Page 59 of Legacy

Can I really give Bea the life she deserves?

A warm palm lands on my forearm, and I look down to see Reagan glancing up at me. Like she senses that I’m falling apart.

“You’ve got this.” She smiles. “Bea’s amazing. Be proud of what you’ve done.”

My throat clogs as Reagan squeezes my arm and walks away. I’m tempted to stop her—to tell her to come with us to school. But as Bea runs to my side and wraps her arms around my leg, my fears leave me paralyzed.

It all feels too good.

Too right.

Reagan living under my roof. Taking care of my daughter and making room for her in her life.

There’s nothing more terrifying than letting myself think this could last.

17

Reagan

Jesse didn’t come backto the house after taking Bea to school, so he must have headed to the clubhouse to work. Or maybe he’s sleeping there since I know he didn’t sleep last night. It would be an easy way to avoid me.

He barely met my gaze this morning, and even if I shouldn’t have expected more from him, it hurts seeing how much he regrets what we did. And with Margaret out for the afternoon and Bea starting school today, I have all the time in the world to stew in those thoughts.

I replay the past twenty-four hours while I clean the house top to bottom, trying not to think about it.

Music was supposed to help, but every song makes me think about Jesse in one way or another. In one night, we’ve managed to crack our already fragile dynamic.

At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before he kicks me out to save himself the trouble of facing what we did. After all, he made it clear—he’s not the kind of guy whoentertains relationships that last longer than a night. And he definitely doesn’t bring them anywhere near Bea.

We’ve crossed more than one line of his.

I couldn’t help myself. Standing in front of Jesse last night, I was lost in his eyes. I needed to see every side of this man who is the most intricate puzzle. A man who stays up all night working for his club but still finds time to bedazzle his daughter’s backpack first thing in the morning.

The biker.

The father.

The protector.

And now the sex god.

Because holy crap. Whatever he did to my body under the stars defied the laws of the universe. He fucked me like he was mad at me for how much he wanted me, and I drowned in it.

He fucked me like he wanted to ruin me, and I begged him to do it.

I’ve been the good girl my whole life. The good daughter. The protective sister. I did what was necessary to make everyone around me happy. But last night with Jesse, I wanted a taste of the freedom everyone else talks about.

I wanted to make a bad decision and not second-guess it. To prove to Jesse that I can handle it.

Or maybe I wanted to prove it to myself.

After all, people fuck dirty and walk away all the time. Clearly, Jesse is one of them. He has a bedroom dedicated to that purpose at the clubhouse.

Who says I’m not allowed to do the same?

Except now he’s in my veins. Clawing at my chest. Pulsing in my core. One thought of Jesse and I’m frozen, standing at the counter with the wet sponge, leaving a puddle on the tile with how hard I’m squeezing it.

It’s pathetic.

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