Page 71 of Thornhill Road

“Lance,” I tried once more.

I gasped in surprise when he yanked his hands from his pockets and pulled me into his arms. He held me so tightly my own arms were pinned to my sides. I froze and tried to assess exactly what was happening.

For a moment, he just hugged me. Thinking it was something he needed, I let him. When I felt his nose tickle my neck, I began to squirm in his hold.

“Lance? What are you—?”

“I don’t want to leave it to chance,” he said, his hands moving across my back, as if he was exploring me.

I was beginning to panic, my breaths coming short and fast as I continued to try and wriggle out of his hold. His lips touched my jaw just when I was able to yank my hands free and shove them against his chest.

“Lance!”

My tone and my touch were enough to get him to take a step back, and we stared at each other for what felt like ages, but was probably only ten seconds, as I tried to get my breathing under control.

When I had my wits about me, I calmly but firmly explained, “I understand this is a difficult time. You’re hurting, and you’re longing for comfort. I’m sorry, but I cannot be that for you. It’s not appropriate. Please—please go back inside and be with your family.”

He balled his hands into fists and released them a couple of times, then took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “I’m sorry. Shit timing,” he said, taking another step away from me. He ran his fingers through his hair, shook his head, then continued, “I—I can’t go back in there. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

I watched him leave before I sank my fingers in my own hair, pulling it away from my face and clinching it into my fists as I tried to shake off what just happened. While Lance’s behavior hadn’t come as a total surprise, it still totally sucked, and I was definitely ready to get out of there. Preferring to be inside with the others and not alone when Lance returned, I went back into the house to wait for the funeral home staff to arrive.

It was another forty-five minutes before Sharon’s body was collected. Sad as it was to say goodbye to Mitchell, Renee, and their daughters, I was relieved to close myself into the confines of my car, and happy I’d tossed my overnight bag in the backseat before I left home.

Lance had come back to see his mother taken away but didn’t say a word to me before I left. I’d told him earlier that maybe we’d see each other around town, but as I pulled out of Sharon’s driveway and onto Ramshorn Avenue for the last time, I hoped it wasn’t true.

I headed straight to Steel Mustang. The parking lot looked like it usually did on a Saturday night just before the headline band took the stage—full. Nonetheless, guessing by the number of motorcycles parked out front, I assumed the crowd was a little smaller than it had been the week before, no out-of-town Stallions around to party hard all night. As I approached theentrance, I didn’t feel a thrill of excitement at the prospect of going inside, but I did feel a longing I couldn’t put into words.

When I stepped through the door, Wrangler was there, leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. He jerked his chin at me in greeting and I waved before making my way back toward the bar. The second my eyes landed on Mustang, that longing I felt intensified. He was busy, handing off a couple draft beers to a customer, but I didn’t have to wait long before he noticed me.

When his hands were free, as if he felt my stare, he looked over at me, and those eyes of his made me stop dead in my tracks. He studied me a moment, then muttered something to Phoenix before making his way out from behind the bar. I watched him disappear behind one swinging door only to watch him prowl through another. I reached for him as he drew near, and he didn’t stop until I was burrowed deep into his chest, one of his arms wrapped tight around my back, his other raised so he could bury his fingers in my hair. I slid my arms underneath his kutte, splaying my hands across the hard surface of his back.

I closed my eyes, breathed in deep, and held on tight.

The scent of leather, fresh air, and pine engulfed me.

Instantly, I felt safe and far from alone.

My man held me until I was ready to let go.

Right there, in the middle of his bar.

Like he didn’t care where we were.

And I loved it.

When I pulled away enough to look up at him, he loosened his hold on me, then signaled with a tilt of his head toward the exit. I nodded, and he tucked me under his arm as we headed back toward the door I’d just entered. Once outside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, dangling from an otherwise empty ring.

“Code to the garage is oh-four-two-five. MK’s birthday, if that’ll help you remember.”

I took the key, repeating the number aloud.

“You remember how to get there?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Things taper off, I’ll put Wrangler behind the bar, be home as soon as I can.”

I didn’t tell him how much I wanted that. I didn’t want to be needy.