Dragon's Lair (Wind Dragons MC #1)(51)

In the morning before I wake up—he’s gone.

That day itself, I move back into the clubhouse. No way am I staying alone in that house for half a year. I’d drive myself crazy in no time. Clover helps to make time go quicker than I thought. I miss Dex every day, but Clover is my shining light.

She gets me through the darkness.

“She’s looking more like you every day,” Tracker muses, staring down at Clover.

I look down at her angelic face. “Do you think so?”

He peers down at her again and bobs his head. “Yeah, she’s your mini me.”

We’re silent for a few seconds.

“How are you holding up?” he asks in a low tone.

I exhale heavily and lean back on the couch. “I’m okay because I have to be, you know?”

“You’re f*ckin’—” He looks down at Clover and then starts over. “You’re strong, you know that? Who would have thought that you—walking into the clubhouse with no clue, wearing cupcake pajamas and staring at us all wide-eyed like you had no idea what to do with us…”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You turned out to be the best thing to happen to Dex, and you’re more than old lady material. You don’t just take care of Dex…”

“Hey love the man love the club, right?” I add when Tracker trails off. I yawn, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth.

Tracker grins. “Let Allie and me watch Clover. You get some sleep.”

“Okay, if you two don’t mind,” I say, the exhaustion of being up all night with Clover catching up to me.

“Just ‘cuz Dex isn’t here—we’re gonna look after you,” Tracker says softly, running his hands through his blond hair.

“I know,” I reply. “So are you and Allie together?”

He tilts his head to the side. “I guess we are, yes.”

“Good, you deserve to be happy,” I tell him, meaning every word.

“For the record, we could have been f*ckin’ amazing together,” he says, stretching his arms above his head lazily.

I can’t stop the blush that makes an appearance. “Is that right? I’ve heard about your piercing. You know…”

“No I don’t, why don’t you tell me?” he replies, looking amused.

“Your piercing,” I repeat, pointing down to his crotch.

“Oh this,” he says, unbuttoning his jeans. “Do you want to see?”

I elbow him in the ribs, laughing. “I’m curious but not that curious. Dex would kill you.”

He smiles. “Good to hear you laugh again.”

I watch as he gently takes my daughter from my arms, then kisses the top of my head. “Sleep. Clover will be fine.”

“Thanks Tracker,” I mumble, my eyes already closing.

My last thought is of Dex before I fall asleep.





Chapter Thirty





Dex has been gone for four months when Jim dies from lung cancer.

Everyone is devastated.

I sit by the hospital bed and watch as Cindy cries. The woman who didn’t even cry on that night when Mary died right before her, is bawling her eyes out. Something about seeing such a strong woman shatter makes it hard for me to try and stay strong.

I cry silently, holding Clover close to my chest.

The men stand around Cindy, helping her up and leading her out of the room. She wails, screaming Jim’s name. We all leave the hospital and go back to the clubhouse. The place is unusually quiet, and extremely depressing. The men drink.

And then drink some more.

Jim’s good friend Jack Kane and his son Xander come to help us with the funeral. Apparently Jack was once a member of the club, and I guess officially, still is one.

Since the new President of Wind Dragons is still behind bars, Trace takes over things until Dex gets back. The club gets three new prospects, two I like but the other—not so much. I guess time will tell how it all turns out with each of them.

I walk up to Trace and refill his drink. He gives me a chin lift in thanks. Allie is sitting on Tracker’s lap, whispering in his ear, so I don’t go and intrude. Instead I walk up to Rake, showing him the bottle of scotch. He lifts his glass up for me to pour.

“How are you holding up?” I ask him so only we can hear.

He gulps his drink, replying with a question of his own. “Where’s Clover?”

“She’s asleep,” I tell him, pointing to the baby monitor sticking out of my jean pocket.

He nods his head, then stands up. “I need a woman and some more alcohol.”

“I can provide the scotch, but unfortunately, I’m not a pimp.”

That earns me a small smile. He cups my face and kisses me on the forehead. “Why don’t you and Clover go home for a few days? This place isn’t going to be any fun to be around.”

I feel a little hurt, but I realize he’s right. “That’s probably a good idea.”

I stay at home for a week.

Each day they send someone to check on me. It’s not necessary but kind of nice too.

When I return, the place is a mess and there are women sleeping out in the open.

“Did they throw a party?” I ask Allie when I see her in the kitchen.