“Sorry, Zoey.” Leo twists his head and looks into the back seat. “I used a bad word. Do you have, like, a swear jar or something? Do I have to put in a quarter?”
Zoey’s eyes widen, and she looks at Leo adoringly. “Swear jar?” she repeats.
I chuckle. “No, Leo, we never had a swear jar. Zoey knows there are some words grown-ups use that kids should never say. It’s okay. Right, baby?”
Zoey nods sleepily, and she stares out the window at the green grass whizzing past the windows.
Now that I’m in the back seat, I don’t have to drive, I don’t have to concentrate on following the map, so I rest my head against the padded headrest and watch the world roll by. It’s been a long time since I could close my eyes against the demands of the day and just let someone else do the heavy lifting.
“So, tell me everything, man. You’re in an MC?” Leo, all of a sudden, seems to be fascinated with Morris.
“VP,” Morris confirms, nodding.
In the back seat, I’m just inches away from Morris’s broad shoulders. He’s wearing a light gray T-shirt under his leather vest, and his hair is cropped short on the sides but a little longer on the top. From the back, I can see the freckles dotting the back of his deeply tanned neck and the salt-colored strands of his hair that grow not only in his beard but in the smattering of hair on his muscular arms.
“MC?” I ask lazily, wondering how Morris’s shoulders would feel under my hands.
It seems insane that I’m even allowing myself to go there, fantasizing about a man I hardly know, while I’m still technically married to someone else. But Jerry hasn’t been the husband of my heart for a very, very long time.
Did we ever have a relationship, I wonder? Or was it always about transactions?
Him paying for my time and company. Me playing the role of the dutiful wife and mother.
Him going full villain the moment the ink dried on our marriage license.
“Motorcycle club,” Leo supplies excitedly. “Fuck, man—I mean fudge. Fudge. I have wanted to be in a club since I was a kid!”
“Can you ride?” Morris asks.
“Had my license since I was seventeen,” Leo says proudly.
I wonder what the relationship between the two of these guys is. Friends?
Leo seems enamored of Morris, like he’s learning things about the man he didn’t know. I like getting to know him without having to ask a single question.
Morris nods. “It’s a lifestyle, not just a mode of transportation.”
“So, wait…” Leo’s voice catches. He signals and moves toward the slow lane to exit off the highway. “Are you guys like Sons of Anarchy bikers or more like Toys for Tots kind of thing?”
I have no idea what a son of anarchy is, but it sounds dangerous. Unpredictable. Sexy. A lot like Morris. But I do know Toys for Tots.
“We’re a little of both,” Morris says on a laugh. “We’re in the process of changing.”
And that, I can most definitely see. Rough and hardened, but not criminal. Protective and abrasive, but sweet, almost teddy-bearish underneath it all. I wonder what a man like Morris is like in bed. I give myself a start, picturing his beard against my body, the delicious friction of his skin against mine. I press my eyes closed to will away the vision.
“Which club, man? What are you guys, like, the Vipers or the Devils?” Leo rattles off several more names that sound more like a list of hazardous animals than the names of anything I’d imagine Morris is a member of.
“We were the Disciples,” Morris says. “We have a compound out near where we’re headed, but things are gonna be different.”
“Why did you buy my brother’s place?” Leo asks. “Are you guys expanding? You going to open up another club?”
Morris shakes his head. “Something like that.” He turns a little to face me, including me in the conversation. “We just bought a commercial strip mall between Orlando and Daytona,” he explains. “Turns out, Leo’s brother owned the place before me.”
I meet his eyes and mentally add to the list of things this guy is.
Unexpectedly considerate.
Thoughtful.
A business owner.
A biker.
“What do you plan to do with the strip mall?” I ask.
Morris settles back and faces front. “Good question. I was there this morning for the first time, doing some recon on the place. See what’s there that’s useful, what we need to renovate. We bought it at auction, so no pictures, no inspection ahead of time. Basically bought it sight unseen.”
I nod and file that detail away. It kind of fits this man. I can’t imagine Jerry doing anything without a team of overpriced blowhard lawyers and years of “due diligence.”
Somehow it fits what I already know about Morris—that he’d roll up, buy something, and then just expect it to turn out okay. I wish I had that kind of faith. Maybe it’s something I can learn from him.
I rest my head back against the cushion while Leo asks Morris about the club’s business, their structure, and how they make money.
Morris seems open to the questions, even the ones that make me wince a little, they’re so personal. Almost prying. But I get the sense that Leo’s an earnest kid just trying to learn as much as he can. It’s like when a fan meets a famous athlete. They want to ask all their questions about how the person does what they do before their few moments with their idol come to an end.
It’s sweet, actually.
Morris has his arm on the hard plastic armrest by the window, and I can see he tries to look at me in the passenger side mirror every once in a while.
Our eyes meet, and a warmth floods through my body.
I like this man.
I trust this man.
I haven’t felt safe like this, in a car with two virtual strangers, in all the years I’ve been with Jerry. In as long as I can remember, if I’m being honest. Maybe never.
I smile and close my eyes, listening to the road noises and the deep sound of Morris’s voice as the miles slip past.
For a moment, I let myself think about a future. A future without fear. Without that angry voice constantly barking at me, at Zoey, at everything and everyone. Just thinking about Jerry and his voice, his anger, breaks the few moments of peace I have. The stability and calm I let wash over me like a blanket is torn back, and I suddenly feel the chill of the air conditioning on my skin.
I don’t know these men.
Morris, Leo. But I do know men.
They start out one way, but then the minute they get what they want, they change. Show their true colors. Zoey’s dad did. Jerry after him.
I don’t think I need a bearded biker in my life to prove the point. I get it. My daughter and I are on our own. We’re gonna need to make our own way.
In a couple days, I’ll be in a cheap motel someplace, Zoey will be in a brand-new school, a public school this time, and I’ll be serving up blue plate specials, just hoping I make enough in tips to cover after-school care.
I know that’s my future.
I know that’s what’s ahead.
I’ve been there before, and I’ll go back. It’s what I have to do to take care of my baby. To take care of myself.
But for a little longer, I’m in the back seat of a big, comfy truck. I have two quiet men who seem to want nothing but to give without exacting a hefty price from me. Jerry doesn’t know where I am, and no matter how many times he calls my phone, for a little longer, I can ignore him.