An hour and a half after the meet, Buck navigated the various cars in his drive to park, exit his vehicle and climb the stairs to his front door.
Gear, Damian, Ink and Raymundo were sitting out on the deck under a space heater.
“Take my wise advice, Dad,” Gear said. “Do not go in there.”
Buck looked through the windows into his house.
There was the hugest-ass Christmas tree he’d ever seen in the corner covered in so many ornaments, you could only just make out there was a tree under there somewhere.
It was lit bright.
There was a fire in the fireplace.
Tia was on the floor in front of the fire with some little kids, putting together a puzzle.
He moved his eyes left.
Clara was in the kitchen with Tatie, Mrs. Jimenez, Minnie, Lorie, Raymundo’s wife Griselle and some other kids, and it looked like a red and green icing bomb had exploded in it, detonating some little silver and gold balls along with it.
Though, it was mostly icing.
Icing was everywhere.
Including in Clara’s hair.
“Gingerbread men decoration,” Gear informed him. “She wants to make sure Mrs. J can take a tin full of ’em to all her kids.”
“I have one brother and two sisters,” Raymundo shared, grinning. “And a warning, hermano, Ma’s got all the grandkids in there.”
He’d already seen that.
“Correction, Clara wants to make sure they each have a huge-ass tin,” Gear amended.
“You go in there, tell them you gotta come right back out with fresh beers,” Damian suggested a way out.
Though it was more an order because Buck could see he was almost dry.
“I’m making you all hamburgers,” Buck reminded them of the reason they were all there.
“You got ’em formed yet?” Ink asked.
“No,” Buck answered.
“Good luck with that,” Ink muttered, belting back another slug of beer.
Buck let out a deep breath and headed to the door.
“Buck,” Damian called.
He stopped and looked at Damian.
“Tia and Clara, never in their lives, surrounded by people and little kids, made gingerbread men,” he stated.
He didn’t have to be reminded.
But the reminder still served its purpose.
This had been, from the minute Rogan Kirk bit it, a situation.
Because Buck had only wanted to make certain Clara knew she had her people and they had her back.
What he’d done in actuality was show her she had a big family, and she’d made it her meaning in life to take care of it.
Pure Clara.
This was the first icing bomb that had exploded.
But he’d formed a fuckuva lot of hamburgers since that day.
He walked into his house.
“Daddy!” Tatie cried and raced to him.
She had icing in her hair too.
She’d also never made gingerbread men in her kitchen with her family.
“Hey, Buck!” Tia greeted.
“Hola, West,” Mrs. J called.
“Yo, bro,” Minnie said.
“Hiya, Buck,” Lorie called.
But Clara just looked at him, her gorgeous face soft and sweet and happy her man was home.
Tatie hit him, and he put his arms around his girl.
“We’re making gingerbread men. Doesn’t it smell awesome?”
It totally did.
“Yeah, honey,” he murmured, grinning down at her and giving her a squeeze.
She glowed up at him, squeezed him back, then let him go and dashed off, grabbing a little kid and throwing him in the air, the kid squealing as she did.
And she went right back to Clara.
Jesus, not five months ago she was on the floor of the bathroom, beat to shit, having managed by a miracle to escape three assholes intent on altering her life for the extent of it in ways she’d never completely recover from.
This escape happening after they’d altered her life in a way he knew, and it tore him apart every time he thought about it, she’d never completely recover from.
Now, she didn’t go out and party and get drunk. She dated that guy. Hung with her friends. Stayed home and did her homework when she had homework to do.
And worshiped at the altar of Clara.
She was getting a car for Christmas, Clara’s idea, but Buck agreed completely.
Cruise had found it. A vintage, drop-top Mustang.
It was parked down at the warehouse. Driver and Gash had agreed to get it up to the house sometime late Christmas Eve, early Christmas morning.
She’d love it.
He had no idea if she had dark times. He just knew from Clara, “Debbie has that covered.”
He also knew, if Clara hadn’t been around, the girl he had would not be the same girl.
He would hope he’d find the means to be what she needed him to be and give her what she needed in order to push through.
