The Billionaire Biker Page 2

  “My parents kicked me out, and then I lost the baby.”

  “When?” His voice was a croak.

  “When? About three months after you left.”

  “Abby—”

  “Yes,” she said. “The baby was yours.”

  Chapter 2

  It couldn’t be true. He didn’t want it to be true. But he and Abby had always been honest with each other, and he knew from the look on her face that it was.

  “Mine? Are you sure?” A large hand had somehow dug into his chest and was currently squeezing his heart so tight he thought it would burst.

  This was Jax’s fucking incentive?

  She stood near the desk, her arms folded, her gaze level. “Unless I slept with someone else at that party and I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”

  Of course she hadn’t. She’d slept with him.

  “The condom—”

  “Failed.”

  Oh, shit. He’d thought that night couldn’t have gotten any worse. Clearly, he was wrong. He lifted a hand to his hair to push it back and out of his eyes, and found that his hand was shaking.

  He’d faced down guns, and fists, and all kinds of serious shit, and had never been scared. Yet now, here was his best friend, the woman he hadn’t seen for five years, and he was trembling like a little girl.

  She’d gotten pregnant. She’d lost the baby.

  Their baby.

  He couldn’t breathe. Out of all the scenarios that had gone through his head as he’d made his way back to New York and the Morrows, seeing Abby and finding out she’d lost their baby had not been one of them.

  She’d always been such a little thing. Small and delicate, with untidy brown hair and the most beautiful eyes, halfway between green and gray. She’d been vulnerable back then, a misfit in her own blue-blooded family, with a manipulative asshole father and a mother who didn’t give a shit. A misfit just like him.

  But the woman standing near Jax’s desk now was different from the shy, awkward girl he remembered. Her hair that had once been down to her waist was now in a glossy bob that grazed her jawline, and she wore a dark gray pantsuit with a deep green blouse that picked up the color of her eyes. She looked stylish and elegant, but that wasn’t the biggest change in her.

  The biggest change was the expression of quiet strength and confidence in her eyes. A strength and confidence that hadn’t been there before. As if she’d been through hell and come out the other side.

  She has. And you weren’t there.

  Sean stuck his hands into the pockets of his suit again, turned away, and walked a few steps, gazing sightlessly at the oak bookshelf stuffed with leather-bound, seriously intellectual looking books that stood against one wall. Trying to get his flailing emotions under control.

  “I tried to find you,” she said in the same level, implacable voice. “I wanted to tell you. But you’d gone and no one knew where. Then I heard you’d joined that gang and … ” She stopped. “I didn’t know how to get in touch with you.”

  He didn’t think it was possible for his self-loathing to get any worse. He was wrong.

  “Dad kicked me out when he found out I was pregnant. And when I lost the baby, Jax helped me,” Abby went on, relentless. “He gave me a job at Morrow and that’s where I’ve been ever since. Which brings me back to why I’m here.”

  There were words to say. Words he should be saying. But they were stuck in his throat, the way the important words always got stuck. So he didn’t say anything at all, just stood there with his hands in his pockets, his back to her, fighting the horrible, biting pain in his chest.

  Kids had never been in his game plan—hell, he was only twenty-three, too young to be thinking about things like happy families. And that right there was the main reason he hadn’t. Happy families had been pretty thin on the ground when he’d been growing up. Both with his own mother and, after she’d died, when he’d been taken in by his father, Patrick Morrow.

  But shit, his kid …

  Keep it locked down, man. Don’t start getting all emotional for Christ’s sake. That won’t help.

  “In a week or two, Morrow is having a ground-breaking ceremony for a special development on the site of the old Morrow HQ,” Abby continued on as he fought to get himself back in hand. “Jax is hoping you’ll accept his job offer and, of course, he wants you at the ceremony. The three brothers together as a sign of Morrow solidarity, to represent the future of the company. But before that happens, you’ll need a major image overhaul and that’ll be my job.”

  Image overhaul? Docklands development? What the fuck? He was only barely processing the fact that their one night together had resulted in a child, a child she’d lost. He couldn’t deal with all this other shit as well.

  The best way to handle it was to do what he always did when there was too much crap going on at once: deal with the most important thing first. And that was the baby.With an effort, Sean forced away the pain and confusion and turned sharply. “Stop, Abby. You lost our baby?” The words came out sounding way too cold, almost accusing.

  There was a tightening around her mouth, minute but he saw it. “Not on purpose, Sean, believe me.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you didn’t mean it. And I know it’s a lot to take in. But right now, what you need to know is that I’m going to be handling your image makeover. Turning you into a proper Morrow.” Her nose wrinkled. “And getting rid of that suit for a start.”

  Sean blinked. She sounded so matter-of-fact. Like … like it didn’t matter to her.

  She’s had five years to get over it, don’t forget.

  Yeah, while he had the news sprung on him. Now.

  “I was around,” he said, his voice thick. “You could have fucking told me.”

  She staunchly held his gaze. “No, Sean. You weren’t around. I left messages for you everywhere I could think of. But you’d removed yourself so completely, I couldn’t find you.”

