Page 84 of Playboy’s Purgatory

I’m grateful as fuck that I had this room soundproofed. Ryker suggested it since he was the one looking at plans with me back then, when the construction company was smaller.

Recently, he’s been helping me finalize the plans for my house on the compound. I mentioned it a while ago in church, but schedules are what they are. We don’t prioritize club builds over other clients unless it’s for one of the club businesses.

As I look down at Lara, I wonder if she’ll help me finalize a few details in the house. I’ve been looking at the plans late at night, nights when I can’t see her especially, and can picture them filling the space with love.

I want that.

I want my girls at home with me.

I’m just not sure Lara is ready to hear that part of my redemption arc.

My hand keeps moving and she seems to snuggle into me. Her forehead smooths out before she looks up at me. She studies me for a long time, as if she’s weighing me.

Hopefully, I don’t come up quite as short as I used to.

“You have a question,” she accuses me.

She’s not fucking wrong.

I’ve had one question gnawing at me for a while. It’s not like she hasn’t answered it, but I don’t think I fully understand. I want to.

“Knowing what I know now, seeing Lola,” she stiffens in my arms at the name, and I try not to grimace because I get it, “as she is now, why move here?”

Lara allows herself to relax fully against me again. She stares at the ink on my arm, her fingers creating a pattern no one else sees.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to keep your distance?” I gently prod her, not because I don’t think she’ll answer, but because I want her to understand I don’t ask from a place of judgement, just confusion.

“It’s not like I’ve spent the last ten years following Lola around,” she starts, but her tone isn’t defensive. “It was never like that. She moved around too much for me to even consider it. Then she’d breeze back into our lives, if you think a breeze and a tornado are the same thing.” Her eyes flash with annoyance and frustration. “We had a few solid years where she was just gone. I would keep tabs on her as much as I could. The last place she moved before here, she was there for a pretty long stretch. It made me wonder if she had started to find some sort of balance.”

I watch her face carefully and she glances up at me.

“I didn’t think it was enough to let go of everything. It’s not like I had enough information anyway, since I have no idea what she was doing,” she explains with a shrug.

“Then she moved here?”

Lara’s expression turns thoughtful. “Then she moved here. I looked into the town, and it seemed like a sweet place.”

“Small,” I counter.

She doesn’t disagree. “The more I started looking,” she keeps going, “especially at cost of living and the needs of the town, I knew it might be the right place to open the bakery I always wanted to open. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen. Here, it was a possibility.”

“But the risk of being so close to Lola?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “Risk?” She lets out a long sigh. “I suppose it was a risk considering her past behavior, but Vanessa started asking different questions about Lola. I started to wonder if I had prevented Lola from having a real chance to be a mother by keeping so much distance. Was the distance doing more harm than good? Was I even qualified to make that kind of decision?”

“I think that just means you’re the exact right mom for Vanessa,” my voice is low as I watch her get all worked up over all the questions she was mulling over.

I wish she could see herself like I see her. She’d be in awe too.

But she doesn’t.

I’ll keep trying to show her.

“Maybe,” she offers though the look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t believe it. “I just knew if I took away the chance of Vanessa knowing her birth mother that she might regret it. That was the bigger risk.”

I kiss her forehead and she smiles.

“When we came to see it in person, it felt good and I decided to take a chance.” She shrugs and looks away, her fingers still making shapes on my arm. “There really hasn’t been a lot of Lola interaction, since she’s at the clubhouse and I have the bakery. The fact that I’m uncomfortable around her, especially since figuring out her role,” she clears her throat and blushes softly, “in the club is my problem. It’s not Vanessa’s problem and it’s not even Lola’s problem. I’m not judging her for it. Her behavior is another thing entirely.”