Bucking Bear (Pounding Hearts #3) (9 page)

“Yes.” I smile and pointedly look him over before I ask, “I didn’t break you, did I?”

T
aking
Grace back home to her parents is quickly becoming tiresome. I don’t like taking her home. I don’t like that she is sleeping in a bed that isn’t mine. I know logically that she is safe and secure sleeping at her parents’ house with Hope. But I want them both living with me. Fuck the whole living in different places.

I growl as we get into the SUV. I love being with her but these nights when she leaves make it hard.

“You okay?” she asks, looking at me as I shut the door a bit harder than I meant to.

“Yeah, I just don’t like this whole taking you home right now. I would much rather have you chained to my bed.”

Laughing, she says, “Yeah, I could see that as being a very good thing. But not being able to feed Hope or go to work would probably be a bad thing.”

I nod my head. “Yeah, but she could live here too. I would give you enough chain to get around the house. Might even splurge for a collar for you.”

We are driving in the dark of night but I can see her quickly shoot a look at me. “You are nuts.”

“Yeah, but it would be a good way to keep you as mine alone.”

“I already said I was,” she says and I can feel the happiness emanating off of her.

I reach over and grab her hand tightly in mine.

“So tell me about this date Sunday with the runt.”

“It’s not a date! For the millionth time, Max, I promise. And why do you always call him runt?”

“He’s a little foul-mouthed bitch. A real man doesn’t go around grabbing people like he did to you.”

“I know… He is just really stressed and he… I cannot anger him. His lawyers could take Hope from me. He has money…”

“Not going to happen. Won’t happen. You’re the mama, it is really, really hard for a woman to lose full custody.”

I can feel the tension in the way her hand tightens its grip. “He’s got really good lawyers, Max. He isn’t afraid to use every single thing against me. My job doesn’t pay well, we still live with my parents…”

“That’s fucking bullshit, I promise you. I don’t give a fuck who his lawyers are. Mine will destroy anything his could come up with. I promise if he ever tries anything like that I will break him.”

We are quiet for a while, each in our own thoughts.

“Max, you know I’m not with you because of your money, right?”

“Huh?”

“I just wanted you to know that. You say things like you just did and I feel like I could be a burden to you. I don’t want to be that.”

Slowing down as we reach her neighborhood, I say, “I know that, Grace. If we ever did split, I would still help you with Carson. He will never get custody of Hope; I promise you that. I see what kind of parent you are, and I have seen what he does with Hope. He will never have her at his mercy.”

“I don’t know why you came into my life, Max, but…” Shaking her head, she scoots as close to me as she can with the console between us and leans up, kissing my cheek.

“Besides Grace, you’re mine.”

“Don’t forget, big Bear, you’re mine too.”

I like the feeling of that. She’s right.

“I still don’t like the idea of you going on a date with that dickless little shit.”

She giggles. “It’s not a date! He just wants to talk about Hope.”

“Yes, it is Grace, mark my words. Someone is coming near what he considers his territory. He is going to go for you.”

“He isn’t! That side of us is soooo over with. We aren’t like that and never will be again.”

Shaking my head, I hear her words but I’m a guy, I know how we work. He smells another animal near his territory and he doesn’t like the idea of someone like me taking over.

Fuck him though, I am the Bear in these fucking woods. He is the fucking lame deer about to be finished the fuck off.

Pulling up in front of her parents’ house, I lean over, grabbing her by the back of the head. Tilting her head to the side, I go straight for her neck. I kiss her there, slowly sliding my lips back and forth across the delicate skin.

She moans quietly for me. She is so responsive to my touch. I love playing with her body the way I do. I can’t imagine ever finding another woman who I would ever want to touch as much as I want to touch her.

Whispering quietly, I say, “I could leave a nice little mark here. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Mine and mine alone.”

She tries to twist her head but I don’t let her. “Please don’t, Max. I would so love to feel it, but it would cause way too many problems with Mom and Dad and Hope and work… Please...”

She would let me though; I can feel it in her words. She is absolute putty in my hands, so submissive to my wants. God, it is a heady rush, feeling how she desires me the same way I desire her.

I pull away. “Okay. But if that jackass even touches you I will have to snap his fucking neck.”

She nods her head. “I don’t like it when he does. It makes my skin crawl.”

Kissing her lips, I get out of the car to walk her to the door. “So, I will be out of town late Saturday night until late Sunday night. I have this thing that just came up.”

She turns to me quickly. “What thing?”