But it could not be denied, he was lucky in more than the countless ways he was already that Clara was around when that shit went down.
He said hey to Griselle, got attacked by a couple of kids, and finally made it to his woman.
He got a lip touch then a sober, “Talk to you a minute?”
Oh shit.
He nodded.
She didn’t delay and took him to their bedroom.
When she closed the door, he informed her, “You have icing in your hair.”
Her hands flew up.
“Really?” she asked.
“Babe, do not touch your hair with those hands.”
She dropped her green-and-red-stained hands that still had bits of liquid-sugar encrusted on them, and looked at them.
Then she giggled to herself.
Christ.
Christ.
She was happy.
He gave her that.
Icing in her hair and a huge-ass Christmas tree she and Tatie kept coming home from wherever they went with more and more new ornaments for, and that giggle.
He gave her all of that.
The very idea of something happening to him and his kids going into the system made him feel the need to hurl.
Her story wasn’t the worst, but it was not good from the moment of birth to the moment she’d walked into the Dive.
And now he could hear Christmas music, chatter, and smell even their bedroom reeked of cookies.
And his woman was giggling.
No matter he felt that down deep in his gut, and it was the best feeling he’d had except the moment he’d learned both his kids had come safe and healthy into the world, he wanted to get this over with.
Clara’s “talk to you a minutes” came often these days.
That was because the woman was loaded, and Christmas was coming.
He’d already nixed her paying for Tatie’s car, but barely.
He’d nixed her renting some luxury house in Mexico for Gear and all his buds—from there and from Flag—for their senior spring break, but barely.
He’d nixed her footing the bill for a top-of-the-line family whale watching cruise in Alaska (of all fucking things), but barely.
It came to the point he’d had to throw her a bone, so they were going skiing in Vail after Christmas. That said, they were splitting the cost of it.
He was a biker. He didn’t ski.
But the kids boarded.
So the kids could board, and he and Clara could fuck.
In other words, that worked.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.
“Sorry?” she asked.
“Whatever you got in your head to give to one of the kids, ask me. I’ll say no, since it’s probably diamonds for Tatie or a world tour for Gear, then I can start forming burgers. I got mouths to feed.”
“I’m done Christmas shopping,” she shared.
Thank fuck for that.
They’d run out of room under the tree a week ago, so that shit had started spreading all over the floor.
“Kristy called.”
He felt his body jerk.
“Come again?” he asked.
“Kristy called,” she repeated.
“Tatie?”
“No.”
“Gear?”
She shook her head.
He heard a hissing in his head and whispered, “You?”
“Yes. But—”
“She called you.”
“Yes. And—”
“Personally. Your phone.”
She nodded. “Yes, West. But, listen—”
“How’d she get your number?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Now—”
He pulled his phone out and engaged it.
He didn’t get further because her hand was around his wrist.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Calling her ass and making it clear you are off fuckin’ limits for her.”
“Buck, she asked what the kids wanted for Christmas,” she said softly.
Jesus.
“Seriously?”
“And she wanted to know, since they both dissed her for Christmas stuff, if we could do a day-after-Christmas thing. Like a lunch or something.”
Buck stared at her.
“I told her we were going to Vail the day after—”
“Babe, that’s a surprise and she’s gonna share that shit,” he growled.
“No. I told her it was their present and she promised she wouldn’t.”
She got closer and dropped his wrist but fitted her tits to his chest.
He could smell her.
See the bright in her eyes.
And feel her.
So he suddenly felt a whole lot better about just about everything.
“She wasn’t exactly nice, but she was polite. I think she was a little embarrassed she had to ask. But she did. And she said she’d be cool to wait to do an after-New-Years thing.”
“Right,” he muttered, sliding his hands along her waist.
“And I told her it’d be cool for her to come down and deliver her gifts. Not tomorrow. We’re visiting Locke tomorrow. So I said the day after. If you agreed. And she agreed if you agree. So…do you agree?”
“She wants the kids here when she drops them?”
“That’d be optimal.”
“It’s up to them, Toots.”
She nodded.
“The after-New-Years thing is up to them too.”
She nodded again.
“I’ll tell Kristy that. I don’t want her to think she has a line to you.”