  Of course, she was right. He had. He’d run that night. Run and run and run. From the way she’d looked at him with her heart in her eyes. From the broken trust he knew he’d leave in his wake. And he’d basically never stopped.

  “Actually, I didn’t expect you’d agree to any of this,” she went on, in the same calm voice. “I did warn Jax that you’d probably take off rather than stay. Leaving is what you’re best at, after all.” The expression in her smoky green eyes was level, as if she wasn’t expecting anything more from him. And why should she?

  He’d been a massive disappointment to most people in his life: his mother, his stepmother, his father, his brothers. But the one person who’d made him feel like he wasn’t bad all the way through had been her.

  Then he’d left her. And now she was expecting him to do it a second time.

  Yet he wasn’t the same man he’d been back then—though “man” was a loose term for the powerless kid he’d once been. Suffocating in anger and frustration at the adults who were supposed to look after him, care about him, and didn’t.

  The club had though. They’d cared. They had their own code and expected the brothers to abide by it, and when that code was broken, there were consequences. He’d liked that. Liked that people had to answer for actions. So when the next enforcer job had come up, he’d made sure he was chosen.

  He’d found some peace after that. He’d found control over his life.

  So, no, he wasn’t going to run. He’d broken his own code and slept with her, then he’d taken off. Which meant now he needed to face the consequences of that. And pay them, whatever they were.

  He took his hands out of his pockets, walked over to the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. Sat down. Leaned back and met her gaze.

  “I guess I’m not much good at leaving after all.”

  * * *

  That was unexpected. Stubborn bastard.

  Abby leaned back against Jax’s desk, ignoring the clutch of emotions that talking about the miscarriage always brought on. The sharp pain, anguish,
and helpless anger had faded over the past five years, but they did bubble up at times.

  Sean’s reaction was … different. She’d expected shock, then his usual method of dealing with anything traumatic, which was to close down and not say a word. Oh, yes, that and leaving.

  Well, he’d turned away and been silent—so far, so Sean. But she hadn’t thought he’d actually stay.

  She wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that.

  “You look shocked,” he said.

  “Shocked is probably too strong a word. Let’s go with … surprised.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “It’s been five years, Abby. I’m not eighteen anymore.”

  No. He quite definitely wasn’t. He sat in the chair, a massive silent presence, in a suit that looked two sizes too small. A suit that only drew attention to the raw, untamed quality of him, and not in a good way. With his shaggy hair, the scar on his face, and his broken nose, he looked dangerous. Threatening. Not exactly the look Jax was going for.

  It appeared she had work to do. Quite a lot of work to do, in fact, which meant she needed to ignore those old emotions his presence brought flooding back again. Bury them. She didn’t need him these days. She was much stronger than that. Abby pushed herself away from the desk and crossed the space between her and Sean. He watched her come, dark brown eyes unreadable. “I can see that. Okay, well, I think we’ll tackle your appearance first,” she said thoughtfully, giving him a critical once-over. His blond hair was way too long, longer than she remembered it. Hanging over his eyes and making him look even more disreputable.

  Or sexy, depending on your point of view.

  Something rolled over inside her. Stretched. A feeling she hadn’t felt for a long, long time …

  His eyes were still mesmerizing, still full of secrets. His bottom lip still had that curve that gave his mouth a sensual shape she used to dream about at night when she’d been fourteen and had just started noticing how hot her best friend was. The hard line of his jaw still made her want to kiss it and the strong column of his throat was still …

  Still incredibly sexy, in other words.

  Heat prickled all over her skin. She blinked. No, it had been years and years since she’d seen him. Years and years since their night together. And there was no way, no way in hell she would ever go back there again.

  Sean seemed to be doing a similar inventory, his gaze slipping to the top of her blouse, where she’d left a few buttons undone. Lingering. And that irritating heat intensified.

  Shit. This was so not the greatest time for her to be feeling attraction.

  She cleared her throat. “So first we’ll get you a haircut, then—”

  “No,” he interrupted, his deep voice low and flat. “No haircut.”

  “Seriously? You’re attached to your hair?”

  He didn’t reply, only stared back at her, his face like granite.

  “You’re not Samson, you know. You’re not going to get weaker if someone cuts your hair.”

  Sean said nothing. But the look in his dark eyes was watchful, as if he were taking her all in and making some sort of assessment. It was kind of unnerving.

  Maybe she’d come back to the haircut later. When things weren’t so tense and difficult between them. “What about the suit then?” She frowned. There was something familiar about it … “Oh, God, Sean. Is that the same suit your father got you for the Yale interview?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “You kept it all this time?”

  A flicker of discomfort crossed his features then was gone. He lifted his shoulder again, the dark wool stretching tight, the seams straining. “Seemed a waste to get rid of it.”

  She remembered that suit. Remembered seeing Sean in it just before he’d had to go off with his father for the interview, stiff as a wooden fence post and hating the fact that he’d had to go. Another place he felt he’d never belong.

  Her poor, silly teenaged heart had beaten a little faster seeing him in that suit. And then she’d felt like a traitor for admiring him in it when he’d hated putting it on so much.

