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It doesn’t work. Oaklee rolls her eyes. “Oh no. Ivy gets to work on her tan while sipping beers and margaritas. We get to sweat in a hot kitchen. Not fair. I can’t wait until I’m older.”
“I can,” Ella Mae adds with a smile before shoving her kitchen helpers out the back door.
I quickly eat a burrito—okay, two burritos—and turn to Peaches. “I’ll get the bar set up first if that’s cool?”
She folds her arms, glaring at me like I’ve offended her. “You callin’ me old, Ivy?”
I laugh again. “Did we not just talk about this outside? You’ll never be old. But if you really want to haul the bar slats across the yard, I’ll happily set up the chairs.”
“Smart ass,” she growls, making me laugh. “Anyway, there’s no need to haul anything. You haven’t been here since the last party, and I bought something.” She looks like a kid in a candy store as she drags me out of the back door and points.
I stare for a long moment, unsure what to say at first before I settle on the obvious. “You bought a tiki bar?”
“I did. I know the tiki thing clashes with the whole cowboy biker thing, but it’s adorable, right?” Peaches doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I have a few things to biker and cowboy it up, so I’ll do that while you stock the bar and fill the coolers.”
“Sounds good.” I smile at Peaches one last time before carrying boxes of liquor, beer, and ice to the bar. She’s adding cowboy decals to the bar, sticking cowboy hats on top of the palm thatch roof and adding MC colors with a smile. She’s in a good mood, better than usual, and I feel like I’m missing something. “Peaches?”
“Yeah, honey?” Her focus is on a big-ass Reckless Bastards sticker she’s slowly putting on the front of the bar, but it feels weird, like she’s purposely not looking at me.
“What’s all the fuss about? This seems a bit over the top for a regular MC get-together.”
“Oh yeah,” she replies, smoothing the sticker’s edge. “We’re celebra?—”
“Hey Ma! I’m home!” The voice cuts through the air, familiar as the Texas heat. Haven’t heard it in, what, five years? But I’ve played it in my head more times than I’d like to admit, always wondering if we’d ever cross paths again. As I turn around, my heart does a full-on rodeo. Stone Nilsson. My best-fucking-friend turned ghost.
To say I’m in shock would be the understatement of the century. He’s tall, blond, and grinning like he’s just stepped out for a quick ride, not vanished for half a decade. I’m frozen to the spot, clutching a box of tequila like it’s my lifeline, my jaw practically unhinged.
“Stone?” I manage, my voice barely a whisper as our eyes lock. His shock mirrors mine. Peaches is on the move and rushes across the yard with a big smile.
“My baby’s home,” she hollers out as he meets her at the edge of the driveway and scoops her into a hug, spinning her around.
“Ma. You look as beautiful as ever.”
I can’t peel my eyes away. That blond mane is a dead giveaway, now pulled back with a black bandana, framing a face that’s somehow grown even more handsome. Manly. The scruff, those dancing blue eyes, and that smile that could light up the darkest nights. He’s got big, broad shoulders, and those jeans fit him like they were molded to his thighs, very sculpted thighs, thank you very much.
Not that I notice. I’ve got a man of my own, after all. Stone’s just a chapter from a past life.
But then he strides over, his smile widening as he zeroes in on me. The box of tequila is suddenly out of my hands, and I’m pulled against a chest that feels like it’s carved from marble.
“Damn, Ivy! It’s so fucking good to see you,” he breathes, his embrace wrapping me in a familiarity I didn’t realize I’d missed so much. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Stone,” I say, but my voice is muffled against his chest.
He pulls back, eyes scanning me like he’s memorizing every change. “You grew up nice, Ivy.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. “You too, Stone.” My eyes do a quick sweep, strictly nonchalantly, as I catch myself admiring the solid feel of his arms. “What brings you back? Staying for good?”
He slings an arm around me, as easy as breathing. “Yeah, I’m home for good,” he says. It feels like no time has passed, yet everything’s changed.
Pulling away, I busy myself with unloading bottles, needing the distraction. “You could’ve reached out. Not even a goodbye, Stone.”
“I couldn’t.” He scrubs one hand down his jaw before sighing heavily. “After what happened with that dude, Dad told me to get the hell outta Dodge and never look back. I didn’t want to leave, Ivy. And especially without saying goodbye. Believe me, I would’ve reached out if I could have.”
I’m not sure how I feel right now. It’s been five years. I’ve moved on but seeing him now brings all that hurt and confusion right back to the surface.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Stone. And I’m glad you’re home.” I blow out a long breath and get back to work. We have a party to finish setting up.
“You don’t sound happy,” he notes, a hint of concern in his voice as I tear into another box.