“Well… Colt, he’s my agent… Got a call from this foundation called Give-A-Dream. Seems there’s this girl who isn’t doing well, and she wants to meet me.” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

I don’t know why it makes me feel self-conscious, it’s strange to feel that way. Normally I don’t let things make me feel uncomfortable but this does. It’s not about me, it’s someone else wanting to meet me as a dying wish. Yeah, that makes me feel weird. Why me?

“Max…” Grace says, suddenly stopping our walk up to her door.

“Yeah? I know it’s odd, I mean it makes me feel odd. But who in the world am I to say no?”

“No, Max, I think it is a very good thing. Good but so sad,” she says as she reaches up to hug me tightly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are such a huge teddy bear. So full of warm, good stuffing.”

Before I can say anything back to her she presses her lips hard to my own, kissing me with a passion that is reserved for our nights alone.

“No, I’m not. The name isn’t supposed to be a good thing,” I say as we finish.

Nodding her head, “Yeah. Call me both days, okay? Promise?”

She heads into her house and I get back into the SUV. I wonder what it would take to get her and Hope to live with me?

I know we have been together for such a short time, but we are right for each other.

Her parents would probably not be so sure of it, but I think they like me pretty well. It sure would make things easier for her and Hope. No more worries about providing for Hope, I could easily do that. Shit, if it meant being able to sleep in bed with Grace, her parents could even move in. I know they are really attached to their granddaughter. Hell, I am attached to Hope. I could see her maybe not liking moving away from them. We could figure something out though.

Hmm, Grace and Hope living with me. I like that idea.

I
s Max right
? Does Carson think it’s a date Sunday? I worry about it all day long and through my shift at work. It doesn’t make sense, my mind doesn’t want it to make sense, but I have this sinking feeling that he’s right. It’s just a little too much of a coincidence that he wants to have dinner with me now that Max is in the picture.

But is that simply vanity on Max’s part? I don’t know.

Since Carson walked away after Hope was born, he hasn’t shown a hint of being romantically interested in me anymore. Hell, I kind of felt like a used up tissue after giving birth to her. He didn’t want anything to do with me, and it didn’t take long for the rumors to start pouring in that he was already hooking up with other girls.

Why would he be interested in me now? After all of these years?

Max texts me from the airport, and I take my break to talk to him on the phone before he boards.

I wish I could go with him, I wish we didn’t always have to be so far apart. We haven’t known each other very long but it feels like it’s been all or nothing from the start. Max doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’s satisfied with half measures. Fuck, we’re moving so fast he’ll probably ask me to move in with him before the end of the month.

And how would that even work?

When I’m with him it feels so right, everything feels so perfect, I get caught up in it. All the planets are aligned in the universe.

It’s when we’re apart that I feel the crushing weight of self-doubt. What the hell am I doing? Am I being selfish by giving myself to him? Am I being a bad mother by putting my wants first?

Does he only like me because I look like Britney Spears?

After all the awesome of Friday, by the time my head hits the pillow, Saturday feels like a bust.

Sunday doesn’t start off much better. I wake up to Hope poking me, complaining about wanting pancakes and wanting Bear. She’s not happy when I tell her he’s out of town and tonight I’m going out with her father. She takes it just like Max did, but instead of being able to discuss it like a reasonable adult, she throws an epic tantrum more worthy of a two-year-old.

I spend most of the day trying to console her and wiping away her tears.

“Why are you going out with Carson? Don’t you like Bear anymore?” she asks.

And I have to tell her, “He’s your father, please don’t call him Carson. And I’m not dating him, we’ve just got grown up stuff to discuss.”

“Why can’t you discuss it here?” she asks right before wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“I don’t know, honey.”

Out of the mouth of babes, I swear.

By the time Carson shows up I rather just call the whole thing off. Especially when he looks me up and down and does that little sniff, like he’s not impressed with what I’m wearing. Donasto’s is more of an upscale Italian dining place, but I just threw a simple black slip dress on and twisted my hair up in a messy bun. My way of making it clear that despite what everyone else thinks, to me this is not a date and I’m only putting in minimal effort.

He doesn’t even try to hug Hope or anything before we walk out the door which just rubs me wrong. But what bothers me more is that she didn’t try to hug him. Usually she’s all over Max before he even makes it through the door.

The car ride to the restaurant is long and miserable. Carson drives an Audi with a stick shift. When he reaches over to throw the car into gear his hand brushes against my knee. The first time I give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it was just an accident. But when it happens a second and then a third time, I scoot myself as far away as possible. Squeezing myself into the corner next to my door.

