Truth be told, I was leaning toward laughing, and if I wasn’t already in Phoenix, I would have turned back.
This was not about Buck being the king of our castle.
This was because I liked having my mouth around his cock.
And his between my legs.
And…other.
“I’m nearing the 101,” I told him, informing him I was in Phoenix proper and nowhere near turning back.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” I offered.
“No, you’ll make it up to me when I get to work, blinds closed, doors locked, babe.”
Oh my.
Adventurous.
We weren’t exactly in a rut.
But it was always good to take preventative measures on that kind of thing.
“Okay,” I whispered, then changed the subject. “Tatiana just called me. She’s already been into it with her mom this morning.”
“Fuck,” he muttered again, annoyed gone, frustrated in its place.
One could say Buck felt for his children’s plight.
Like, a whole lot.
And as such, he felt hemmed in that he was powerless to do much about it.
“Buck,” I started, pulled in breath, gathered courage, and stated, “honey, you need to do something about that.”
“Right. You got any bright ideas?”
“Hire an attorney and get custody of your kids.”
“Tried that,” he replied.
“Try again,” I suggested.
“Puts them through the wringer, Toots. They get their hopes up, I get fucked, then they get fucked. I don’t like them to experience that and I don’t like bein’ fucked.”
“Okay, then hire an investigator and then hire an attorney. I’ll talk to Tatie. She can start taking notes. They’re old enough to talk to a judge and tell them where they want to be. She shares how Kristy is, Gear corroborates it, your investigator gets dirt on Kristy or Knuckles, maybe the result will be different.”
“Two can play that game, Toots, and I ain’t dirty, but the MC hasn’t always been clean. We do not wanna go there.”
We probably didn’t.
“Try anyway, just not the investigator.”
“Clara—”
“She’s in a bad way, Buck. You know it, but she trusts me, she shares, and as bad as you know it is, I’m telling you, it’s worse. Try anyway.”
“As bad as I know it is, it’s worse?” he asked, the toxin threading through his tone.
Oh boy.
“If it was that bad, honey, I’d tell you,” I said soothingly. “But yes, it’s worse.”
He was silent for long seconds before he muttered, “I’ll call the Club’s attorney.”
I let out a breath.
Then I said, “You need to call Tat, later, after school. She needs to rest in the knowledge that you’re doing something to help out.”
“I’ll call her, babe.”
“Thanks, Buck,” I whispered.
He was silent again for long seconds, before I heard him say, “Love that you look after my girl, gorgeous.”
And I loved doing it.
And I really liked him calling me “gorgeous.”
“I’m glad,” I said softly.
“You didn’t bake last night. You swingin’ by to get the staff donuts?”
“No. Cookies from Safeway. That’s why I left early, it’s out of my way.”
“Save me some.”
“I’ll try, but Jimbo’s been hungrier than normal.”
“Jimbo eats more a’ your shit, Toots, Jimbo will stop bein’ useful ’cause he won’t fit in the aisles of the store.”
This was unfortunately true.
Jimbo was a big man when I met him, and he was growing.
“I’m uncertain of my desire to discuss diet and nutrition with Jimbo and equally uncertain of my willingness to wrest a cookie from him.”
Buck’s chuckle came at me from the phone.
That made me feel warm and sweet too.
“Remember, babe,” he finally said, still chuckling, “your man’s got your back.”
Without saying good-bye or letting me do it, he disconnected.
I dropped my phone on the passenger seat and headed to Safeway.
I did this thinking of my phone calls that morning.
I also did it thinking of the post-sex conversation Buck and I had the night Tatie and Gear went back to Flag last weekend.
I was on top of him, draped down his body, where I had noted he liked me to be, especially post-sex.
I had also noted I liked to be there too, post-sex or whenever.
He had his arm around my waist, where it normally was, his other hand, though, usually wandered.
But that night, he’d cupped it to the back of my head, holding my cheek to his chest.
He’d then asked, “Do you miss it?”
I stared at his shoulder, but I felt my body tense.
“Sorry?” I asked.
Buck rolled me to my back, positioning his long, hard frame body down my side, but his chest was pressed to mine, his face close.
This position change, I felt, was important, denoting this conversation was important, and I felt my breath get funny.
“Do you miss it?” he repeated.
“No,” I said quickly.
I then kept talking.
And I also did this quickly.
“No, Buck. Never. The house was big, and we had a nice pool and the pulls in the drawers in the bathroom had Swarovski crystals in them. Rogan did it all up just so, meticulous, top-of-the-line everything. I had a big soaking tub I could spend ages in. And I loved doing that. Unwinding with a good book and a glass of wine in the tub. But I don’t miss it. I don’t miss any of it. I prefer your deck. And your room, which is all warm colors and filled with Buck smells. And the quiet. And the peace. And knowing, during the week, we’ll have the kids back on the weekend so the house will seem busy and full. But I also like it, just you and me for Pop-Tarts in the morning and at night in front of the TV. I’ve never slept as good in my life as I have in this bed. So, no. I don’t miss it.”