Free Wrangled Mess by Reese Madison Page A

guest room. You tell me.”
    “Can I trust you not to roll over, and into me, in the middle of the night?”
    “For now, but once we’re married, it’s game on. I get to roll over, and into you, all I want. In fact, I’m having that written into our vows.”
    I laughed and hugged him as hard as I could knowing he won’t break. Kissing the top of his head made me think of holding our children some day, and kissing the tops of their heads, and their little boo-boos. I sighed feeling completely sated and content. Safe.
     
    Trace shoved a handful of toilet tissue into a trash bag. “What’s up with the bikes Cookie?” So much for getting out of this conversation.
    I sighed, “Oh yeah. They’re my dad’s. I’m… storing them for him.” I’ve been dreading this conversation because now I know he’s a biker, not just a wrangler. That’s fine, but the fact that he’s a Colson means I’m going to have to face up to a fear I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with yet.
    “Why?” His instincts won’t allow him to let me off with such a vague reply.
    “He was in an accident about four years ago. Fucked him up pretty bad. Took two years of physical and psychological therapy to get him to walk again. The day his doctor told him he’d never ride again, he stood in his garage over those bikes and cried silently for hours.
    “He wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t move. Tears fell for hours in steady streams that broke my heart one blood vessel at a time. I was his favorite kid to ride with. The only one really interested in riding. We went everywhere together.” I wiped a tear away as Trace pulled me up into his arms.
    “I’m sorry sweetheart.”
    I let myself indulge for a moment, then decided this was not going to ruin my night. I stepped back and kissed his hands one at a time. “It’s okay. I couldn’t ride again after that day. Other than to bring those beauties over and put them under covers. That was over two years ago. Slider helped me move them. He’s actually the last person I’ve ridden with. That was also the day dad gave me Slider as a client.”
    “Sounds like your father means a lot to Slider.”
    “They’re good friends. I’m not sure how they met, probably riding. I asked Dad once why he didn’t join the club. He said he needed to remain objective for Slider. It made sense, so I just left it alone.”
    He looked into my eyes with his finger under my chin, “What were you planning to do with all those bikes?”
    I shrugged, “Let you ride them?”
    From the look on his face, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “Celeste.” That’s who I am when he scolds me. I like it.
    “I never thought I’d ride again Trace. I would have told you sooner if I’d known your last name. You didn’t even tell me you had a bike, let alone belong to the club.” I reminded him this isn’t all my fault, dammit.
    “That doesn’t answer my question. If you didn’t plan to ride again, why hoard the bikes?”
    “I can’t sell them, are you crazy?? Those are my dad’s.”
    “Uh huh.” His tone suggests I’ve just been played.
    I pushed him away gently, “Get back to work smarty pants. I’ll think about the riding again stuff, just give me some time. I know you’re not going to want someone who can’t ride with you.”
    “I never said that.”
    “It’s true nonetheless. Maybe we should slow down here. I’m already in over my head.”
    “That was me earlier.” He smacked my butt just hard enough to earn a dirty look. “Let’s get this cleaned up so I can get you back in bed.”
    “No more tonight. I’m done.”
    “Who said anything about you?” He picked up the hose of the vacuum cleaner.
    Before my brain clicked in so I could stop him, he flipped the switch sending little bits of toilet paper all over the place. It’s snowing inside my house. Big, papery, ripped up flakes of snow. Before the floors were covered, now every possible surface in the living and dining room is