“It wasn’t a terrible conversation, West. And it was for good reasons.”
“I’ll talk to Kristy. I don’t want her to think she has a line to you,” he mostly repeated.
Again, she nodded, but this time, she put her hands on his shoulders when she did.
“You’re gonna get icing on me,” he murmured, having lost interest in the conversation with her mouth that close.
“Do you care?”
“Fuck no.”
“I didn’t think so. Are we gonna make out?’
“Fuck yes.”
“I thought so. But, West, we can’t do it for ages. We have comp—”
He kissed her quiet.
He didn’t do it for ages.
And when he was done, they both had to go to the bathroom and brush icing out of their hair.
She giggled through doing this.
Buck enjoyed listening to her giggle through it.
After, they rejoined their company.
He formed burgers.
He grilled them.
The women cleared away the cookie shit and got down to frying tots, slicing tomato and onion and sorting other hamburger stuff.
He fed their family.
And it was Buck’s estimation they overstayed their welcome.
But seeing Clara, ass on the floor in front of the tree, leaning against Gear, who had his arms around her, both of them talking and laughing…
He couldn’t find it in him to give much of a shit.
“You want an early Christmas present?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain you’re sure you’re sure?”
Buck rolled his woman off him onto her back and looked at her through the moonlight.
Everyone was gone.
The kids were out.
They’d just finished fucking.
They didn’t have a long drive tomorrow to see his dad.
But it was late, he’d come hard, he’d made her do the same, and he needed sleep.
And now she was giving him this.
“Is it another set of underwear?” he asked.
“Nooooooo.” She drew that out.
“Is it a trip around the world?”
“Do you want a trip around the world?”
“No.”
“Then, no.”
Fuck.
“Was it a trip around the world?” he asked.
“Buck, just let me give it to you.”
She wanted to give him something?
She dug doing that (and she did)?
He’d let her do it.
“Right. Go for it.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Buck grew solid.
“And it’s confirmed. Like, not pregnancy-test pregnant. Doctor-test pregnant. So we can tell Locke and the kids tomorrow!” she stated gleefully.
“Were we trying?” he asked.
“Well,” she said, now hesitant, “only in the sense that you seemed to want to have a baby. And I’m not twenty-two anymore. You aren’t either. And we have our wedding planned for the day after Valentine’s Day, because Valentine’s Day is too gooey, and that day falls on a Saturday. And…” She paused, a long time, and then asked, “Did you not want to, you know, uh…see, I thought it’d be a really good present.”
“I’m trying not to howl at the moon.”
“Pardon?”
“I am trying not…to howl…at the moon,” he said slowly.
“Is that, um…a good thing?”
“You got my baby in you?”
“Yeeeessss,” she drew that out too.
“And you gotta ask that shit?”
“You don’t seem very…elated.”
“Until I have a minute to let the news settle, I might hurt you, I’m so…elated.”
“Really?”
His hands moved and her body jumped, they did it so fast.
But he caught her head and put his face in hers.
“Clara, do you have any fuckin’ clue what it feels like to be a man who got it so damned wrong the first time around, he had to watch his kids pay for that, knowin’ he’s got something totally fuckin’ right, and he gets to give a kid that?”
“I didn’t, but I think I’m getting it,” she whispered, her voice strange.
“You gonna cry?”
“You’re being very sweet.”
“Clara, darlin’, you got my baby in you. That’s no reason to cry.”
“Happy tears.”
Fuck.
Happy.
She was happy they were going to have a baby.
“Do you know what it’s like to have it wrong from the start and be given the gift of being able to give a child something so completely right?” she asked.
“You didn’t have it wrong.”
“It was still wrong. And now it’s very right.”
Fuck.
“I love you, Buck,” she said.
“I know you do, baby, and I love you too.”
“Are you happy?”
“I’m elated.”
She let out a little hiccupping giggle.
And ended it crying.
He kissed her, rolling them to their sides.
And then he kept kissing her.
He ended it reaching up to touch his lips to her nose and then tucking her tight to his front.
He thought she was going to sleep.
She wasn’t going to sleep.
