Page 43 of Taking What's Ours

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Page 43 of Taking What's Ours

My eyes are drawn toward the bar. Baja stands next to Lola and Memphis. A young girl runs over, and Baja ruffles the hair on her head, then squats to tie her shoelaces. When he stands, she hugs his waist. A three-year-old boy walks over, and Memphis scoops him in his arms. Baja grins and tickles him.

Baja laughs, and Memphis passes the child to him.

Something about seeing Baja holding the little boy sends warmth through my heart. I’ve noticed the little ones in the clubhouse. How could I not? But I’ve tried to avoid looking at them. In this situation, in front of all these strangers, it’s almost a protective measure I take. I know that every time I see children, I feel that hollow, empty feeling—that longing that eats at me until I can’t stand it. But I can’t look away from Baja, and seeing him smiling at the boy takes some of the sting out of the pain.

He’d be a good father. I can tell by the way he is with them.

I can tell by the way he is with me.

He may be a member of this club, and I know better than to sugarcoat any of what that means. But underneath, at his heart, I just know he’s a good man.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Baja—

Evelyn strolls over and joins Lola, Memphis and I at the bar, but it’s me she pins with her eyes.

“She’s a nice girl, Baja. I like her. Don’t fuck this up.”

The corner of my mouth curves. Maybe because her giving me orders is cute, but I think it’s because I’m glad she likes Elaina. It makes me happy the girls approve of her.

“There’s nothing to fuck up, sweetheart. She’s my brother’s girl.”

“Not anymore, way I hear it.”

“She hasn’t decided anything yet. Besides, I think she’s a little too high class for the likes of me.”

“Maybe you should take her some place nice,” Lola suggests. “And by the way, we’re stealing her for a girl’s day on Friday.”

I chuckle. “Yes, ma’am. What are you going to do with her?”

“That’s none of your business.” She grins and walks toward Rock at the end of the bar.

“Guess she told you,” Memphis mutters, taking his son out of my arms. “Maybe you should go get your girl before they tell her all about you.”

That has me straightening. There’s a lot they could tell. “She’s not my girl.” I hear his laughter behind me as I head to get Elaina.

“Sure, she’s not, brother. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

I snag Elaina’s hand. “Come on. Let’s play pool.”

“Pool?” She trails behind me. “I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you.” There are a couple prospects playing, but I run them off quick enough with just a word. “Scram.”

They drop their cues on the table and walk away while I rack a new game. When I’m done, I explain the rudimentary rules of 8-ball. “Got it?”

“I think so. Am I stripes or solids?”

“Depends what you sink when you break.”

“Oh.”

“You can go first,” I offer.

She leans and makes the break shot, sinking the two-ball.

“Guess you’re solids,” I say with a grin and nod to the table. “Keep going.”




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