  He’d obviously grown since then, filling out the lanky lines of his eighteen-year-old teenaged self with pure muscle, and a traitorous part of her wanted to see him in a better-fitting suit, one that would enhance his muscular figure instead of limiting it.

  It’s about the image, remember? Stick with the program.

  “Yes, well,” she said. “You can’t be seen wearing that. You need something custom-made for the ceremony, not to mention a few more to wear in the interim. Hmmm. I think a whole new wardrobe wouldn’t go amiss in fact. We’ll do that tomorrow. Hit Fifth Avenue. I’ll organize an appointment with—”

  “I’ve got jeans and a few T-shirts. I don’t need anything else.”

  Abby raised a brow. “You do. Because it’s not only the ground-breaking ceremony we have to attend. Jax wants a ‘welcome back’ party for you, to show everyone you’re home now. Also … ” She hesitated. Jax had quite a few plans for his youngest brother. Plans he’d thought Sean probably wouldn’t accept straight off. And udging from Sean’s expression now, Jax had been right. “He mentioned the role he wants you to take in the company, didn’t he?”

  A spark of something hot glowed in Sean’s eyes. “Yeah. He did.”

  “Then you’ll realize he wants you to attend meetings with him, follow him—”

  “I haven’t decided on anything yet,” Sean said flatly. “I’m not a fucking dog. I’m not following him anywhere.”

  Abby remained quiet, studying him. Was he angry? He certainly seemed so, and probably no wonder. She hadn’t helped the situation by not only appearing out of nowhere but then dropping the baby bomb on him. He needed some time to get himself together. Time to think.

  He left you. He doesn’t deserve any time.

  The small flash of anger that came with the thought irritated her. No, she was done with that. Anger had achieved nothing but heartache. The only way to move on was to let go of those feelings and keep facing the future, not the past.

  “Well,” she said in a neutral voice. “We can talk about that later. But you’re okay with getting a new suit, right?”

  That watchful gaze moved over her, gauging something though she didn’t know quite what. After a moment, the hard line of his jaw relaxed. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “And I’m sure your jeans and T-shirts are fine, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a few more things, right? Dying in a ditch over clothes seems a little … extreme.”

  Another expression flicked over his features, one she couldn’t read. His eyes narrowed. “Why are you doing this, Abby?”

  The change of subject caught her by surprise. “Why am I doing what?”

  “This image thing with me.” He paused, studying her face in that startlingly intense way she remembered from years ago. “I would have thought I’d be the last man in the world you’d want to see.”

  The complicated mix of pain, anguish, and anger twisted inside her again but she fought it back, determined not to let it win. “For a while you were,” she said carefully. “But that’s all in the past now. Jax asked me if I’d help him with you and I said yes because … I owe him.”

  “You didn’t do it because you wanted to see me, then?”

  He’d always been better at the whole honesty thing than she was. Straight up, no bullshit, that was Sean. But she liked to have a bit more protection than that. Growing up with a father who pointed out every slight, every reason she wasn’t good enough, had left her with personal armor inches thick, and she had no plans to drop that armor any time soon. She’d been vulnerable too often in her life and it sucked.

  “Of course,” she said, lying just a little bit. “I hadn’t seen you for a long time and I thought it would be … nice to say hello.”

  “And to tell me about the baby, of course.” He said it without inflection and she couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

  “Yes,” she replied. “That, too.”

/>   Abruptly he pushed himself out of the chair, and she found herself taking a quick step back before she’d even realized what she was doing.

  His brow creased, and she recognized pain in his eyes. A brief flash of it. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Abby.”

  An answering pain echoed in her heart. “I’ve never been afraid of you, Sean. You know that.” Which was, of course, another lie. There had been one time she’d been afraid of him.

  The night they’d crossed the line. When the terrifying reality of her feelings for him had finally been brought home to her.

  Sean hadn’t only been her friend. He had also been her escape from the relentless criticisms leveled at her by her father and her mother’s wordless agreement with him. Her haven from the constant whittling away of her self-esteem. The one person who built her back up every time her parents tore her down.

  A friend she’d risked losing by sleeping with him.

  And lose him she had. He glanced away and she knew he’d spotted her lie, because he always did. “I have to get out of here. Sorry, but I hate being cooped up and after … all of this, I need some time.”

  She folded her hands in front of her. “Sure. Where are you staying? I’ll come by tomorrow first thing and we’ll start getting you a proper wardrobe.”

  “Some place downtown. Give me your number and I’ll text you the details.”

  Abby reached into her pocket for one of the business cards she always kept in it. “Here,” she said, holding it out to him.

  “Thanks.” He came over and took the card, then moved on towards the doors. “See you tomorrow.”

  Abby watched him leave, battling a strange urge to call him back. To say something, though she didn’t really know what. Apologize for throwing all this at him so quickly maybe.

  Why should you apologize? He’s the one who left you….

  She looked away, swallowing down the feeling. And didn’t say anything at all.

  Chapter 3

  “All I’m asking for is a week, Sean.” Jax’s voice on the phone was maddeningly calm. “Then if you don’t want to take on the role, you don’t have to.”