Page 25 of Ride or Die

A thick swallow works its way down my throat and I blink hard, shaking my head.Chrissake, Dawson, get your shit together. Clearing my throat, I scrub a hand over my chin, averting my eyes. “Hey.”

Clara’s blue gaze flits from me to Tom and Billie, smiling between the two of them.

“Are you guys going to… behave… for… Cole?” Her voice wavers a touch, uncertainty evident in her tone. And it’s only then that I realize she’s nervous as hell, and shit, she has every right to be.

She doesn’t even know me, and yet I’m offering to stay here with her kids. Now that I think about it, that’s probably a little sketchy. What the fuck am I doing?

“Yes, Mommy,” Billie chirps, snapping my attention back to the now.

“Cole has a PS5,” Tom says, jumping up from the couch and closing in on his mama. “He… He said I can play it whenever I want.” He’s nervous, hands twisting together. “If it’s okay with you,” he adds, hopefully.

Clara smiles, reaching a hand out and ruffling his hair. “For a little bit, okay.”

Tom fist pumps the air, turning and grinning at me before scurrying back to join his sister.

“Are you…sureabout this?” Clara asks me, her voice dropping to a whisper.

I nod, tucking my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. You need to work,” I begin, shrugging a casual shoulder, “and I’ve got a rusted old’88 F250 sittin’ in the barn I’ve been neglecting.”

Clara’s eyebrows bunch together. “I have no idea what that means, but… okay.”

“It’s a truck,” I explain, not sure why, she don’t need to know.

She nods but I can tell she doesn’t really care. “Okay. Well, if you need anything or there’s any problems”—she points in the direction of Tom and Billie—“don’t call the club because Bruce won’t relay the message to me.” She huffs, rolling her eyes, understandably still upset about last night. “Send me a text, and I’ll make sure to check the phone as much as I can.”

“Sure.” I follow her as she places her things into her purse.

“Billie’s had a shower. She just needs to brush her teeth before bed.” Clara loops the long string of her purse over her head. “Her bedtime is around eight. Tom will take himself to bed when he feels like it, but no later than ten.”

“Okay.” I nod, trailing her to the door, trying and failing not to look at the generous swell of her ass in those leggings.

Clara pauses, glancing from me to the kids and back again, lips twisted in contemplation like she’s trying to think of some other thing to tell me.

“Just go,” I urge her with a wry smirk. “We’ll be fine.”

She looks at the kids one last time. “Bye guys.”

They both turn and wave.

“Be good for Cole, okay?”

“We will,” they chorus, turning back to the TV.

Hesitating once more, Clara eyes me cautiously, her eyebrows tugging together. “How old are you?”

I balk, unsure where that came from. “Uh, I’ll be twenty-seven in a couple months. Why?”

Lips pursed, she looks me up and down like she’s not completely satisfied by my answer. Can’t say I blame her. I can barely look after my damn self, most of the time.

“I’m trusting you with my whole world.”

I hold three fingers in the air. “And I promise I will guard ’em with my life.”

She quirks a brow. “Why do I find it very hard to believe you were ever a boy scout?”

“Because I wasn’t,” I admit easily, my grin knowing. “But I’ve got a bunch of guns locked away in the safe, and a pistol under the seat in my truck. Ain’t nobody safer than they are when they’re here. That’s a goddamn matter of fact.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open.