, but my dad stops me.

  “I’ve been looking for the right time to give this to you. I think now’s as good as it’s going to get.” He is worrying me with the look on his face.

  “What?” I ask, tipping my chin at him.

  “You serious about this Bridget and her kid?”

  I scowl at him. “Dad, would you just call her Birdie already?”

  He nods and has the decency to look a little apologetic. “Sorry. All these nicknames just… I’ll never get used to people calling you Crow.”

  “Fair enough. And yes, I love them both.”

  He digs into his pocket and pulls out an envelope folded into thirds. “I don’t have a box for this,” he explains. “Took it from the safe-deposit box and just meant to find something better than this for you, but… Maybe you can take care of that. If you decide to use it.”