Epilogue

KYLE

TWO MONTHS LATER

Climbingoff the back of Rider's bike, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I look up at him. He's already off the bike, facing me, his head dipped as he watches me. I move toward him and place my hand on the center of his chest.

"You having a good birthday, baby?" he asks.

I give him a smile. I can't help but think about the day I've had. We had amazing sex this morning, went out for some breakfast. Then he took me on a ride through the back country roads until we ended up at a winery.

The winery was gorgeous, the food amazing, and the wine was some of the best I've ever tasted. I honestly didn't know that Rider had all of this in him. Year thirty-one is going to be the best one yet if this day is any indication.

Although, I truly believe that any year with Rider is better than a year without him, no matter what. He shifts his face closer to mine, his lips brushing my own. I let out a sigh against his mouth before I answer him.

"It's the best birthday I've ever had," I say. "Hands down."

He smiles against my lips, then takes a step backward, wrapping his fingers around mine and taking my hand before he begins walking straight for the door to the clubhouse—our home.

In the two months I've lived in the building, I've seen a lot of things, but I would have to say that the best part of it all is getting to know all the people Rider loves.

Sure, there is the not-so-glamourous side of the clubwhore situation, but even them, I don't mind so much. I've actually become friendly with Vixen and Firecracker. They're the head girls and are really nice.

Something that I never imagined possible, women who give themselves to be used for sex being nice, but maybe it's because of my own past as a one-time stripper or my friendship with Bren that makes it possible for me to see the other side of things.

Or maybe it's just because your job, your lifestyle, doesn't make you nice or mean. It's who you are as a person. They're just nice people. Just like Bren and the girls at Sal's. Just like Rider and his brothers. None of which are doing anything legal, and yet, they are some of the gentlest men I've ever come across in my life.

This is a world that I never imagined being part of, but now, I can't imagine not being part of it all. I love it here. I love them. And most importantly, I love Rider. So, it's needless to say that I am looking forward, with excitement, to this new year, and the next, and the next, and then the next fifty.

The door to the bar opens, and I'm not sure what I expect, but it isn't the entire room full of faces that I recognize shouting, "Happy Birthday" to me. I stand stock-still for a moment, unsure that this is truly happening, and to me, then I turn to look up at Rider.

He's got the biggest smile on his face, his eyes searching mine, and then he clears his throat. "Happy Birthday, baby."

Tears instantly stream down my face at his words. This isn't a milestone. I didn't think I would have anything like this. I don't quite understand what's happening. His arm slides around my waist before he tugs me against his chest.

"I fuckin' love you, Kyle. I know you never had a birthday party, so here you go. Happy Birthday."

My tears do not stop, they do not slow, they are in a steady stream rolling down my cheeks. I open my mouth to tell him thank you, but his lips touch mine, and his tongue slides inside, swirling and tasting me before he takes a step backward and releases me.

In the next breath, I'm surrounded by all my friends. Bren and a couple of the girls from the club, plus Shawn and Ryan. Vixen and Firecracker are also hanging in the back, careful not to get too close, but when my eyes meet theirs, they smile and give me a small wave.

Dennis stands a few feet behind Bren, his eyes focused on her, and I can't help but smile at the sight of him here. They're new, he and Bren, but I know he's on cloud nine right now.

The girls don't say anything to me, but what they do is start singing, and then the whole room erupts into the birthday song as the girls who are surrounding me part and show me the table behind them.

It's not just any table.

It's the dessert table of all dessert tables.

And in the center is a gorgeous three-tiered cake. It's covered in beautiful pastel yellow and pink buttercream icing rosettes.

Not an inch of the cake is without a thick layer of rosette frosting, and on top, there is a glittery black topper that has Happy Birthday written in cursive and two hot pink candles—a three and a one, which are lit and burning.

I can't even look at the other desserts that are displayed gorgeously everywhere, because the cake is clearly the centerpiece and absolutely stunning in a million different ways. It's just beautiful.

I've never had a cake like this before, never thought I would. I'm frozen in front of it, unsure of what to do and unable to even move. That is, until I hear Shawn tell me to make a wish and blow out the candles.

Leaning forward slightly, I close my eyes and make a wish as I blow out the candles. It's a wish to top all wishes, but I decide to go big, considering I'm already living a fantasy that I couldn't have ever even dreamed of a year ago.

When I open my eyes, everyone is clapping, and I look over to Ryan, who has her hands covering her mouth as her eyes shimmer with wetness as she stares at me. I don't understand what's happening.

Then I look beside me, down on the floor, and I see it.

