Page 79 of Riding Free

“Is that a threat?”

I chuckle, lifting my hand to the back of my neck. I massage myself there, trying to relieve the tension before I respond to him. I know he isn’t going to like what I have to say, but I also don’t give a shit.

“Listen, you’re the only one threatening here. I don’t give a fuck what you do. All I’m saying is that there are consequences to your decisions. If I were you, I’d try to mend what you have with Keely so there can be a relationship between you and Thea if that’s your end goal here. I’d also have a chat with your wife about getting trashed when Keely’s asked her not to while she babysits.”

And with that, I spin around and walk away from him. He doesn’t call out after me. He doesn’t need to. I don’t give a fuck what he has to say. I’ve heard what I need to hear, and whatever he chooses, the ball is in his court.

What he doesn’t understand is that I’ll shove a knife through that fucking ball before I let it touch Keely or Thea. And I’ll do it with a goddamn smile on my face.

CHAPTER

SIXTY

KEELY

A whole-ass house.

That’s what we have here. I’ve only ever lived in a small apartment space after I moved out of my parents’ house. Thea and I have been exploring this house all day. There are little surprises everywhere, and I can’t believe this is real life.

That this is mine.

The girls did something really nice—like beyond nice—when they outfitted us. I don’t know if Brock told them to do all of this or not, but it’s probably the sweetest, kindest, most generous thing anyone has ever done.

Okay, maybe they did do it. Because the reception-housewarming-party thing was the sweetest thing that had ever happened before this, and that was them. Maybe this is what families do.

It’s not like I would know anything about that. If my mother threw me a party, her country club people would come and feel obligated to buy a gift, but they would never do anything like this.

And my friends… or my old friends. I may have attended all their weddings and major life events, but it’s clear to me now that they would not reciprocate. I never thought that all those people, who I thought were like family, were nothing more than acquaintances.

It makes me sad just thinking about it, so I push it out of my mind and focus on the happiness that surrounds me. There is a lot of that here. This house is the happiest place I’ve ever lived.

I have all the kitchen basics someone would need to get their kitchen started, including brand-new plates, bowls, and silverware—plus kitchen towels and even salt and pepper shakers.

They thought of everything.

Every damn thing.

They’re angels, all of them.

I feel like I need to do something to thank them, but I don’t think there is anything I could even dream of that would repay them in kind. I’ll just have to wait for an opportunity, but I will repay them, all of them, including Alex, because I have a feeling he did quite a bit, too.

Inhaling a deep breath, I turn around in a circle, taking in the entire kitchen. It’s small but mighty, and I’m not a world-class chef or anything, but I can’t wait to bake in here. I’m not sure what I’ll make, maybe just some simple chocolate chip cookies or something.

I freeze when I hear the familiar sound of a motorcycle growing louder. It sounds like a deep rumbling bee as it moves into the driveway. He’s home. I don’t know where he went. I didn’t bother asking. He said he had some business to take care of, and I didn’t ask for any more information about it.

I press my lips together as I watch the door to the house open. Thea is sleeping in her crib. She’s found this past week calming and has been napping and sleeping like a champ. Even she realizes we’re home—and safe.

He moves farther into the house, closing the door behind him, then he lifts his head, his eyes finding mine before his lips curve up into a grin.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, my eyes searching his. He takes one step toward me, then another. He doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of me. Wordlessly, he cups my cheeks before he dips his chin and his mouth touches mine.

His tongue slides across the seam of my lips, causing me to gasp softly. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, swirling it and tangling it with mine.

I curl my fingers around his biceps and arch my back, pressing my breasts against his chest. It relieves the ache in my nipples for just a moment. But it’s not enough for me to calm myself.

Pressing my thighs together tightly, I attempt to relieve the pressure and the ache, but it doesn’t work. I still ache for his touch. I want him inside me. I want him to stretch me and fill me. I need it.