Until they’d begun to tend to the love between them.
Okay, so she was still a sap.
Sam felt a touch at her shoulder and glanced over to see that Ava had been replaced with Maggie. Her stomach tightened. She had a deep affection for the woman because she was so real. Honest to a fault, capable, as at home in an outlaw organization as her own kitchen where she whipped up dinner miracles, Maggie Teague was a Southern grand dame in the truest sense. A woman to be reckoned with on all counts.
But like any grand dame, she intimidated the hell out of Sam.
Maggie gave her a slow, sly smile. “He loves you.”
Sam choked on her own spit. As Maggie reached over to pound on her back, she gasped, “What?”
“Aidan,” Maggie said. “My little boy. He was a mess when I got him, you know. His mama had just abandoned him and his daddy was totally clueless. I was in high school, but even I could see how broken he was.” She glanced across the lot toward her stepson, her profile lovely. She was still young, Sam realized. She’d just turned forty, and that wasyoung, given all that she’d lived through, given she’d raised another man’s child.
“He’s handsome like his daddy,” Maggie continued, “and God knows Kenny could…” She trailed off, smile private. Then she seemed to shake herself. “But he doesn’t have a lot of faith in women. Not after what that bitch Olivia did to him,” she said venomously. “How do you leave your own son behind? How do you reject him?”
“I have no idea,” Sam said quietly. “It makes me sick.”
Maggie nodded in an approving way. “I know he’s sewn his wild oats, and I know he’s been…” Her expression became pained. “Irresponsible and stupid.”
“Maggie–” Sam started.
The woman turned toward her, gaze direct, full of emotion. “But he loves you, Sam. He’s been waiting for someone like you.”
Sam swallowed hard, throat aching.
“Please take good care of my little boy,” Maggie said in a whisper. “He needs this. He needs you.”
Sam nodded.
“Do you love him?”
“Completely.”
Maggie glanced away, looking relieved and satisfied. “Good. Thank God.”
A sharp whistle broke the mood, captured everyone’s attention. It had been Walsh, thumb and forefinger in his mouth.
Ghost said, “Ladies, are we ready?”
“Yes,” they all replied in chorus.
~*~
Sam had been on the back of his bike only once, and that was on the way over here. He’d presented her with a brand new helmet that still smelled of fresh plastic and had fit her like a glove. “Is it okay?” he’d asked, worried. “I told the sales lady I needed one for a gorgeous chick, and she picked out the size.”
The same helmet was handed to her now as she settled onto the little bump seat on the back of Aidan’s Harley Dyna Superglide. Sam buckled it into place and scooted forward. With her feet on the pegs, she had no choice but to lean against his back and wrap her arms tight around his waist. It was a bike built for speed, he’d told her, and he’d been worried she’d reject it. This machine that was a part of him.
Sam wrapped herself around Aidan and propped her chin on his shoulder. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he said back.
“Later…after tonight…can we go out on this thing just the two of us?”
He smiled broadly. “Hell yes, baby. You just name the day.”
Another whistle from Walsh caught their attention.
Ghost, at the head of the line, Maggie behind him on his bike, waved an arm. “Let’s go,” he called.