Rider is on one knee, and he's holding out a blue box with a diamond ring nestled inside of it. I gasp at the sight, my knees growing weak and about to buckle beneath me.

"Happy Birthday, Kyle. I can't imagine spending another one without you. Marry me."

Except it's not a question. It's a statement. Marry him. And I will. I do. Always.

"Yes," I whisper. "Yes a million times."

Rider takes the ring from the box, tossing said box onto the floor as I hold out my left hand. I'm trembling as he slips the ring on my finger, then he stands and wraps his arms around me, his lips slamming against mine in a bruising, owning, perfect kiss.

When the room erupts into cheers and applause, he's swept away to the bar and my hand is taken by Bren.

"Oh my God, it's massive," she cries.

The ring is just that. It's stunning and beautiful. It's an Aquaprase, a stunning green, pink, purple gemstone, with diamonds surrounding it and along the sides.

I've never seen a stone like it before in person. The only reason I know what it is, is because I saw it online a couple of months ago and showed it to Rider.

He remembered how much I liked it, and he bought it for me.

A fresh wave of tears flows down my cheeks. He truly thought about me, about what I would want, and he delivered. This is going to be my husband. This man is my future, and I'm right there with him when he said that he can't imagine another birthday without me. Not ever again.

I never want to be without him.

Rider Cruz is my everything.

GNAW

ONE MONTH LATER

Movingmy fingers on my iPad, I finish the scheduling. There are a lot of changes going on within the club, with the distribution and everything that entails, and it's up to me to ensure that everyone goes where they need to go and that all orders are fulfilled.

"You got this shit handled?" Atomic asks, groaning as he sinks down next to me on the sofa in the bar.

Turning my head, I look over at him. "I got what I needed handled, I think."

"You think?" he asks.

My lips twitch into a smirk. "We're running the trucks and merch from Longview to Oklahoma City. From there, a company is picking up what needs to be delivered to the actual distribution center, and the other shit is getting picked up by the club up there."

"We can trust it all?" Atomic asks.

I almost laugh. But I don't. "We can trust it all as much as we can trust the crews in Louisiana."

"It's a bit farther of a drive," he states the obvious.

It's actually four hours longer on a light traffic day, but that's neither here nor there. What he wants to know is if the men will be safe against other clubs, against groups like the Southern Mafia, and against the government.

Because it's dangerous. If the feds get ahold of one of those trucks, it means prison time, especially over state lines. So, being able to at least have a semblance of trust with who we're delivering shit to is a big fucking deal.

A huge fucking deal.

"It's a drive, and it's going to take some scheduling with the rest of our shit, but I think this is the best option. It keeps us away from Louisiana, but also, I think it's going to be more diversifying."

Atomic nods a few times, then clears his throat. "You've done some things for this club that I didn't think were possible. I'm proud of you, Gnaw. Real fucking proud."

"This feels like a father-son moment, but you're only ten years older than me," I say with a chuckle.

"It is. I know we're close to the same age, but as your president, I'm telling you that you've done some badass shit for this club. I'm proud of you, of that."

Before I can even thank him, he stands and walks away, heading toward the bar. I let out a sigh and smirk at the iPad. The next round of shipments is being led by me. I wouldn't normally do this, none of the officers would, but with the longer route, it's all hands on deck.

Kyle makes her way toward me. I watch as she moves across the bar. Setting my iPad down, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as she climbs onto my lap, straddling me. I don't know what's gotten into her, but I'm not really one to question it either.

Her left hand rests against the center of my chest. Her other wraps around the side of my neck. Her gaze is focused on mine, and I reach for her left hand, lifting it from my chest and bringing it to my lips.

Kissing the stone that I placed on her finger, I ask her a question. "When do we do this thing?"

She smiles, then she leans forward and touches her lips to my own. "The sooner, the better," she breathes against my mouth. I swallow her breath, wanting every single part of her to become part of me.

It's the middle of the day, people walking in and out of the bar, but I want to fuck her right here. I need to be inside of her. I don't even know if it's healthy, what we have. I've never craved someone the way I crave this woman.

I want her twenty-four hours a day, every single day.

I also don't care if it's healthy, because I'm not willing to change anything, not a damn thing about us. But right now, I know why she's sitting on me this way, why she's got her lips against mine, and why her breathing has turned to panting.

"What do you want, baby?" I ask.

I'm not going to let her get away with not asking me for it. I want to hear it. I always want to hear it. She hums, her breath washing over me. My cock twitches against the zipper of my jeans, begging to be released.

"You, Rider. Always you," she exhales.

"You want to fuck me right here in the middle of the bar?"

