Page 14 of Ace of Spades
CHAPTER FIVE
Nate loved Taylor’s foster mother. He didn’t want to think about how Taylor’s life would have turned out without Rosie. He opened his arms for the hug Rosie would give him, whether he liked it or not. He did.
“You naughty boy. Avoiding your Rosie,” she said, lifting her hands to their maximum reach to pinch his cheeks.
“Never,” he said, meaning it. The woman was a tiny spitfire. The thing he liked the most about her was that she never saw him as a threat. Sometimes—most times—the people he came in contact with shied away. He cultivated a menacing persona, needed to be a mean-assed sonofabitch to keep the biker gangs frequenting Aces & Eights in line. But Rosie? She’d seen through him from day one. He just hoped she never told Taylor he was a softie.
Against his will, his gaze slid to Taylor, who was currently on her back on the floor, buried by six giggling girls, ranging in ages from two to nine years old. Girls who would be lost in the system without Taylor and Rosie. His damn heart skipped a beat, and then another one.
He’d kissed her, which had been the biggest mistake of his life. He’d not thought about anything else since their lips had touched. He’dnot gotten a solid hour of sleep after returning home.Why not have an affair? You know you want her,the tiny, fork-wielding devil on his left shoulder had whispered in his ear.Because you’ll hurt her,the angel sitting on his other shoulder had quietly said.
“When are you going to stop fighting whatever demon it is that’s holding you back?” Rosie said, following his gaze. “You think I don’t see how you look at her?”
He could thank his father for his demons, and he had no choice but to fight them. Especially where Taylor was concerned. He knew the statistics. Had looked them up years ago.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, extracting himself from Rosie’s hold.
She snorted—actually snorted. “Sure you don’t, but something’s changed between you two. I knew it as soon as you both walked in. Just so you know, I’m betting on my girl.”
And that was why he hadn’t wanted to come today. Rosie had to be a witch, able to see things she shouldn’t. And yes, something sure as hell had changed between him and Taylor. Namely, that kiss. Sweet Jesus. He’d been poleaxed. Sucker punched by a woman he’d promised himself he’d never touch. And that knowledge had him thinking of asking for a transfer. That and the fact that Taylor didn’t have any intention of listening to him. He could tell her nine ways to Sunday that he’d only end up hurting her, but she’d stuffed her ears with balls of cotton.
Rosie slapped his arm. “Man up, Nathan. She’ll either make you or break you.”
“You’re imagining things, Rosie. There’s nothing going on between Taylor and me. You gonna offer me some of your delicious coffee or not?” She made the bestcafé con leche, a Latin latte made with steamed milk and a shot of potent Cuban coffee.
“Sí, sí.I have it brewing. Come sit.” She flitted off on size-four feet encased in pink-heeled slippers with pom-poms on them.
Instead of following her into the kitchen where she could start on him again, Nate moved to the sofa where he could watch Taylor and the girls. All but the two-year-old were dressed in their school uniforms. Most mornings, Taylor tried to be here to walk them to the Catholic school two blocks away.
Years earlier, Taylor and Rosie had managed to qualify as foster parents. Fortunately, Rosie had put her foot down, saying six was her limit, after the oldest girl, nine-year-old Brianna, had arrived. Otherwise, Nate figured if Taylor had her way, there’d be at the very least a baker’s dozen living here. He also knew this was where a good chunk of Taylor’s paycheck went, since what they received from the state wasn’t nearly enough to cover expenses.
What Taylor didn’t know, because she would have refused his help, was that he slipped Rosie a couple hundred dollars whenever he visited. Rosie, bless her little self, had no qualms about taking his money, telling him the first time he’d offered, “I have no pride where my babies are concerned.” She also liked that they shared a secret from Taylor and had devised a scheme where he would slip the bills between the sofa cushions when Taylor wasn’t looking. Rosie was a sneaky devil and had charmed the hell out of him from day one.
“Here you are,” Rosie said, handing him the latte. She set the second cup down on the coffee table. “Girls, go make your lunches while Taylor has her coffee.”
He listened as Rosie filled Taylor in on how the girls were doing in school and any problems that had cropped up. In her early sixties, Taylor’s guardian angel had more energy packed in her small frame than most twenty-year-olds.
When Taylor and Rosie went into the kitchen to hurry the girls up, Nate pushed two one-hundred-dollar bills between the cushions before following them. He enjoyed watching Rosie and Taylor interact with the girls. This house was so different than the one he’d grown up in. There was love and laughter instead of yelling and beatings.
The only reason Taylor didn’t live here anymore was because Rosie had kicked her out, believing Taylor needed a life away from the responsibilities of raising six children.
For the first few times he’d come here with Taylor, the girls had been afraid of him, and he hadn’t wanted to come back. But Rosie wasn’t having it, so he came with Taylor whenever he was invited. The girls had gotten used to him, but except for Annie, they were still shy around him. Each had a sad story that could break a heart, mostly from being abused in one way or the other by men.
The only one who seemed to like him was the baby, who was now trying to crawl up his leg. He leaned down. “What does Annie want?”
“Up, Nae,” she said, tugging on his pants.
He picked her up. Her learning disabilities and poor language skills were a result of being born to a meth-addicted mother.
“Walk now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It had become a tradition for him to walk with Taylor and the girls to school whenever he was here, him carrying Annie. She was a cute little thing with her big black eyes, curly black hair, and dark-brown skin.
She gave him a toothy grin as she patted his face. “Nae walk, Nae walk, Nae walk now,” she sang, bouncing in his arms.
The trip to the school took about five minutes, and Nate trailed behind Taylor and the other girls, listening to Annie chatter away. He only understood half of her conversation, but she didn’t seem to care as long as he said “Oh, yeah?” the few times she paused and looked inquiringly at him.
These mornings he spent with Rosie and Taylor’s little family were weird. The other mothers and a few fathers would greet them, believing he and Taylor were a couple, and she never disabused them of that assumption. Too often, he let himself pretend they were, the little boy who’d never felt the kind hand of his father, longing to be a part of the loving family Taylor had created. He needed to cut that shit out. They didn’t need him in their lives.
