Bucking Bear (Pounding Hearts 3)

Nodding my head, I say, “Got it.”

When we pull out of the garage, her mouth drops open when she sees the house in its entirety.

“Wow… your house is huge!”

I so want to say that’s not all that is huge, but I am pretty sure she already knows that.

We pull out onto the main road and my body seems to want to do things of its volition.

Reaching out, I grab her hand and hold it in mine. Her hand is so small compared to mine, but it feels right somehow.

She looks very tense for the first minute but then, looking over at me, I smile at her. Not my crazy - I am going to fuck you up during this fight - smile I do in the ring, but hopefully the one that says you are so mine now.

Chapter Two

Grace

Max is holding my hand as he drives, and honest to God I don’t know what to make of it.

After asking him for a ride to pick up Hope, I pretty much figured that was it, our little fling was over. Just like every other guy I’ve ever dated he’d tuck tail and run for the hills, especially now that he’s not getting in my pants.

But he didn’t bat an eye.

Hell, he was even quick to think of a car seat which makes me wonder if he has experience with kids. Most single people I know wouldn’t think of it. Something like that would have never crossed their mind.

He has a brand new blue Escalade and his house is huge, just like him, it’s very nearly a mansion. It’s tucked back on a secluded patch of land, surrounded by trees, and I can smell water in the air like there’s a lake nearby. I know I was gaping stupidly as he pulled out, but I couldn’t help it. It’s obvious he’s loaded.

We couldn’t be more different. He’s rich, and I’m a broke single mother. How did I end up here?

I work as a waitress and still live with my parents. I could probably move into my own place if I wanted to, especially now that Carson is finally paying child support, but it would be so much harder. My parents adore Hope, and have been very supportive since the moment I told them I was pregnant, encouraging me to keep her. Without them I would be lost, doing everything by myself.

Carson taking Hope every other weekend is something that has only started recently.

In the beginning, when I was pregnant, Carson had all the intentions of stepping up and taking on the responsibility of being a father. After the shock of finding out I was pregnant wore off, and his parents calmed down, he had all these grand plans and dreams for us and her. Plans that went up in smoke as soon as she was born and he changed his first diaper.

I suppose reality was just too much for him to handle. And I can relate, I honestly can, the amount of work a newborn baby takes was a hell of a shock to me too. But unlike me, I guess he felt like he had the choice to walk away from the responsibility, putting it all on me. After high school he went on to play football in a college out of state.

Me? After high school I couldn’t afford to go to college so I took a waitressing job at the local restaurant chain, Thursdays. I tried to get some financial help from Carson, but being a college student who chose to party instead of work, he always claimed he didn’t have any money to give me.

I sigh, staring out the window as the car slows and we pull into Carson’s Subaru lot. Max squeezes my hand like he’s trying to comfort or reassure me. Lost in my thoughts, I totally forgot he was holding my hand, squeezing it like he doesn’t want to let go of me.

It just feels so natural, so right. The feel of his skin against my skin. The strength of his grip, the kind of strength that makes me feel like he can protect me. And I shouldn’t like it, I shouldn’t read too much into it, but what am I to think? Especially when I pull on my arm a little and he squeezes harder, smirking. Not willing to let go of me.

Is he still interested in me?

He can’t be, especially because he’s

already being dragged into my baby daddy drama, and we’ve only known each other less than twenty-four hours.

Not to mention after what just happened in his bed, he must be suffering from a serious case of blue balls.

“Here good?” he asks, parking in one of the spots next to the customer entrance.

I nod my head and he finally releases my hand to shift the gear into park. Now that he’s no longer touching me, the nerves settle in. How is this going to go?

Ever since Carson moved back home and took over this car lot, I feel like he’s been a wild card. I never know what he’s going to do.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot Carson a quick text to let him know I’m here. He’s probably watching for my beat-up Camry and not an Escalade that costs more than my parents’ house.