Biker romance book bundl.., p.362
Biker Romance Book Bundle: 17 Full Length Novels, page 362
Before I finished my thoughts, he turned down a county road. There were hills, views of the beautiful mountains in the distance, and rolling fields of the greenest grass, but Goose paid no attention.
None of it seemed to matter.
The vehicle slowed. He looked off to his left. “Cleaned the place up a little.”
We rolled past a mailbox marked PEARCE.
I swallowed heavily. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do that’ll make me ready.”
“You sure you want to—”
He nodded. “I’m sure.”
The home was what I would have pictured as a typical Montana farm home—a two-story house with upstairs dormer windows and a full front porch. The brick red paint with white trim suited it well.
The surrounding acreage was well-trimmed. The landscape around the home was manicured to a greater degree of perfection than I would have expected to see on any farm.
When we turned into the driveway, I noticed wooden flowerpots along the porch. “What are those yellow flowers on the porch?”
He grinned. “Yellow Bells.”
With my stomach in a knot, we idled along the winding entrance until we reached the home. When we came to a stop, Goose exhaled a long breath.
He leaned to the side and kissed me. “C’mon, I’m not doing this alone.”
“I wouldn’t let you do it alone.”
We walked hand in hand toward the house. The front door opened before we reached the porch. A man dressed in a short-sleeved blue and white plaid shirt, jeans, and boots stood in the opening. He looked just like Goose, only twenty years older. He wore his salt and pepper hair cut short, like his son’s.
His skin was tan. Slight wrinkles were visible at the corners of his narrow eyes. He was strikingly handsome. A hint at what I had to look forward to in twenty years. He took a step into the porch, and then another.
His bottom lip quivered.
The totality of what was happening hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Maggie!” he yelled. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“You look good, Pop,” Goose said, stepping onto the porch. “You look healthy.”
The man pursed his lips and gave a nod. It was easy to see that he was on the verge of tears. “Eighteen…” He swallowed heavily. “Eighteen years, two months, and four days,” he said. “One day at a time.”
“Since what?” Goose asked.
I didn’t have to ask. I knew. My father had been in and out of Alcoholics Anonymous his entire life.
“Since I had a drink,” the man said.
Goose gulped. “What about Ma?”
“Eighteen years, two months, and a week. She dragged me in there against my will. Ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I’m proud of you, Pop.”
His father pursed his lips and gave a slight nod.
“Pop, I want you to meet someone,” Goose said.
I stepped onto the porch. My heart was aflutter. I extended a shaking hand. “Ally. Ally Ferretti.”
“Gordon Pearce.” A tear rolled along his cheek. “Senior.”
A woman nudged her way past Gordon Senior, all but knocking him down. She blew past me with a flash and landed against Goose’s chest with open arms. After a tear-filled hug, she leaned away and gave him a good look-over.
“You’re late,” she blubbered.
Goose wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm. “For what?”
She steadied her quivering lips. “Dinner.”
The three of them shed a tear together. Eighteen years of missed birthdays, lonely holidays, and the grueling process of maintaining sobriety trickled down their cheeks.
I joined them in their tears. Not out of sorrow, but out of joy. For what the future held. When the tears finally faded, Goose gestured in my direction.
“Ma, this is Ally,” Goose said. “We’re uhhm…”
He didn’t finish his thought.
I offered my hand, nonetheless. She hugged me instead, holding me tight against her. Being held in a woman’s arms was a feeling I’d never known. It felt all too natural.
While the three people surrounding me nursed their drying tears, another rolled down my cheek.
She released me, and then hugged me again, taking my breath from me when she did.
If Goose had been gone eighteen years, and his parents had been sober eighteen years, they’d sobered up just as soon as he left. I felt sad and happy at the same time. The look on Goose’s face told me he was elated to see them. The tears in their eyes let me know they felt the same way.
Shaking with excitement, his mother gestured toward the door. “Come in.” She reached for Goose’s hand with her left, and my hand with her right. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Hand-in-hand, we followed her into the home. We stayed for a dinner of pot roast, carrots, and potatoes. Afterward, we all had a slice of apple pie.
We sat around the table discussing Southern California’s weather and drinking coffee. There hadn’t been any apologies offered, nor were there any questions asked. Everyone simply picked up the pieces of what they had in front of them and put them together.
His mother, a petite blonde woman with freckled skin, sipped her coffee. “So, how did you meet?”
“We met at Porter’s funeral,” Goose said.
“We were sorry to hear about that,” she said. “It was an awful thing. We’d have sent flowers, but—”
“Erin tell you about it?” Goose asked.
“We talk to her every chance we get,” She said with a nod. “It’s the only way we knew how to keep up.”
Goose nodded.
“Did you get the letters we sent?” she asked.
“Cash—Brock gave ‘em to me,” Goose said. “Never opened ‘em. Hard to explain.”
“No need,” his father said.
I felt so sad for what they’d all gone through. I hoped when considering their sobriety—and their love for him—that Goose could truly forgive them for what they’d done.
“Ever think about coming to California?” he asked. “To visit?”
His mother smiled. “You know, I’ve never been out of this state.”
“Would you consider it?” he asked.
“I’d love to come down there,” she said with a smile. “I’m so tired of the winters here.”
“What about you, Pop? Would you come down?”
“I’d enjoy that,” His father said. “Always wanted to see the ocean.”
Goose smiled a prideful smile. “It’s a long story, but Porter left me a home on the beach. The ocean’s in my back yard.”
“Oh my,” his mother gasped. “That’s exciting.”
“The sunsets are phenomenal,” Goose said.
“Maybe around Christmas,” she said.
“I was thinking June,” Goose said.
“Oh, I don’t know about coming in the summer,” she said. “It would be so hot.”
“It’s sixty-five in the winter, and seventy-five in the summer, Ma. And, I really need you to consider coming in June, if you can. I’ll buy the plane tickets.”
“What’s happening in June?” she asked.
I wondered the same thing.
Goose stood, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and then sat down. After nervously looking at his mother and father, he pulled his cupped hand from his pocket and placed it between us.
“That depends,” he said. “On what she says.”
He moved his hand to the side, uncovering an elegant diamond ring set in white gold.
His mother gasped.
His father coughed.
Me?
I said yes.
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Hildreth, Scott, Biker Romance Book Bundle: 17 Full Length Novels
