Trusting Thorn (Miami Saints MC #5)

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Oakland

My lips twitch as I listen to the sound of my dryer's buzzer as it attempts to signal that my laundry is dry.

News Flash.

It’s not.

The damn thing has been broken for months.

I shouldn’t find it funny that everything in this place is falling apart, but seriously, what else can I do?

Lord knows a new dryer isn't something I can afford right now.

"MOM!" Morgan yells from the other side of the house, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What?" I shout back.

"YOUR PHONE'S RINGING." I don't know why she has to scream so loud. Our trailer is seven hundred square feet from one end to the other. She could hiccup and I’d hear it from here.

"Well, answer it!"

"OKAY!" she shouts again.

I laugh under my breath as I open the dryer door and pull the contents into the basket at my feet.

"Mom?" I look over my shoulder to Morgan standing in the doorway, shaking my cell phone at me.

"Who is it?" I whisper.

Morgan's shoulders go up. “I don’t know.”

Of course, she answered without asking who was on the other line.

Quickly shoving the dryer door closed with my knee, I reach out, grab the phone, and lift it to my ear as Morgan takes off to go back to whatever it was, she was doing. "Hello?"

"Her dad didn't show up again?"

Harley.

I sigh, peeking around the doorframe to make sure Morgy isn’t listening in. “Nope.”

Over the last few weeks, I've confided in Harley about my past, specifically the stuff my ex put me through, and more recently what he's now putting Morgan through.

"What an asshole."

“Honey, you don’t know the half of it,” I grumble, thinking how much I love her unconditionally for always being supportive. “And get this… When I called him to give him a piece of my mind last night, I could hear music blaring in the background the second he answered the phone. Can you believe that? The jerk stood her up to go out partying." I was so pissed off when I called the rat bastard. Morgan deserves better.

"Wow, he's more of a dickhead than I thought."

"I just hate it for Morgan."

"Well, his loss is our gain, right?" I can't help but smile because my bestie is always looking for silver linings. "You know what? I've got a great idea. Why don't you both throw on a swimsuit and come over to the clubhouse to hang out? The girls and I are catching some sun by the pool while the kids run around like lunatics.”

"I don't know," I bite my lip. That does sound like fun, but I'm not so sure about taking Morgan to the clubhouse.

Harley laughs. "If it makes you feel any better, it's a family event. No club girls." That does make me feel better.

"Are you sure nobody will mind?"

"I promise."

I think about it for another half of a second before deciding what the hell. “You know what? Why not?"

"That ‘a girl!" Harley cheers, making me laugh.

“I’ll shoot you a text when we’re at the gate.”

"Perfect! I'll see you soon."

"See ya' soon," I say before ending the call and yelling around the doorframe, "Morgan! Put your swimsuit on, baby. We're going swimming at my friend’s… clubhouse."

“Yay!”

I laugh, abandoning my laundry.

Time for some fun in the sun.

Thorn

"I'm going to work on my handstand today, Daddy."

I look down at Mila skipping along beside me and smile. The second I reminded her that today was family day at the clubhouse, she was raring to go.

"First, we gotta put your sunscreen on."

She wrinkles her nose. "Awh… but I don't like that shh—" her eyes widen as she catches herself, "stuff."

I lift a brow. “No cursing, kid.”

She sighs, like I’ve told her she can’t have ice cream again. I want to laugh but have been warned by some of the old ladies that will only encourage her. With her track record in the principal’s office, that’s not something I want to do.

Her arms cross over her chest. “Sorry, Daddy.” She’s not sorry, she just doesn’t want to lose her tablet.

"Whose car is that?" she asks pointing to a car two spots down.

Following the line of her arm to the other side of the lot, I see the unfamiliar Carola she’s talking about.

"I'm not sure kiddo. I've never seen it before.” It’s not unheard of for a random hang-around to stop by the clubhouse.

"It has a sticker with my school's name on it,” Mila adds, always the observant one.

I glance back at the car and see the sticker on the back window. "You never miss a thing, kid. You're almost as observant as your uncle Legend." She wrinkles her nose I laugh. "Why the face?"

“Uncle Ledgy said bad guys pee in his truck."

“That’s pretty gross, huh?” I laugh. Legend was a bounty hunter, and his job required him to chase down criminals who jumped bail. For some strange reason, Mila always wanted to know about the “bad guys” when she saw him.

"I don't like Uncle Legend's job.” She frowns. “He's always gone."

Something ugly coils in my belly when I hear the sadness in my baby girl’s voice. I’ve thought about telling her the truth a couple of times when she’s asked about her uncle, but I don’t think telling my seven-year-old that her uncle is in jail for nearly beating a man to death is the best idea. She’s too young to understand he did it protecting an innocent. Blowing out a breath, I tell her what I know to be true. “Uncle Legend would be here every day if he could.”

“I know,” she sighs unhappily as I open the clubhouse doors.

Mila steps inside and I follow her in,

“Can I ride my bike today?” I glance down at her and lift a brow.

“You’re good, kid.”

She smiles victoriously.

Leave it to my kid to bring up missing her uncle then turn around and ask about riding her dirt bike. She knows how much I hate dragging that thing out on Sundays.

“Maybe.”

“That means no,” she grumbles.

She’s probably right, but I ignore her pouting and usher her through the clubhouse and out the back door.

The second we step outside we’re hit with the delicious smell of Wrath’s famous barbecue slow cooking on the smoker and the sound of AC/DC streaming from the radio.

My lips twitch when I think about how much has changed in the last few years.

It’s not exactly booze and babes around here anymore, but damn if this place doesn’t still feel like home.

“Mila, help!”

