Axel was so good with the kids, a natural. He’d be a great father someday. I thought of my own father, who really shouldn’t have had a child. He wasn’t father material, and he didn’t have a clue what to do with me. I was raised in the motorcycle shop, not exactly a place most parents would want to raise a child, especially a girl. I could cuss with the best of them by the time I was ten. My dad thought it was funny, and so did his buddies. My teachers, not so much.

Axel snapped the book shut. “Okay, kids, time for bed.” He stood and stretched while the younger kids whined about it being bedtime.

“Do we have to?” Anna pleaded with me.

“Yes, you do. Get upstairs and get ready. I’ll be up to tuck you in.”

Axel told them goodbye, and like a herd of stampeding horses, they raced up the stairs.

I followed him out the door, even though that wasn’t a good idea.

“Thank you for the flowers, but please don’t buy me any more gifts.” We stood on the porch in the darkness. The night was clear and chilly, but I’d grabbed a coat on my way outside.

“You’re welcome, but don’t expect me to stop until I get what I want.”

“You’re not getting what you want. Can’t I make that any clearer?”

His smirk was enough of an answer. He was overconfident, which would normally irritate me, but not tonight. I’d had a few glasses of wine and was feeling mellow and content.

He moved closer to me. Our gazes locked together. Looking deep into his green eyes was hypnotic, making me forget my vow to steer clear of him. I took one step closer. He took another. The gap closed between us. We were only a few feet apart. His gaze flicked down to my lips, and I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking.

I wanted him to kiss me, even though I didn’t. At least, I didn’t think I did. I was so confused. Jock was warming up to his teammate, starting to see him as the good, honest person I saw. So what was stopping me from enjoying his company?

Sheer stubbornness and refusal to admit I was wrong were certainly part of it. I had my pride. I also had my fears, and they were bigger than I cared to admit. I prided myself on being strong and invincible. If life knocked me down, I leaped to my feet and fought adversity. Growing up with a father who repaired Harleys for a notorious motorcycle club forced me to be tough. I didn’t take shit from anyone. That same father taught me a thing or two about love, and not in a good way. Love was fleeting, deceptive, and to be avoided at all costs. I was still getting over the one time I’d allowed myself to fall for a man, and I hated the weakness I’d shown. Hadn’t I learned my lesson growing up motherless? The people who loved you the most hurt you the most.