Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) Read online

  "You're going to have to," I instructed warily. "So what do I do now?"

  It was the first of many questions swirling around, but for now, it seemed like the most imperative one.

  "Well," Skyler laughed. "I think you need to just rest. You still sound so tired and worn-out, honey, and I don't want you stressing yourself out. Just lay down. Get some rest. We'll schedule you a doctor's appointment tomorrow and when Caleb gets to the clubhouse, I'll tell him you weren't feeling well and send him your way after he's out of church."

  "He's going to be kinda upset if he doesn't see me at the clubhouse right away, you know."

  "Yeah, well, he'll get over it as soon as you bring him up to speed on everything. He'll have his undies in a bunch anyway because of tonight..."

  "Wait a minute, what?"

  There was a long pause on the other end before I finally heard, "Oops."

  "Oops, what?"

  "Oops, I can't tell you," Skyler told me pointedly. "I'd really like to live long enough to at least hold my first grand-baby, you know?"

  "Okay..."

  "Don't worry about anything, Isabelle. Like I said, this will all work itself out."

  Even if Skyler obviously knew something I didn't, my best bet was just to focus on resting and feeling better. So after I hung up and settled into my bed, I pulled the covers around me and hugged Caleb's pillow, inhaling deeply to try to get a little whiff of that musky, citrusy scent that lingered in his pillow.

  He would be home in just a few more hours and then, when I mustered up the courage, I'd give him the news that would completely alter the course of our lives from here on out.

  I was having a baby...Caleb's baby. A soft smile spread across my face as a hand drifted down to cover my stomach.

  Okay, so maybe I wasn't as completely at peace with it as I wanted to be, but like Skyler said, everything would work itself out.

  And besides, finally having a good, peaceful night's sleep next to the father of my baby sounded really good right about now.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Timing Is Everything

  Caleb

  With the shop's parking lot in sight, I blew out the breath I felt like I'd been holding since I pulled out of this place a week ago.

  Finally.

  Home honestly never looked so good. This last run had been a rough one for a couple reasons, but being away from home was easily the hardest part. The entire ride back from Pittsburgh to Claremont just dragged and dragged with each mile feeling longer than the one before it and I hadn't been able to keep the grin off my face since we passed city limits.

  The second my bike came to a stop in the parking lot was the second nerves slammed right through me. Tonight was about a month in the making, with some meticulous planning on my part and a lot of help from my mom and now that it was finally within reach, any hint of cold feet just needed to be shoved away. I'd already come this far and all I had to do now was follow through.

  But as I swung my leg over the side of my bike and scanned the parking lot for that shiny blonde hair and those long, tanned legs, I just couldn't find her. Immediately, my instincts shot into overdrive as my mind worked through all the possible scenarios to explain why she wasn't here in the crowd of people who'd gathered in the parking lot to greet us. Wouldn't I have a text message on my phone already telling me what was up? It wasn't like her to just not communicate like this and now all the scenarios running through my head took a turn for the worse. My phone was in my hand before I could stop myself and I'd already flipped it open with my finger poised over Isabelle's number when some waving to my left caught my eye.

  "Caleb!" my mom called out to me, still waving to me even as she approached me. "I think I know where you're heading, but everything's fine."

  She pulled me into a quick hug and pecked me on the cheek. That didn't do anything to calm my nerves.

  "Isabelle called me about two hours ago and said she wasn't feelin' well."

  All the air in my lungs whooshed out in relief. I knew it was stupid to automatically assume the worst, but what else was I supposed to think?

  "I told her to just get some rest," my mom went on with a smirk that made me a little nervous. "The best thing for her right now is just to sleep and she sounded pretty worn-out."

  "Yeah," I nodded slowly. "She mentioned she hasn't been sleeping too good."

  Now, all my worries shifted and my mind sifted through the conversations we'd had this last week. Even though I hadn't been able to see her, she'd still sounded dead on her feet. The fatigue in her voice...she'd mentioned being stressed about getting ready for the semester showcase. She'd taken on way too much over these last few months and I could only imagine that me being gone this last week hadn't helped.

  "She's fine," my mom put her hand on my cheek to my attention again. "Just head over to her apartment once church is done. Besides, this way you can make sure everything's ready for tonight without her getting any hints, right?"

  I blew out a breath. Knowing that she was sick, maybe I should just—

  "I know what you're thinking, Caleb," my mom told me pointedly. "And I think you should go ahead with your plans. Trust me, you won't be sorry."

  "What do you mean?" I frowned.

  She just shook her head and wrapped an arm around me. "I'm so proud of you. I really am. Everything is starting to work out, isn't it?" She must've seen the way my mouth dipped down and jumped to change the subject. "So, everything all set then?"

  "I just gotta run to the safe in my dorm," I shrugged. "That's all I gotta do. I got the keys and the paperwork in my bike. After church, I'll be all set."

  "That's what I figured," she grinned back at me. "Just as a heads up, she's makin' you dinner tonight too."

  My lips pulled apart in a wince. I figured she'd planned something like that and my stomach churned a little.

  "She really is a horrible cook, isn't she?" she mused.