“There’s your, buddy,” I say, dropping my hand onto Mila’s shoulder when Nash shouts her name as he tries to shake off his twin brothers.

“Two babies is too many,” Mila grumbles, shaking her head.

The corner of my lip turns up. She ain’t wrong about that. One toddler is a handful, two are chaos. That especially applies to Nicki and Nolan. Sparrow’s boys have been like a wrecking crew since they started walking.

"Morgan!" Mila shouts, shaking off my hand.

Morgan?

Before I can get a good look at who she’s hollering at, she takes off across the lawn. There, with her feet kicking in the water, is a little girl with a riot of blonde curls that for some reason looks oddly familiar.

Looking behind her to see who she’s here with, I freeze.

Sprawled out on a lawn chair, is none other than the sexy as fuck woman who’s been running through my mind for weeks.

Oakland.

Christ Almighty.

My mouth goes dry as I scan her from the tips of her painted red toes, up her golden tan legs and higher, my eyes eating up the sight of her barely covered body wearing nothing but a red string bikini that should be illegal in all fifty states.

Fuuuuck. Me.

Reaching down, I adjust myself.

There’s no question about it. Oakland Hardy is a goddamn knockout.

"Hey, Thorn." Harley laughs.

When I turn my head and our eyes connect, she smirks.

Yeah, yeah. You caught me perving on your girl. Who could blame me?

"Where's your old man?"

Unable to keep my eyes off her, I glance back to Oakland to get another good look.

It’s crazy the pull she has on me.

I met the woman once, a few weeks ago, but fuck me, the memory I’ve been beating off to didn’t do her any justice.

"He's out in the shop with the rest of the guys," Harley answers.

I turn back to her and frown which tips her off that I have no clue what the hell I just asked her. Oakland is having that kind of effect on me.

Fuck.

Harley giggles. "I said, Wrath is out in the shop," she repeats, her tone dripping with amusement.

"Right— Wrath." I shake my head, remembering that he mentioned earlier in the week he needed to tune up his bike.

Turning back to the woman who’s grinning at my expense, I tip my head. "Oakland."

"Hi, Thorn,” she replies softly.

My name rolling off her lips goes straight to my dick.

"Daddy, look! It's my friend Morgan from school." Like being doused with a buck of cold water, my dick instantly deflates.

I turn and look from Mila to the little girl who’s a miniature version of her mother. Same tiny stature, and the same platinum blonde corkscrew curls.

There's no denying she belongs to Oakland.

“Hi, darlin'." I wave.

The tiny sprite smiles, showing off her missing front teeth. "Hi," she responds bashfully.

And fuck me, isn’t she just as adorable as her momma.

"That's my daddy. Everyone calls him Thorn, but I just call him Daddy,” I hear Mila explain as I make my way over to Oakland.

"Go find your old man, Harley," I demand, not taking my eyes off her friend.

"But—" My eyes cut to Harley and her mouth snaps closed. "Fine," she says before mumbling under her breath, “Good luck, girl."

"Uhm…, thanks?" Oakland looks from her friend, then back to me, her eyes wide like a deer that’s just gotten caught in headlights.

That's right baby. You're in trouble now.

"I gave you my number." I raise a brow, wondering why she never used it.

Her head cocks to the side. "I— " she starts, clears her throat, then finishes looking adorably confused. "What?"

"I gave you… my number." And she hasn't called. I thought about it for a few days, realizing that had been my first fuck up where Oakland was concerned.

I should have known better. The woman proved the night I met her how incredibly shy she was. She was never going to reach out and make the first move. So yeah, that was my fuck up. But I was going to rectify that today and get her number.

Her brows furrow, her face revealing her confusion, so I add, "You didn't call me."

"Ohhh," her lips round. "I didn't think," she shakes her head, the mass of blonde curls piled up on top of her head shaking with the movement at the same time an adorable shade of pink takes over her cheeks.

Oakland glances over at the girls then turns back to me, asking in a low voice, "You wanted me to call?"

"Babe. I don't make a habit of giving out my number and I gave you my number." I wanted to see her again, still do. Which is something I thought I'd made clear by putting my number in her phone before I had Easy drive her home.

"Oh." Her teeth sink into the swell of her pouty lip.

"Yeah. Oh," I growl, reaching forward and pulling the abused flesh free.

Oakland sits up taller, removing her sunglasses, her innocent eyes locking onto mine. "I just thought… I mean, I assumed." She waves her hand out toward the clubhouse like that should be explanation enough.

I tilt my head to the side like I don’t understand. "You assumed?”

I want her to finish that sentence even though I know what she thought. And truthfully, I can't fault her considering what she witnessed the night of the party. It’s not every day civilians get to see people fucking out in the open.

So, yeah. I get what she thought. She thought I was only interested in trying to fuck her before I tossed her aside, and a few weeks ago, she'd have been right.

Her shoulders drop as she looks at me apologetically. "I'm sorry."

I should have known this woman would be a sweet one.

"You can make it up to me,” I smirk.

The glow that takes over Oakland's already sun-kissed cheeks deepens and damn if I don’t fucking like it.

“Yo, Thorn! You coming or not?” And just like that the spell is broken.

Turning to where Knox is standing in the doorway of the shop, I hold up a finger and then look back to Oak.

"Keep an eye on my girl, yeah?" Her steely blue eyes move to Mila and her face goes soft.

"Of course." There’s something about that sweet smile of hers aimed at my little girl that’s got me feeling a certain way.

“Good girl,” I rumble, rubbing at the flutter in my chest as I climb to my feet and head to the shop.

As I’m about to step into the shop, I turn around, and there, crouched down in front of Mila, is Oakland with a bottle of sunscreen and both girls standing in front of her.

Damn.

My baby just sealed her fate.