It’s a struggle to remain in my seat as he pulls up in front of the restaurant. A valet opens the door for me and I practically jump out of the car, mowing the poor guy down. Pausing to smooth down my skirt, Carson comes up behind me and places his hand against the small of my back, guiding me forward.

Straightening, I try to step to the side to escape his touch but he decides to wrap his arm around my hips, pulling me closer.

“Carson,” I say calmly through my clenched teeth.

Looking down at me he arches a golden eyebrow.

“Please remove your arm,” I say quietly.

His arm drops away reluctantly and his lips pull into a frown.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d— “I start to say but the hostess cuts me off.

“Good evening, Mr. Hilton. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” the brunette smiles at him in greeting from behind the podium. She’s pretty and kind of reminds me of Deedee, young and fresh, probably just out of high school.

“Thank you, Lindsey,” Carson says and flashes her his dazzling smile.

Lindsey blushes and fumbles with our menus, eyes dropping shyly down to the floor. I feel a bit of… pity? That she’s falling victim to the old Carson charm. But then again, I know better by now.

“If you’ll follow me…” she stammers.

Carson’s arm snakes around my back again as we follow after her, hand resting on my hip like we’re a couple or something.

Lips pressing together, I decide to save what I wanted to say until we reach our table in the hopes of avoiding a scene. The restaurant is packed to near full capacity tonight and buzzing with noise and activity which just feels strange to me for a Sunday night.

Carson’s arm remains firmly wrapped around me until we reach the table, only dropping when he pulls out my chair for me. I shoot him a glare before sitting down. He scoots my chair in and then his knuckles are brushing against my shoulders.

I jerk away and open my mouth to reprimand him but he’s already coming around the table, ordering our wine.

When Lindsey finally nods her head and wanders away, after explaining all of their many specials and their wine menu, I can bite my tongue no longer.

My voice coming out a low, angry hiss, I ask, “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” Carson asks innocently, eyes flicking up from his menu for only a second to regard me.

He knows exactly what I’m talking about but he’s playing dumb.

Picking up my glass of water, I take a quick sip to calm myself. Then I tell him, “I’d appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself.”

He doesn’t even look up; all he does is smirk.

If I didn’t think he’d use it against me in court, I’d wipe that smirk off of his face with my glass of water.

“I’m serious,” I say, snapping my own menu open. “I’m here to talk about Hope, nothing else.”

Glancing up, our eyes meet and lock in silent battle over our menus. In the depths of his baby blues I see a flash of anger.

The wine arrives with our waiter and Carson’s dazzling smile returns.

“Are you ready to order, sir?” Our waiter asks politely.

Carson nods and shuts his menu, handing it up. “I’ll have the linguine with clam and she’ll have the chicken marsala.”

My eyes widen in disbelief. Did he just have the gall to order for me? The waiter turns to me expectantly, waiting for me to hand my menu up.

“I don’t want chicken marsala.” I smile tightly at the waiter and he glances towards Carson, looking supremely uncomfortable. I’d feel bad but honestly it was Carson who put him in this spot.

Snapping my menu shut, I hand it up. “I want the lasagna.” The waiter nods before scurrying off.

“Was that necessary?” Carson hisses at me and picks up his glass of wine, throwing it back like it’s a shot.

I shrug. “You shouldn’t have presumed to know what I want.”

“A mistake I can’t seem to stop making,” he grits out, setting his now empty glass down on the table with a loud clink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He regards me coolly for a long moment before finally answering. “No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to please you.”

“What?!” I blurt out a little too loudly, drawing a few curious looks. “Are you serious?” I ask leaning closer to the table, dropping my voice to almost a whisper.

“Yes, I’m serious, Grace,” he answers and waves a waiter over, asking for a wine refill.

I pick my own glass up now and take a sip from it. The wine is a deep red, very dry and bitter. It suits my mood perfectly right now.

Once the waiter is out of earshot, I ask, just laying it all out there, “How have you tried to please me? The problem has always been that you don’t try at all.”

“I’m trying,” he insists angrily.

“How?”

“I’m stepping up for our daughter.”

“After four years of never being there!” And I’d hardly call what he’s doing now stepping up.

“Would you please lower your voice,” he hisses between his teeth, forcing a smile as the waiter returns with his wine.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Carson takes a sip of his wine. “You never wanted me around.”

“That’s not true,” I immediately deny.

“It is,” he sighs and leans back in his chair.

