Page 17 of Worth the Heat
“Butterscotch,” she answers.
“Boy or girl?”
“Boy.”
“Is he friendly?”
“For the most part,” she answers. I tentatively reach out my hand, letting Butterscotch sniff it, and he immediately begins purring as he butts his head up against my fingers.
“Where do you live?” she blurts out suddenly, making me jump slightly.
“About twenty minutes outside of Eternity. I wanted a lot of land for my guys. Some really struggle with transitioning back into civilian life after being active duty. Many admitted that they felt more peace when they didn’t feel claustrophobic.”
“I’m not following. Your guys?”
“The guys in my MC.”
She’s quiet for a moment before continuing. “So everyone is prior military? Is Alex part of it? Or Leo?”
“No, neither of your brothers are. They don’t ride.”
“I think Leo used to. Or maybe he just talked about wanting to get a motorcycle? Well, before …” she trails off. I know what she was about to say. Before his injury overseas. I still haven’t gotten the full story about what happened to Leo. He’s close-lipped about it, and none of his family seems to know. If I find out he used to ride, or if he has any interest in learning, I’m definitely inviting him to one of our events. It sounds like he could use some of the services my MC provides.
Turning onto my winding driveway, we pass by the Clubhouse where I can hear music playing somewhat loudly. The guys mostly keep it down after sunset, knowing sometimes sound can really travel here, and Camila has a routine bedtime of eight o’clock. Tonight she’s with my parents, who occasionally have her over for special sleepovers. I haven’t had time to text my parents to let them know about Isabella coming to stay with me, but I need to do that before morning.
I’ve never had a woman in my home before. Well, one that isn’t related to me. Sure, I’ve dated. But we’ve always stayed at the girl’s place instead of mine. But from the moment I met Isabella, I haven’t had a serious relationship.
The only woman I’ve ever wanted here is about to step foot inside for the first time, and I fucking hope she stays.
ISABELLA
As the long driveway curves around what I assume is the Clubhouse, I’m surprised to see a basketball court, what looks like a sand volleyball court, and an area with covered picnic tables. “Is that an ice rink?”
“In the winter, yeah. We remove the ice for the rest of the year, so anyone can use rollerblades there. We’ve even done some fun races with puppies that the guys have really enjoyed.”
“How do you race with puppies?” I ask, intrigued.
Sebastian looks over at me and winks, and my stomach does a somersault. “With food, obviously. One person holds the puppy at the starting line, then another is at the finish line with a treat. They’re puppies, so they have short attention spans. It’s pretty comical to watch the chaos.”
“And this is done just for fun?”
“Keeping up good morale, and showing how fun life can be, are important to guys struggling to find a place in civilian life. I’ll do just about anything to ensure that my guys know they have all the support they need. I refuse to lose —” he stops abruptly.
“Lose what?” I ask.
He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “I don’t want someone else to think they don’t have anyone. I can’t lose another friend that way.”
It takes me a moment to realize what he’s saying, and I gasp. “You lost someone? To suicide?”
He nods as he turns around another corner, but doesn’t elaborate. I look out the windshield as a home comes into view, and I immediately forget the conversation. What stands before me is quite possibly the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen.
It’s not massive, ostentatious, or elaborate. But it is spectacular. Cream stucco meets stone accents with large windows around a bright blue door. One room has a bay window, and a large chandelier is centered above the front door. The home faces east, and as the sun begins to set behind the Rockies, I can only imagine the breathtaking views from the back of the home.
When Sebastian pulls into a four-car garage off to the side of the home, lights immediately flicker to life inside the space. The walls are lined with shelves, meticulously organized. Besides his truck, there’s another car and his motorcycle, plus an extra space he appears to be using as a construction area. He has sports memorabilia hanging along one wall, including Denver Wolves items from Luca, and the Colorado Coyotes, our football team in Denver.
As soon as the engine is turned off, I open my door, but Sebastian puts a hand on my arm. “Wait until the garage door is closed.”
“Why?”
