Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC 8)

“But you don’t want to.”

My hands fisted at my sides. “It’s the polite thing to do,” I answered, instead of admitting he was right.

No, I did not want to offer this man a beer. I did not want him to come into my home, likely charming my daughter, maybe my son. I did not want him continuing to piss me off.

I wanted him to leave so I could shut the blinds, snuggle up on the sofa with my kids, watch a movie and forget the rest of the world existed.

He chuckled. “I’m not going to force you do to the polite thing, Lizzie. I’m an outlaw. Don’t need manners, just honesty.”

Something about his chuckle and the way he said my name pissed me off too. “Okay, honestly, I don’t want to offer you a beer. I want to hang out with my kids for the rest of the afternoon, because on Sundays, we have movie and junk food evening. It’s our routine, and offering you a beer would screw with our routine, and it’s...” I trailed off, not about to tell him routines were all that held me together. “Important,” I finished instead. “So I feel incredibly rude for not wanting to offer you a beer, since you did a really nice thing for me, and I’m normally a nice person, but—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Lizzie,” Kace interrupted. “You don’t have to be nice to me either. I didn’t do this expecting anything in return. In fact, if you’ll remember, I was kind of an asshole about it. So how about you spend time with your kids? I’ve got beer at home.”

I pursed my lips. Despite not wanting to, I was starting to like this guy. But I wasn’t about to show that. To him or myself. Denial was best.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I’ll be here next week,” he replied with a wink, and before I could argue, he turned on his motorcycle boot and walked away. I watched him walk away, because it was a damn fine sight and I couldn’t help myself.

Fuck.Kace was a man of his word.

He turned up after lunch the next Sunday. Didn’t knock or anything, just parked his bike in the driveway, let himself into the garage and started mowing. Thankfully, the kids were out. Jack was two towns over playing in a soccer game. It was one of the other mothers in the team’s turn to carpool. If I was a good mother, I might’ve gone anyway, but it was bad enough that I had to sit through all the home games and have all of the mothers’ staring at me with pity, or worse coming up and trying to talk to me. That didn’t happen when I had Bex or Amy with me—they were far too intimidated by them to try it then—to ask me ‘how I was doing’. So I skipped away games when I could.

Lily was having a ‘spa day’ at Amy’s house with the rest of the Sons of Templar girls. It was still difficult for me to let the kids out of my sight. Though I knew that they’d be safe, that they’d come home to me, I still breathed a sigh of relief the second they returned home.

Despite how much I wished I could constantly hold them close, never let them go and try to protect them from the world, I couldn’t do that to them. I had to let them grow. Somehow had to figure out how to survive through their absences, with the truth that it would only get worse once they got older. Jack had already started turning into the man I knew he was going to be. Strong. Passionate. Stubborn. Determined to patch in to his father’s club.

Then there was Lily. Beautiful. Kind. Romantic. She was just like me. And she was growing up around many mini badasses. Yeah, I was in trouble.

Which was probably why Gwen came knocking at the door with two coffees and a paper bag filled with muffins, presumably it was her shift to make sure I was handling everything okay on my own. Now that I’d opened the floodgates by attending the party, it seemed like my self-imposed isolation was over.

The timing could not have been worse, considering she couldn’t have missed the man mowing my lawn.

Maybe she wouldn’t mention it.

Or maybe I was completely fucking delusional.

“I brought coffee and muffins, but the drive over here was long, and it’s hot, so if you’ve got anything cold and alcoholic, I wouldn’t say no,” Gwen chirped, walking through the door.

“I think I have something,” I mumbled.

“What is Kace doing here?” Gwen asked the second she sat down on a bar stool.

To be fair, I was expecting her to ask that question before she’d even got in the door, so she was showing restraint.