Keeping Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation 2)

I sigh. We finally got the closing done and the keys to our new home and yet, this bullshit is hanging over it all.

We get out of the truck, with Daisy’s happy cry, and unload the shit we brought with us. Jasmine ordered up a fuck-load of furniture and had it delivered yesterday, so there really wasn’t much more than personal belongings for us to bring. Jasmine had a suitcase full and a few things she had collected, but next week—if we’re not at war—we are going back to Kentucky to finish packing up the shit that she has at her parent’s home.

Which should be loads of fun.

We go to the door and I unlock it, my daughter running through immediately

“I’m going to my room!” she cries.

Jasmine starts to follow her in but I grab her, letting my crap fall and picking her up in my arms.

“What are you doing?” she asks. She’s not hostile to me, but it’s clear she’s not fully forgiven me yet. She’s not running away either, though and that shouldn’t be overlooked.

“Carrying you over the threshold, baby.”

“We’re not married,” she points out and she sounds more than a little sad over that fact. I bend down and kiss her gently.

“It’s going to happen,” I respond, and it will. It’s just that we both decided to wait until after the mess between my club and the Savage Brothers is done. We’d rather not have people here at each other’s throats when we’re celebrating.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mutters, proving my girl is great at holding a grudge.

“But you love me,” I remind her.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” she admits, her face still betraying her sadness.

“I love you, Red. I did when I didn’t even believe in the emotion. I want us to raise Daisy and our other children in this home. I want you by my side for the rest of my life as my old lady, as my wife. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Ford hates my father’s club and Uncle Dragon despises him,” she points out and that’s when I know that the club war is bothering her more than the shit with Gabby, Dom, Thomas and Lyla.”

“It will be okay,” I promise her, and I don’t know how, but I know that it will. I will bust my ass to give that to her.

“But your club…”

“If it’s not worked out, we’ll fucking move to Kentucky.”

“You’d give up your club?” she asks, completely shocked.

“I don’t think it will come to that, but if Ford chooses to hold onto a vendetta over this, when I think Thomas plans on being a man and being here for his child, then I will have to.”

“But—”

“Baby, I don’t want to follow a man who would lead his club to war over something like this if the guy is trying to do the right thing.”

“He can’t be with Lyla if he’s in love with Gabby, Luke. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone,” she says as we walk through the door.

I put her down, letting her slide to the floor, while keeping her in my arms.

“You can support your child and not be attached to the mother, Red. People do it every day.

“Speaking of….” She stops talking, her cheeks flushing with color.

“Speaking of what, baby?” I ask, tenderly, knowing it’s something important to her.

“Well, you said you wanted me to adopt Daisy,” she says nervously.

“I do,” I respond. “I absolutely do.”

“What if her mother doesn’t want that? I mean, I know she gave you custody and all… but—”

“Carla got paid forty-grand to even have Daisy. She was going to do away with my child. I paid her money and kept her up and the minute Daisy was born, I was the only parent she ever knew. That’s the way I wanted it, that’s the way Carla wanted it and most of all that’s what was best for Daisy.”

“Where is Carla now?”

“Doing what she does best, thinking of herself, partying and fucking. It’s none of my concern now, Red, other than you know that if you want to be Daisy’s mother, you can be.”

“And that’s what you want?”

“I want it more than anything,” I answer honestly.

“Whatcha’ want Daddy? Can I have a picnic in my new room?” Daisy comes running in to ask, with timing only a small child can master.

“No food in your room, munchkin,” I laugh, letting go of Daisy to squat down to be more on eye level with my daughter.

“Aw man…” she mutters, instantly pouting.

“How would you feel if Jasmine became your mom, Daisy?”

“My mom? Like my friend Ty? He has a mom. I’ve never had one of those.”

“Do you want one?” Jasmine asks, bending down to join us.

“Would I call you mommy?” she asks, studying Jasmine.

“Only if you wanted to. If not then, that’s fine too. I like how you call me Jazz-min. I want you to call me whatever you want, Daisy. I love you.”