  "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Ma," I shot my hands up in the air in defense. "My ol' lady's cooking is the bomb."

  Better to be safe than sorry, you know? I'd have to be hog-tied and dragged for a few miles before I'd ever admit out loud that Isabelle's cooking was the worst food I'd ever had in my life.

  My mom just arched an amused eyebrow my way, clearly knowing my game, and shook her head. "Whatever you say. Just let her rest until you get to her apartment, okay? I know you probably wanna call to check on her, but she's fine."

  Huh. That was different. And weird as hell. She was trying a little bit too hard to keep from smiling and a little too hard to keep me from calling Isabelle. Luckily for her, I needed to get my ass to church more than I needed to find out what she was up to.

  Besides, even though I just wanted to hop back on my bike and speed over to Isabelle's apartment, I needed to get paid first. In light of all these monumental steps I'd taken in my life recently, picking up that money-filled envelope was as important now as ever.

  . . .

  "Alright, alright," Marcus pounded the gavel to call church to start. "Let's make this quick, huh? It's Friday. We all got places to be. First of all, we gotta talk about what happened on this last run," his eyes settled on me as he spoke, "Caleb, why don't you give us the run-down."

  I stared back at my club prez for a split second, acutely aware of the way both Casey and Tiny straightened up a little in their seats across from me. None of us had really expected Marcus to put me on the spot like this, but this was just yet another test and another way to prove myself.

  Knowing I needed to get down to business, I cleared my throat and tapped my cigarette into the ashtray in front of me.

  "We got all the way through Charleston with no problems, but when we stopped at a gas station right outside of town, it was pretty obvious we had a tail. Definitely ATF. They weren't even trying to downplay it all—it was like they wanted us to know they were right behind us, watching our every move."

  "Shit," Dom exhaled next to me. "The re-route went okay
though, right?"

  "Yeah," I nodded. "No problems. We hopped on a backroad and changed course to Cincinnati and doubled down there for a few days. Once we got back on the road, we didn't have any other issues."

  It was exactly what had turned a three-day run into a seven-day run and it had also royally pissed me off. These assholes had been in town for at least a few months now and they were always hanging around, like they were daring us to make a wrong move. They acted like we hadn't been an operational club for decades and that we'd be stupid enough to put ourselves in a position to get caught.

  "Pricks," Heath huffed from his seat next to Marcus. "I'm real sick of seein' them in my town."

  "Gotta say though," I mused and took a long drag from my cigarette. "I'm kinda surprised they haven't done more than they have. I mean, they've tailed us around town, tailed us all the way up to Charleston this last run, but that's really it. They've obviously got nothing, but I have a hard time figuring out why they haven't even stepped foot on Horsemen property yet."

  "You'd think that would've been their first move," Casey nodded to me, his eyes crinkled up in thought.

  "Well, after them following us on this last run, I have a feeling we're gonna be hearin' from them sooner rather than later," Marcus called out from the head of the table. "But, that being said, they're not gonna find shit. And until those assholes get outta our backyard, we gotta lay low. No more runs. No more transfers. Meetings only."

  "They keep tailin' us and eventually they'll get what they need," Heath nodded to his prez. "After awhile, they'll either get reassigned or just move on. We've seen it before and this time ain't gonna be any different if we play it the same as every other time."

  "Yeah, but we're also gutting our income by playing it that way," Dom reasoned and I could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

  I was thinking the exact same thing: that income paid the bills. We needed that money. Shit.

  "Yeah, well," Heath shot his son a pointed look from across the table. "If you've got a handle on your money the way you should, holdin' off on runs and other club business for a few more months should be no problem."

  When Dom's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists underneath the table, that was pretty much my cue to step in and diffuse.

  "If we've gotta back down on runs and other business like that for awhile, which I think we can all agree is a good idea, maybe it's time we start looking into other ways to earn and see if—"

  "We're not hard-up for cash, Caleb," Marcus cut in abruptly. "We just keep our shit together for a few months and all this'll blow over before we know it."

  Now it was my turn to fist my hands underneath the table. Everything with him was just one giant battle. One step forward, two steps back. One test after another. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever have a shot at actually passing all these tests, especially if Marcus could so easily dismiss me like that at the table when all I was trying to do was help for shit's sake. It just wasn't up for discussion.

  His way or the fucking highway.

  Given that I'd just spent a shit-ton of money all in the span of about 30 days, I didn't think it was so unreasonable to talk about other ways the club could earn other than guns. All Marcus saw were dollar signs and a quick, easy way out.

  "Let's wrap this up now, huh?" Marcus went on, as if he hadn't just disrespected me in front of the whole club and produced four stuffed envelopes from inside his cut, promptly tossing one to me, Tiny, Casey, and Doc. "Happy payday, boys. Don't spend it all at one strip joint, alright? You gotta spread the love a little. Make sure all the girls know who their daddy is."

  I just shook my head and opted not to comment. What my mom saw in that guy...nah, not going there. Not worth it. Besides, what I needed to do now was swap my earnings for this week with that little velvet box I'd had in my safe for a month.

  . . .

