I fought back tears. “See you in a few days, sweetie pie.”

“Goo gah!”

I grinned at him, kissed his mouth again, then his cheek, his head, and having to get to work but preferring to endure torture, I pulled away.

I looked to Tory. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you got time with him.”

I tried not to pay a lot of attention to her but right then I did.

She looked strange. Not haughty (which wasn’t often, but it happened). Not happy (which was often). Not indifferent (also often).

Troubled.

I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know. But if I had to guess, she might be twenty-one and slim and beautiful with an up-and-coming attorney in one of the most established, wealthiest firms in Denver as her fiancé, but what was happening with Aaron and me couldn’t escape her.

I was hardly older than her and I’d been replaced. Then shoved to the ground. Then kicked when I was down. And last, kept from my son when he was sick.

If she didn’t hold Aaron (and she wouldn’t, she’d be me in a few years), my guess was it was beginning to dawn on her she could face the same.

It was unkind, but that wasn’t my problem.

My problem was I had to leave my son, go to work, and after work, go to Ride.

“Thanks again and take care of yourself,” I mumbled, closing the door on my son, giving him a finger wave and a big smile through the window while he stared up at me, looking like he did when he was about ready to start crying.

“Yeah, you too,” Tory replied as I turned quickly and rushed back to the store.

* * *

Four and a half hours after that, I turned into Ride.

I again didn’t park in the parking spaces by the store. I also didn’t park at one of the big bays of the garage.

I parked outside the Compound in the open space by the line of bikes.

I grabbed my purse, threw out my navy Converse-shod foot, pulled my khaki-clad bottom out of the seat, and slammed the door. I settled my purse on my shoulder and marched to the double doors of the Compound.

I threw one open, entered and blinked quickly against the sudden dark, still walking in, my eyes going to the bar.

It came into focus and I saw it was my lucky day.

Among four other men, Joker was sitting there.

“Yo, babe,” one of them called.

“Yo,” I replied haughtily, my eyes never leaving Joker. Then I didn’t waste a second. “Joker, I’m sorry to bother you again, but can I have a word?”

“Travis okay?” Joker asked instantly.

It was sweet he asked and it was sweet it was instant.

But I wasn’t in a sweet mood.