Page 5 of Bringing Home the Bad Boy

I stare out the window at the snow-covered landscape. The world is quiet, and the sky is painted with the last lavender andpeach sunset colors. But my mind is anything but peaceful. I can't get Noel out of my head. I remember the first time I saw her, standing in the barn, laughing with her cousins. Her smile was bright enough to light up every damn corner. My vision tunneled. Everything else faded away until only she remained.

She had this way about her—soft and radiant like sunlight breaking through clouds. Her hair, a cascade of golden waves, framed her delicate face. Her cheeks flushed with laughter, and her eyes... those eyes saw straight through me. Made me feel ten feet tall. I'd turned twenty-one, but her eyes made me feel like a man. Like I could slay all her dragons and conquer the world. It took a few more years to realize that being a man wasn't about any of that macho bullshit. It was about handling your responsibilities and not walking away when shit got hard.

She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. It was how she carried herself—shy, almost fragile, yet there was a strength beneath the surface. She didn't demand attention, but it was impossible not to notice her. I found excuses to be near her. If she was heading to the store, I'd suddenly needed something. When she walked back from the library, I'd offer to carry her books. Sundays were the best. She'd sit under the gazebo, reading, and I'd watch from a distance until I finally gathered the courage to join her.

I wore her down, bit by bit until she let me in. Her father didn't make it easy. A cold-hearted man who was as harsh with her as he was with everyone else. The things he said to her and how he made her doubt herself made my blood boil. I wanted to protect her from all of it.

But then I had to leave. Forced out by that same man who couldn't stand the thought of his daughter with someone like me. I was too young to fight back, afraid of what might happen if I stayed.

Leaving Noel behind was the biggest mistake of my life.

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. "Daddy?"

"Come in, Jelly Belly," I call.

Jelena peeks around the door, holding a plate with a slightly misshapen cookie. "I saved this one for you."

I smile, my heart swelling. "Thank you, sweetheart." I take the cookie, pretending to inspect it. Holding it at a distance and turning it around and around. "Looks, um, delicious."

She giggles. "It's a snowman, but his head fell off."

"Well, headless snowmen taste the best." I take a bite, making an exaggerated sound of delight. "Mmm, perfect."

Her laughter fills the room, and for a moment, the weight lifts. She climbs into my lap, settling against me. "Will you read me a story before bed?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"Of course." I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. "Go pick one out, and I'll be right there." She hops down and scurries off, leaving me alone again.

I take a deep breath, looking back out the window. The darkness outside mirrors the uncertainty within me. But one thing is clear—I can't let Noel slip away again. I won't make the same mistake twice.

I pull out my phone and scroll to Bandit's number, hesitating for a moment before dialing. The line rings twice before he picks up.

"Trace," he says, his voice gruff. "Been waiting to hear from you."

"Yeah, sorry. Been busy settling in."

"How's Jelena?"

"She's good. Growing like a weed."

"And Rosalee?"

"Also, fine." I grunt. Bandit has been my MC brother since we patched in together. We're the best of friends, but Rosalee is our rare disagreement. He thinks she never really processed Trick'sdeath. Instead, she just moved on with her ready-made family. I see his point, but there's nothing wrong with working off grief. People grieve in different ways, I told him. But he responded that she's not grieving, she's running. I see his point, but Rosa is okay.

He finally sighs. "You need anything, you let me know. You know I'm here for you… All of you."

"I appreciate it, brother."

We end the call, and I sit there for a moment, the phone heavy in my hand.

"Daddy!" Jelena calls from down the hall.

"Coming!" I pocket the phone and push everything else aside. My daughter needs me, and that's all that matters.

Chapter 3

My hands are raisins. I’ve washed the last breakfast dish a hundred times. I tell students night and day to focus. But Trace has stripped my composure away, leaving my mind a tangled mess. I jump when my phone buzzes. My cousin Bryan's name flashes on the screen, and I hesitate before answering.

“Hey, you busy?”

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