  I let myself into Isabelle's apartment, using the key she'd given me the day she moved in, and tossed my keys on the kitchen counter. It was a pretty small space, but she'd somehow managed to make this tiny one-bedroom apartment feel a little like home even on an equally tiny budget. Her influence in this apartment was everywhere, from the kitchen table and its mismatched chairs we'd found at a consignment shop to the evidence of her blood, sweat, and tears hanging on every wall.

  Man, it was good to be home.

  And, hopefully, if everything went as planned, we'd be calling somewhere else home soon, too.

  I turned the corner and headed right for the hallway, pausing just a moment to smile at the painting hanging right in the center of the wall. The whole canvas was covered in swirls of different shades of blue and sometimes, if I stopped and stared at it for too long, I could get completely lost in the movements of her paintbrush.

  I grinned at the painting one last time before gingerly opening the bedroom door and sneaking inside. Now that grin slipped back up my face again, but this time, it was because my eyes hungrily settled on Isabelle for the first time in seven days. Talk about a sight for sore eyes. She was all curled up onto my side of the bed, hugging my pillow with her hair fanning out all over her face, and I had to take a moment to drink all this in.

  Beautiful. Peaceful. Mine.

  That was all the time I needed before I kicked off my shoes and slid into the bed right behind her so I could pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her. She stirred a little and yawned before finally opening those beautiful blue eyes I'd missed so much.

  "Hey," I murmured into her hair.

  "Hi," she whispered back, her lips curving up into a sweet, tired smile. "I'm glad you're home. I missed you."

  "I missed you, too," I leaned in to kiss her as I spoke, but she crinkled up her nose and quickly turned her head so my lips found her cheek instead.

  "Maybe you shouldn't kiss me," she grimaced.

  "Hey now, I don't care about that. I'm gonna be sleepin' next to you tonight anyway, so I don't think it really matters."

  She laughed a little and shifted in my arms. "I'm pretty sure you can't catch it, but I threw up before I laid down and haven't gotten a chance to brush my teeth yet."

  I frowned at her. "Threw up? My mom said you weren't feeling too hot, but she didn't say anything about that."

  "Yeah," she laughed again and I just didn't see what was so funny about puking. "I feel like I've been throwing up all day."

  The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Did you cook last night?"

  Isabelle whipped around, her eyes darkening with a scary mix of playful animosity and she smacked me in the chest. "Shut up, ya jerk! Yes, I cooked last night and I did not make myself sick."

  Right. Just like I didn't get sick the last time she served me spaghetti with meat sauce that was so raw she might as well have just unwrapped the ground beef and dumped it into the sauce. At least I was smart enough to plaster a smile on my face, swallow down a few bites, and thank her for cooking for me.

  "Okay, okay," I held my hands up in defense. "Sorry. Seriously, though, are you feeling okay?"

  She shrugged a little and leaned into my chest. "My stomach's still a little queasy, but I'll be fine."

  Jesus, if she was this sick—and was she really puking all day or was she exaggerating?—maybe I needed to postpone my plans until she was feeling a little better. But then again, I heard my mom's words in my head: trust me, you won't be sorry.

  I guessed this was just one of those times in my life where I was going to have to trust my mother. Shit. That didn't feel too good.

  Might as well get on with it before those cold feet snuck up on me again.

  "Hey, I know you've been feeling shitty lately, but do you think you're up for a ride tonight? I gotta show you something."

  She eyed me carefully, like she was trying to figure me out. If she just gave me an hour or so...

  "Well, I was gonna make dinner and—"

  Ah. That probably wasn't a good idea, especially if she was already sick. Didn't need
to add her cooking into the mix, too.

  "Let me take you out," I suggested, careful to keep my tone as far away from critical as possible. "We're gonna have to make a stop first, but I'll take you wherever you wanna go. You pick, I'll pay."

  Her eyes narrowed. "You're just trying to get out of eating my spaghetti, aren't you?"

  She was planning on making spaghetti? I threw up a little in my mouth just thinking about it.

  "Uh," I winced a little and she buried her face in my chest, her whole body shaking with laughter. "Maybe?"

  "Since it's a special occasion and all, I think maybe we should go out."

  Yeah, definitely dodged a bullet there.

  "But," she went on, chewing on her bottom lip a little as spoke. "I have to talk to you about something first though."

  I grinned down at her, but that quickly faded away when I found careful, hesitant blue eyes staring back up at me.

  "Okay, well, us talking is kinda the point of going for that ride, Iz. Can we wait to have that talk until we get there?"

  I had no idea what was up with her because something clearly was, but I needed to get her on my bike and where I needed her to be before anything else happened. Waiting a month was long enough.

  "Um, okay. But do you think maybe we could take the truck instead of your bike? You know, with..."

  Right. If she'd really been puking all day, taking my bike was probably a bad choice anyway. Whatever got her on the road with me.

  "Yeah, that's no problem. Why don't you get that sweet ass out of bed so we can get on the road, huh?"

  When she just laughed and smacked me on the chest again, all my worries and all the things making me trip up just slipped away.

  She was it and I'd be a damned idiot if I did anything but spend the rest of my life proving it to her.

  . . .

  "Um, Caleb," Isabelle's voice floated through the silence in the cab. "What are you doing?"