Page 10 of Legacy

My home.

Not hers.

There’s no way in hell I’ll keep my sanity if I have to share this space with her. Not to mention, letting her stay would be admitting that Margaret isn’t going to get better, and I really need a replacement. While I know the inevitable is coming, every fiber in my being resists what’s happening.

Margaret has lived with us since my daughter was two months old. She’s been a mother to Bea and a secondmother to me. I trust Margaret with my daughter and the secrets of my club. But that doesn’t mean I can explicitly trust her great-niece.

Especiallywhere Bea is concerned.

Reagan is a firecracker who’s sure to blow town the second she realizes she could be doing something so much better with her life. Bea has already had her mother walk out on her. She’s watched Margaret slowly get sicker. The last thing she needs is another woman to break her heart.

I sit up and swing my legs off the bed, knowing what awaits outside my door is inevitable. Still, I take a long shower and don’t hurry to get dressed. If I thought I could intercept Bea before she clings to Reagan, I would. But given the giggles already echoing up the staircase, there’s no chance of that.

Which means I’m going to have to go down there and make it clear Reagan isn’t staying.

The smell of breakfast starts to filter upward, dragging me out of my room. I pass by the front door and shrug my cut over my T-shirt. While I usually leave it hanging until I’m ready to leave for the day, today, it’s a statement more than anything.

Reagan needs to understand that this is who I am and what I represent.

Turning the corner, I pause as the kitchen comes into view. More specifically, when the woman in front of me comes into view.

Reagan doesn’t hear my footsteps over the music playing from her phone. Her back is to me, showingoff her perfect hourglass figure. A trim waist turns to luscious curves as her round ass sways back and forth with every beat as she sings along to the music. A pendulum of bad ideas sway back and forth.

The kind of shit I really need to stop considering before I act on them.

Her honey-blonde hair is pulled up in a messy bun on her head, showing off the gentle curve of her neck. Her T-shirt and jeans hug her hourglass curves. Her entire outfit is so tight, it’s temptation at its finest.

I curl my hands into fists and swallow down the urge to sink my fingers into her hips, blaming it on the fact that it’s just been too long since I’ve fucked anyone. Except her beauty isn’t the problem. Yes, she’s got the looks, but what pulls me is something that pisses me off as much as it draws me to her.

She’s fiery—stubborn.

She’s fucking magnetic.

Reagan spins around and smirks because she caught me staring at her ass. The corner of her mouth curves with a sinful little smile that is practically a challenge.

“Enjoying the show?” She winks.

She fucking winks.

If I thought pushy Reagan was difficult last night, feisty Reagan might be the end of me.

Ignoring that thought—and her question—I step into the kitchen and turn down the music on her phone, hearing Bea’s giggles now coming from down the hall near Margaret’s room.

“It’s rude to blast music when people are still sleeping.” Not that I heard it upstairs, but it gives me something to say.

Her eyes narrow, annoyance blooming the most beautiful flicker of heat in her gaze. “Do you always sleep until almost ten, Jesse?”

“It’s Legacy,” I remind her, but my correction only widens her grin, making it clear sheforgoton purpose. “And I fail to see how my sleep schedule is any of your business when you’re leaving.”

“Right… Leaving…” She rolls her eyes, stubborn as all hell. “How about breakfast first? Are you hungry? I made pancakes.”

She spins back to the stove, flipping one over. It’s perfectly golden brown.

Reagan doesn’t wait for me to answer as she continues talking. “I was planning on French toast, but you didn’t have cinnamon, so I had to get creative. I hope you don’t mind that I dug through the cabinets to find what I needed.”

“Why do I get the feeling that even if Ididmind, it wouldn’t have stopped you?”

She glances over her shoulder, smiling at me. “It wouldn’t have.”

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