She leans back slightly, her eyes wild as she watches me. I can tell she doesn't want that, plus I know her well enough to know she would not want that. She'd be embarrassed as fuck if anyone saw us.

"Rider," she breathes.

"You okay?" I ask.

She looks down at her hand on my chest, then lifts her gaze to meet mine before she speaks. "I need to feel you. I can't explain it, but I saw you across the bar, working, and the sensation just rolled through me. I have to have you."

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I stand from the sofa. Carrying my iPad in one hand and her body with the other, I walk us toward our bedroom. It's been months. I should probably find us another place, but I like this too much. Maybe once we start having kids. Maybe.

Once we're in my room, I toss the iPad on the dresser and turn her, pressing her back against the closed door. My mouth is on hers. I devour her. Only when I need to breathe do I lift my lips and look into her eyes.

"Marry me as soon as possible," I demand. "Three days."

I already looked up how long you have to wait between applying for a marriage license and getting married in the state of Texas, and it's seventy-two hours. I'm fucking ready and serious to do this thing.

"I'm pregnant, Rider."

The words seem to shock the shit out of her the same way they do me. We stare at one another wide-eyed, and for a moment, there is complete silence. Without a single word, I slam my mouth against hers.

I can't believe this is real. I kiss her hard, trying to express my excitement, and when I lift my head, I spin her around before walking us over to the bed. I sink down on the edge with her legs still wrapped tightly around my waist.

I cup her cheeks and look into her eyes. "You're for real," I murmur.

She nods her head. "Shawn and Ryan brought a test for me. But I didn't tell anyone the results. You're the first. I can't believe it happened. That it's real."

"I'm so fucking happy, baby."

And I am. We talked about kids after Ryan had Millie, but I didn't think it would happen like this. So fast. And as scared as I am about the whole process, excitement trumps fear. It always will.

Kyle leans forward and touches her mouth against mine just as a knock sounds on the door. I think about ignoring it, but it's the middle of the day, and I'm sure there's a good reason for this shit. Turning my head, I call out for whoever it is to come in.

The door swings open, and Brew stands in the doorway, his eyes wild as they connect with mine. I start to ask him what's wrong when he jerks his chin. His next words are ones that I've been fucking dreading ever hearing, words that I thought I'd protected the club against.

"Clink was picked up. Caught transporting drugs over the state line. Fuckers were waiting for him."

Shit.

Kyle gasps, but I don't say anything. I can't. This is my fault. I didn't cover enough bases. Fucking fuck.

Kyle climbs off my lap, my hard-on completely vanishes, and I stand. Making my way toward Brew, I stop and turn to look over my shoulder at Kyle. I give her a small smile and tip my head toward the door.

She knows what's up, knows that I'm still not ready for her to be out of my sight—she follows behind us.

This is going to be a long fucking day. I cannot believe that this happened. This means that we start from scratch, and I have a feeling the Southern Mafia, as quiet as they've been, are the ones who have orchestrated this.

Loner isn't going to just let us lock his dumb ass in a refrigerated truck for days, kill his brother, and get away with it. I knew there would be retaliation. I just didn't know when or how.

Now I do.

That treaty is bullshit, and the war is on.

And fuck him for ruining my moment with Kyle. Loner is going to pay for that, too. He's going to pay for it all. We should have never agreed to that treaty. It wasn't ever going to be followed. Atomic and Nash both thought it was the right thing to do, but here we are, three months later, and now one of our men is going to be put away.

Brew stops and turns to me, his gaze finding mine before he speaks. "Nobody had any way to know," he murmurs.

The door to the clubhouse flies open, and my breath hitches at the sight in front of me. As if we need any more fucking drama. Then Brew's entire body jerks at the sight of the woman standing in the threshold.

Spencer Maddison.

Clink's little sister doesn't appear to be so little anymore.

"You assholes got my brother thrown in jail," she snaps.

Brew growls, then marches toward her. Turning to Kyle, I shake my head. I reach out and wrap my fingers around the side of her throat. "I'll be in the conference room. I'll come out as soon as I can. Tomorrow morning, we go for our marriage license."

"We don't have to," Kyle whispers.

I snort. "Yeah, baby. We do. Because I'm not wasting another fucking second without you as my wife. I fucking love you, Kyle. Every single piece of you."

She cups my cheeks before she rises to her tiptoes and touches her lips to mine.

"I love every piece of you, too, Rider Cruz."

And that is that.

She kisses me, I kiss her, and I know that this is my forever.

She is mine. I am hers. And together, we're going to make this life of ours absolutely perfect, no matter what fires are burning around us. It's me and Kyle—for a fucking lifetime.

And I can't wait.