“Oh my.” I walk out to the living room, which, let’s be honest, was only a few steps, but my heart is literally in my throat. As a woman you pray for the right man to come along. Mack wasn’t that man, not by a long shot. After I found out I was pregnant, we tried to make a go of a relationship, but it wasn’t there. The drunken one-night stand was just that. We got along well enough. The only arguments we ever had was if he was going to stay in Henley’s life or not. Some weeks, he’d be there like clockwork to pick her up and visit with her. Other weeks, he was a no-show, which didn’t help in the grand scheme of things. And don’t even get me started on child support, which was practically non-existent. It worked out in my favor in the long run. I have my little bundle of joy more than ever, and even when I’d have to stay up all night while she was sleeping to work, it’s always been worth it.
That’s why this has been utterly fucking impossible when it comes to Bentley “Ruger” Matthews. He’s what you dream of as a little girl—dark naturally tanned skin, jet-black hair, the light stubble he keeps along his jaw, full lips that women wish were ours, dark blue eyes, long minky lashes. A body made for pleasuring a woman—tall, muscular, and most of his body is covered in tattoos. He’s perfect, minus the fact that his club always seems to put us in some kind of lockdown, though one of the times was definitely due to my own dumb self.
I stand watching the most precious thing in life sleeping peacefully. He’s so amazing with Henley. Even I couldn’t get her to sleep, and I’m her mother. Ruger’s tattooed hands and fingers are holding her, one on her diaper-padded booty, the other on her upper back. If my phone were close, I’d snap a picture. God, it’s the sweetest sight before my eyes. This is what I envisioned when I was a little girl—a man who would love not only me but our children with every depth of his being. I know without a shadow of a doubt that Ruger loves Henley as if she were his own. As for the two of us, that’s a whole other story. Once again partly my fault, but once bitten, twice shy. I’m the epitome of that saying.
Right now, I’m in a conundrum. Do I wake Ruger up and take the chance on waking up Henley, or do I let them be?
“Sugar.” Ruger’s voice is low, husky. Jesus, it makes me want to drop my towel and let him have all of me.
“You got her to sleep. Thank you.” The crinkles around his eyes and mouth peep out when he smiles at me.
“Not a hardship, Sadie. I’ll put her to bed, and then we really do need to talk. Brace yourself because you’re not gonna like it.” I watch as he does an ab curl, his hands never leaving Henley. She doesn’t so much as move when he stands up, which is something in itself. He’s well over six foot tall and probably close to two hundred and twenty pounds, and he’s as graceful as ever.
“Great. I’ll go put some clothes on, then.” My stomach drops at the thought of talking, unsure if what’s going to happen.
“Clothing’s optional, sugar. It might be better if you don’t put them on. Dependin’ on how pissed you are at me, might be the only way to calm you down.” His lips graze mine, leaving me in an even bigger Ruger-induced fog as I watch him walk into my bedroom, my body heating up even with the worry that’s settling inside me.
Three
Ruger
Henley didn’t move, not even when I laid her down in the crib, covered her up, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She was out like a light, much like her momma when Sadie finally shut her damn brain down enough to rest.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, knowing another damn argument is about to go down and that Sadie will either hate me or understand this fuckin’ dilemma. My feet propel me to the living room, hating this godforsaken place with every depth of my soul. She and Henley deserve so much more than this shit hole. If fuckin’ Mack were any kind of a man, he’d have made sure Sadie and Henley were set for life. Damn, the club was paying him bank, and the way Sadie talked it was like she barely saw a penny.
“Ruger, can we get this talk over with? I have to get up early. There’s another bossy pants in my life in the form of a client who is going to kill me if his website isn’t up and running by tomorrow at noon.” Sadie’s sitting on the couch with a towel wrapped around her curvy body. The towel that was on her head is on the back of a kitchen chair. Her auburn hair the same color of Henley’s is drying in soft waves.