He knew that when she said, “You know, we had to go through it all to get here and get what we have…right here.”
“I know.”
And he did know.
But he didn’t have to like it.
“So, if you had the power to erase it, I wouldn’t know, after all that, how amazingly lucky I was to be right here.”
Amazingly lucky.
Buck closed his eyes.
And said, “I know.”
“I can’t wait to tell the kids.”
“Yeah.”
“And Locke. I think he’ll be happy.”
“He’ll be happy. I’m happy and you’re happy, baby. So yeah, he’ll be really fuckin’ happy.”
“I love to make you happy, Buck.”
“It’s good you’re doin’ something you love.”
She giggled and then she snuggled.
He gathered her closer.
“’Night, West,” she murmured, all sleepy. “Merry early Christmas.”
“’Night, Toots,” he whispered. “Thank you for the best fuckin’ present ever.”
She pressed even closer.
“My pleasure.”
He grinned into the dark.
Clara fell asleep.
Buck remained awake.
After a while, he tipped his head back and looked out the windows at the moon.
He didn’t howl.
“You’d like her, Ma,” he said quietly.
The moon had no reply.
He’d get the reply seven months later, when they had her, and they had a name all picked out for her. But sweaty and red-faced, hair sticking to her skin, Clara’s gorgeous blue eyes came to him with their little girl curled all mucky on her chest, and she said,
“I think she’s Lenora.”
That wasn’t the name they’d picked.
So Buck knew.
His mom approved.
But in that moment, to his wife.
He agreed.
Two weeks after that, he carried Lenora and the bag he had into their bedroom.
Clara was curled up in the chair in the corner, reading.
“Did you guys have fun running your errand?” she asked.
“Mm,” he hummed his answer.
She didn’t hesitate to put her book aside when he handed her their girl.
Buck then went to the bed, dumped what was in the bag on it, and got on with sorting it.
Once he took the thing out of the cardboard envelope and put it in the other, he turned to the dresser.
Making adjustments, he shifted a bit to the side the pic Tatie took with her selfie stick of the four of them wrapped around each other in front of the tree on Christmas morning that was front and center.
And he shifted back the frame that had a pic of the four of them at the foot of Vail Mountain, all in winter gear, the kids with their boards planted in the snow, Clara looking cute with a hat with a big fluffy ball at the top of it pulled down to her ears.
And he shifted the frame that was angled with the first one he’d moved, holding that center space.
A frame that had the pic of Clara standing next to him out in the area beyond the front of the deck. She was wearing a white dress with thin straps, lace with the tiny dots and big flowers stitched in overlying it, sleeves of that lace that went down to her elbows. It had a semi-wide skirt that had a slit up the front to her mid-thigh and a thin white belt tied around her waist.
A gown she’d worn with bright pink, sexy sandals.
She had her arms around his middle, her cheek to his white shirt, her foot kicked back, exposing her shoes and a shapely calf.
A massive smile was on her face.
Same as him.
That was because, beside them, Tatiana, wearing her bridesmaid dress, had just jumped up on Gear’s back.
And Gear had caught her.
Both his kids were full-on, eyes closed, mouths-open laughing.
He had good-looking kids.
He set the new frame down. Eight by ten. Pride of place in the middle.
The couch in the living room.
Buck had Lenora in an arm.
He also had Clara in his lap.
Both their kids were on either side, leaning in, arms around them and each other.
Chap had snapped that shot.
Once Buck had positioned it where he wanted it, he looked to his wife and baby girl.
“Soon, we’re going to have to get another dresser,” she remarked.
“I got no problem with that,” he replied.
Then he took them in, and while he did, he sent out word, seeing as it seemed God had been paying a fair amount of attention for about the last year.
So, since he already had a gorgeous girl with dark hair, he hoped Lenora coming out bald as the cue ball her mother was unable to successfully hit in order to win a game of pool meant his new baby girl would have her mother’s honey.
“You good?” he asked.
“Always,” she answered.
Buck went to her.
Bent deep.
Kissed her nose.
Bent deeper.
Kissed a tiny baby nose.
Then he walked out of the room.
The End
The Aces High MC will return…
in the Wild West MC Series