EIGHTEEN
Steele nudged Breezy with his shoulder as she put away the last of the dishes she always insisted on washing even though they had a state-of-the-art dishwasher. “Will you go swimming with us?” The way her hair curled and waved in big swaths, highlighting the gold strands, always fascinated him.
Steele loved having Breezy and Zane in their home. Most of the time he couldn’t sleep, getting up numerous times to stare down at his son’s face or his woman’s. They both slept peacefully, something that was nearly impossible for him. Breezy kept his demons at bay, giving him enough time to initially fall asleep, but within a few hours or so, they were back.
He didn’t mind getting up and prowling around the house to ensure every door and window was locked and the security system was on. He’d had to get after Breezy daily because she had a tendency to go out a door and, when she came back in, forget to lock it or turn on the security system. Truthfully, that made him a little crazy, but he promised himself he’d be patient about it. Even with what happened to Zane, she didn’t get that the doors needed to be locked at all times.
They both wanted Zane sleeping in their room with them, just grateful they had him, neither wanting to have him far from them even at night, but the little boy woke up at any noise. The third night they fixed up the sitting room off their master bedroom as a nursery. Zane went right to sleep, and as they stared at the monitor, he slept perfectly.
Breezy sang. All the time. Steele loved that. Loved it. She sang to Zane as she dressed him for the day. When she changed him. When she fed him. She sang as she cooked meals. Maestro and Keys sometimes came down to play instruments. He’d ordered a piano because he had enough room for one and Maestro said Zane should have it.
He noticed Breezy loved music, especially when they all got together. Zane was wild about the music, and it was clear to Steele that the boy would always want to be around it. The music sessions often deteriorated into Zane banging on pots and pans like he was playing the drums, but they all had a great time.
Zane clung a little more to Breezy than he had in the past, at least according to her, but he wasn’t having nightmares. He liked all the club members when they came around. He didn’t appear to be shy or in the least afraid of them. He liked that she encouraged their son to get to know everyone. She didn’t hold the boy back at all. Each of the members of Torpedo Ink spent time with Zane. She watched them closely, but she gave them the opportunity, and he appreciated her even more for that.
Steele took his time getting to know his son—or rather, letting his son get to know him. Zane liked the water, and Steele’s first priority was to make him water safe. He made certain Zane knew that if he wanted to swim, to come to Steele and Steele would take him in. The boy loved the water, and the pool was heated so even in the cold they could swim.
Steele took him into the water several times a day, holding him close at first and then teaching him to hold his breath and how to swim. They went in at night before bedtime, with the idea it would help Zane sleep. Steele was hoping it would help him sleep. It didn’t, but he found he enjoyed the time swimming as much as Zane seemed to.
“Can’t, Steele. I’m going into Sea Haven. Did Transporter ever bring my truck back? I don’t want to take your truck, it’s too big.”
His breath stilled in his lungs. At no time had Breezy ever indicated she wanted to leave the safety of their home. He straightened slowly from where he’d been leaning against the counter, watching her do the last of the dishes. “Your truck?”
She sighed and pushed back the thick mass of her wild hair. “Yes, honey. My truck. The one I drove here all the way from Santa Fe. I know you think it’s junk, but it’s mine.”
“It isn’t safe. You know it isn’t safe, and so do I.” Let her fight with him over the old rusty pickup she’d driven. And the thing wasn’t in her name. It was in her boss’s name. It didn’t matter that she had a piece of paper saying she’d bought it from the woman. The title wasn’t in her name or Code would have found her a long time ago. If push came to shove, he could throw that at her—and he would.
“That’s not true.” She stopped. Took a breath and then nodded. “I can see why you wouldn’t think it was safe, but I need my own vehicle. Transporter is good with engines. He can fix it, can’t he? He’s been busy, coming with us and all, but the pickup actually ran good.”
“Babe.” One word. That said it all. She knew better.
She waited and when he didn’t speak, she went to step past him. He caught her around the waist, his arm a bar, blocking her.
“I can buy you something else.” Something with armor. “We’ll head down to Santa Rosa or the Bay and get you something that is safer for Zane.” That was always a good move. Breezy responded to all things that had anything to do with Zane’s safety.
She thought that over. “I hate that you have to buy it for me.”
“Damn it, Breezy. We’re . . .” He paused. Took a breath. There was that pride she’d developed and with it came stubbornness. “Let’s get married. What’s mine belongs to you anyway. Not the bike, but the rest of it. All of it. It’s mostly got your name on it if it’s worth anything.”
Breezy looked shocked. “You want to get married?”
His heart skipped a beat. “Don’t you? You’re in love with me. You know how I feel about you. We have a son.”
“Marriage is something you don’t take lightly, Steele. You don’t propose in order to get your way over a car.”
She sounded so snippy he wanted her right there all over again. He’d taken her once on top of the dishwasher already. He could again if she gave him that voice. Made him as hard as a damned rock.
“I told you I wanted to marry you, back when we were first together I wanted to put my name on you.”
“Like a brand. I’m not cattle.”
He stepped deliberately into her space. “You’re anything but, woman, and you know that. Yes or no? You going to marry me? You already have your name on the house and bank account. If something had happened to me, the club would have continued to try to track you down because you would have gotten it all.”
He saw by her expression that was big. “Baby, I told you. I was coming after you. I bought the house for you. I want to marry you, but if you want to wait and spend more time with me, I’ll be okay with that too.” He shrugged his shoulders, going for casual when he was feeling anything but. He’d promised himself he’d be honest with her. “I’m well aware I need the security of marriage more than you do, but I can wait. It will happen eventually.”
He despised that he couldn’t quite get over wondering from one hour to the next if Breezy could really love him, but it was getting better. Slowly, but he was getting there.
“Of course I want to marry you,” she said, and instantly her face changed to one of suspicion. “You don’t already have some huge ring that will weigh down my entire hand, do you? Because if you do, we’re taking it back.”
He found himself smiling all over again. “No, we can pick that out together.”
“Okay then, but I still want my truck back. I need my own ride.”
He nodded. “I get that, baby. A car isn’t going to break us. I don’t ask a lot of you.” That was a damn fucking lie, but she didn’t know it. “Do it for me. Let me get rid of the truck. If you think your boss in Santa Fe needs it back, we’ll get it to her. Otherwise, we’ll have Transporter fix it up for Kenny or Darby. But let me get a car I think is safe for you and Zane.”
He realized the moment he said Transporter could fix it up for Kenny or Darby, she would wonder why it couldn’t be fixed up for her. He saw that on her face, but then, because she was Breezy, she hooked her palm around the nape of his neck.
“I will. I’ll drive whatever car you want me to, but honey, you don’t live your life safe. You never have. But I still, right now, need transportation. You’re going to stay