But she was fast, and showed not one ounce of pain any longer from the injuries she'd suffered, flouncing away as she tossed me a smile over her shoulder.
I was left, standing there, and watching Trance deal with his handful of a child, wishing that I could have that, too.
But it wouldn't be any time soon … if at all.
***
My heart was still in my throat fifteen minutes later as I found my way to the secluded corner of the yard. Hoping for some peace and quiet as I tried to get my heart to let go of the past and move on.
Not many people knew this was here since it was so dark and far away, and that was the exact thing I was looking for right then.
I was startled to see one of the two chairs occupied, but I sat down anyway, tipped my beer to my lips, and drank.
I wasn't really sure how the hell we got to talking, but I found myself telling the stranger, though he was a familiar stranger who I couldn't quite place, all about my fears and worries.
"I can't fucking breathe when she drives away from me," I told this man who I didn't even know. "Every time I watch her walk toward her car, I have a fuckin' panic attack that she's not going to come back."
The man grunted.
"WW was a fucking douche. If he weren't already close to dead, I'd kill him for you."
My brows lifted.
"Who?"
His smile was small, but there.
"WW. The man responsible for hurting your wife."
I was too stunned over the fact that this man knew Walton Whitley to correct him on Naomi being my wife.
"How do you know him?" I asked, stiffening slightly.
The man offered me his hand.
"I'm Dante, the owner of Hail Auto Recovery."
"Dante Hail. The president of the Hail Raisers," I droned. "I know who you are."
"Unofficial president," he corrected. "We're not a true club, just recreational. That's just what we're called."
I shrugged. "Brothers are brothers, man. You don't have to call the club a club, but you are what you are. If it walks like a dog, acts like a dog, looks like a dog, it's a fuckin' dog."
Dante Hail was the man that everyone in the room was talking about tonight. He was a friend of the Benton chapter's president, Silas Mackenzie. And another member's wife, Ruthie had been best friends with Dante's wife. Until his wife had died about six months ago in a car crash, along with their two children.
Dante had, apparently, gone off the deep end. Even now he was obviously not in the best of shape. Hence the reason for him being in the dark part of the clubhouse backyard, sitting with me for over thirty minutes before either one of us had spoken.
"Walton Whitley was one of the longest standing employees that I had, but he was also in an accident about two years ago. Took his wife and kids." His voice broke on the last three words, and I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.
Dante, this big bruiser of a man, was utterly broken.
"I can't say that I would do the same if I found someone who looked like my wife," he cleared his throat. "But I can see it now. I can see it, and I feel like utter shit. But I can see it."
"God. They had the same color hair. The same color eyes. The same fucking smile," Dante's voice cracked as he remembered.
I said nothing.
There was nothing to say.
"Take it from me," Dante's voice cracked. "Don't waste a second."
My heart caught as I heard the emotion in the man's voice. Even though I couldn't see him, I knew that he was on the verge of tears.
I took his words to heart, though.
The moment I got my woman alone tonight, I was done wasting time.
I was going to have her back, and I was going to make her mine forever and always.
Chapter 26
Skinny girls shouldn't be in charge of the thermostat. You need a middle-aged woman, thirty pounds overweight, with hot flashes named Bertha.
-Rules to live by
Naomi
I looked at Sean warily.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
In answer, he wrapped his arms around me and placed a wet kiss on my mouth.
Then he pushed me onto the bed and walked away from me, disappearing into the closet.
"What … "
He was back before I could ask him more, and in his hand was a black box that looked like a ring box.
"Sean … "
He dropped down to his knee in front of me, and I forgot how to freakin' breathe.
"Sean … "
"Naomi, two years ago, I didn't believe that I'd ever be here," he said softly, looking down at the ring box that he had in his hand. "I'd been waiting to find the woman I was meant to spend my life with for so long, that I was starting to believe I'd never find her. I'd tried to give my heart away a few times, but no one seemed to want it. Now I know, though, that it was because all along it was meant for you. He looked up. "I didn't know that you were out there, but you have the power to bring me to my knees. But now that I do know how my life can be with you, I don't want to spend another minute without you being tied to me in every single way possible."