“Go,” she urged with a soft smile. “Seriously, I am not going to be mad at you for going. They need you there?”
“It’d be good,” I said at the same time Nova said, “Fuck yeah.”
Cress laughed. “Of course, they need you and your big brain. Get out of here and be safe.”
“Get gone,” Tayline ordered, popping up behind Cress like the little sprite she was, puckish and fuckin’ adorable. “I got your girl. We’ll go for some drinks after it’s all said and one.”
“Make it tequila,” I said with a slight sneer because my girl got loose and heated on the Mexican booze.
“Done.”
Zeus stepped forward to squeeze my woman’s shoulder and bend low to look her in the eyes. “Sorry to go, Cress. Real proud of you, ya know? Takes a big set’a balls to start your own business, but if anyone can make it succeed, it’s you.”
Cress blossomed under his praise. Not afraid to say it, the friendship between my Old Lady and my dad moved me. Different as oil and vinegar, but they got each other and respected each other in a way I didn’t even fully understand. It hurt too, though, watchin’ Cress with him sometimes, eatin’ up the almost paternal affection because her own parents had abandoned her over her choice to be with me. It stung I’d caused that deficiency and simultaneously felt fuckin’ great I had the kinda family that could more than fill the gap.
“We’ll celebrate this and the engagement proper with a party at the clubhouse, yeah? Wanna toast to the fact we’re addin’ another kickass female to the Garro name.”
Cress beamed. “That’d be good.”
Z nodded, patted her shoulder, then turned to stalk off over to Lou and haul her––mid-conversation with EBA’s librarian––into his arms to kiss her thoroughly goodbye.
“One last thing,” I told Cress even though the rest of the brothers had rolled out and were already straddlin’ their bikes out front.
She frowned as I tugged her hand and led her to the couches so I could hop up on the coffee table and lift her up there with me. She made an adorable noise in the back of her throat, but let me haul her up and pull her close as everyone went silent.
“Just wanna say one thing before I jet here, but it’s important so I’m glad you’re listenin’. This woman’s been my woman since the day I clapped eyes on her, but two days ago, she agreed to be my wife. So, cheers to her fulfillin’ her dream of opening a bookstore, and cheers to me for fulfillin’ my dream of gettin’ her to marry me.”
Then before anyone could say anythin’, I kissed her.
Nothin’ romantic like a dip or some shit.
No.
I was a biker, and this wasn’t an announcement.
This was a claimin’.
So as people started to shout and clap in congratulations, I picked her up, one hand to her sweet ass, the other at the back of her neck to hold her still while I plundered the sweetest mouth I’d ever kissed. And just as she always did, she softened into me by degrees until everyone else was forgotten and the only two beings in the entire world for her were us.
When I pulled away, her eyes stayed closed, flutterin’ like in a dream. I couldn’t resist brushin’ my lips against her red, kiss-bruised mouth until she came back around from her daze. Her eyes flashed opened, sass flooding right back in, and she asked, voice wry, “Was the alpha display entirely necessary?”
“Most things worth havin’ aren’t.” I grinned nice and easy as I let her slip through my hands, slidin’ down my body so I could feel every inch of those soft curves against the hard planes of mine. “And trust me, this was worthier than most.”
“Heathen,” she teased, but she was happy.
It shone in those wide brown eyes, stretched that sinful mouth into a wide smile, and just fuckin’ glowed from her, makin’ her even prettier than she already was.
“Your heathen. Your man. Soon to be your husband. Better get used to it, babe,” I said with a wink as I jumped back off the table and helped her down. After watching her straighten that fine little pencil skirt over the sweet curve of her ass, I gave it a slap as I turned to walk away. “Any fucker hits on you again, you tell ’em just how heathen your man can get.”
* * *
* * *
It was a shitshow.
Cops fuckin’ swarmed the treed hill like ants, cop cars and SUVs parked at all angles, throwing lights across the grass gone gold with the sudden spring heat.
It was a fuckuva lotta fanfare for what looked like a tiny shack on an isolated track of wilderness, but someone, and I’d fuckin’ find out whoever it was, had tipped off the corrupted coppers to our grow-op here, and they were goin’ over it with a fine-tooth comb.