I really feel like a trick or something is being played on me right now. I glance around the restaurant half expecting someone to jump out with a camera, telling me I just got punked. I can’t even count how many nights I was up crying after Hope was born because I felt so alone and overwhelmed.

“I wanted you around. I needed you around, but you never answered my texts or phone calls.”

Carson shakes his head. “You didn’t want me around.”

“How can you say that?”

“That first night, after she was born, when I tried to change her diaper and I put it back on wrong you bit my head off.”

“I was a hormonal mess! I’d just given birth.”

Carson nods his head slowly. “And the next day I couldn’t hold her correctly so you didn’t want me to hold her at all.”

“You weren’t supporting her neck,” I mutter and take another sip of my bitter wine.

“You made me feel like a fool,” he grumbles.

Yeah, I’m not perfect and I probably had my moments when I wasn’t nice to him after she was born, but I didn’t drive him away. There were days where I felt like a fool for begging him to be there. I was desperate for his help, I was desperate for my daughter to know her father.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like a fool but that doesn’t give you the excuse or the right to leave me to do it all on my own.”

“I know,” he says sincerely, and my eyes swing to his face in surprise.

“You know?”

He nods and sets his glass down on the table. “I told you I have a lot to apologize for, Grace. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m very sorry.”

“You are?” I repeat, dumbfounded.

Reaching across the table, he takes my hand in his. My eyes drop, staring stupidly at it before I try to pull it back.

His grip tightens, trapping me. “I wasn’t there for you, and I wasn’t there for Hope. I’ve failed us all.”

On one hand, his words are like music to my ears, I don’t know how long I’ve hoped and dreamed for him to come around. On the other hand, he’s touching me and it’s making my skin crawl.

“I can’t change the past, but if you let me, I’d like to be a bigger part of her future.”

I stare hard into his baby blue eyes and I just can’t tell if he’s being honest or not. I’m afraid I’ve wanted this for so long that I’m seeing simply what I want to see. But shouldn’t I at least give him the benefit of the doubt?

Taking a deep breath, I yank hard on my hand, finally freeing it from his grasp before I tell him, “I would like that.”

Carson flashes that dazzling smile at me but thankfully I’m still immune to its effect. “Can we start over?”

My gut instinct is telling me not to agree right away. “Meaning what?”

Carson’s smile fades away and he finishes off his wine before saying. “I’d like to give us another shot.”

“What?!” I almost choke on my own wine, and cough and sputter into my napkin.

He waits until I have myself under control before clarifying. “I’d like to see if we can make this work, you and I, and Hope.”

“Why?” I ask suspiciously. I know Max warned me that this was Carson’s true intention but still I don’t understand it.

Carson reaches across the table and holds out his hand to me as if he expects me to willingly place my hand in his. “So we can be a family.”

After all this time, after all those tears, it’s not going to happen. I drop my hands to my lap. “I’m already seeing somebody.”

His lip curls with disgust. “That MMA thug?”

“He’s not a thug,” I say defensively. Max is
such
a better man than him.

“How long have you been seeing him?” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

I guess today makes it exactly a week… Fuck.

“For a few days,” I say vaguely, trying really hard not to squirm. It sounds ridiculous saying it out loud.

Carson’s head tips back as he laughs. “You know they go through girls like porn stars go through condoms?”

I do know that, I’ve heard the stories from the ring girls at the club, and I’ve heard dirtier stories straight from Mandy’s mouth.

But Max isn’t like that… Max and I are serious… it’s just saying it out loud to someone else makes it sound absurd.

Carson relaxes in his chair as if he’s no longer threatened. Thankfully, our dinner arrives and I’m saved from having to respond.

We manage to get through the entire meal civilly with me redirecting the conversation towards Hope, though I can tell it’s frustrating him when he tries to grab my hand but I dodge all of his attempts. After paying the bill, his hand returns to the small of my back as he escorts me to the car.

By the time we pull up in front of my house, I feel like I just lived through an episode of the
Twilight Zone
.

“I had a wonderful night,” he says, leaning towards me, and being the rude bitch that I am, I push open my door and jump out.

“See you next week!” I blurt out, slam his door and run up the front steps of my house.

He guns his engine and I wave my hand over my shoulder as I unlock my front door. Jumping inside, I slam the door behind me and lean against it, listening to him squeal out before I can relax.

Once I’m sure he’s gone, I release the breath I was holding and pull out my phone. I have several missed texts from Max but I don’t read them yet. First I send him a message.