Chapter 19

Ella

The kids and I hit the road mid-morning on Saturday. As I backed out of my garage and glanced at my dashboard display, I realized that Dante had filled my gas tank yesterday as well. I smiled, touched that he had taken care of even that detail to make my drive easier.

We had traded a few texts early this morning, and I'd made him promise to send me pictures of the ceremony. Abby had told me about having her original wedding dress modified for the ceremony, and it sounded lovely. I couldn't wait to see it.

With the perpetual road construction that practically defined Indiana's highways during the summer months, it took us a little longer than I'd planned to make it to Evansville. My aunt and uncle had moved to the city along the Ohio River when Kim was eleven and I was ten. They had both joined the faculty of the University of Southern Indiana – Uncle Neil in the engineering department, while Aunt Diane taught art history. Kim and I had both been devastated to have a three-hour distance between us, but they had made frequent trips back to Indianapolis to visit. It had helped that Kim had spent summers staying with Gran, Gramps and me while her folks traveled the country in an old RV.

It was a relief when we arrived at their house, just a few miles from the USI campus. Kim was out the door and running down the steps of her parents' front porch before I even got the ignition turned off. She had made the drive from Chicago two days ago and planned to drive back tomorrow.

Mia and Hunter laughed as she pulled them both into huge hugs, as if it had been years since she'd seen them, rather than only three months. She'd visited us shortly after we'd moved in next door to Pop, wanting to see the new place. My aunt and uncle followed at a more sedate pace, greeting us with hugs of their own. It was always bittersweet when I spent time with my aunt. She looked so much like her mother – my Gran – and it both comforted me and made me feel her loss even more. Even her mannerisms were much the same. The only thing missing was the slight trace of the English accent that Gran had never quite managed to lose despite her decades of living in the US.

Kim grabbed me next and pulled me into a hug, while telling me that it was about damned time I got here.

"The folks are driving me bat-shit crazy about my love life. You'd better be nice to me today, or I'll tell them about the sexy biker you have sniffing around you."

My eyes widened, then narrowed in warning as I pulled back to glare at her. "Don't you dare, unless you want me to tell them that you were the one who painted a giant dick on your principal's office window when you were in high school."

The guy had sent her home the week before for wearing a shirt that he deemed too tight, telling her that " her figure was a distraction to the boys in class ", without doing a thing to the gaggle of guys who followed her around all day making lewd comments. Yeah, he was a giant dick, hence the artwork she'd left for him, which apparently included a saggy scrotum and bushy pubes. I was sorry I hadn't been able to see it for myself.

She gasped, then whispered fiercely. "You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?"

"I learned from the best," I retorted with a pat to her cheek, causing her to throw back her head and laugh.

"God, I've missed you, and I can't wait to hear the latest about your leather-clad loverboy. I want all the dirty details, too."

She and I ended up going over to the small event center for a couple of hours to put the finishing touches on the decorations for the party. Kim had hired the center's party planner, who did a fabulous job coordinating and overseeing everything, so there wasn't much left for us to do. We mostly used the time to talk about Dante, and by the time I finished telling her about our date last night, she was swooning.

"Damn, El, you need to snap that man up and lock him down." I laughed at her emphatic command. "I mean it. He's sexy, romantic, confident, sexy –"

"You said sexy already," I pointed out as I shifted one of the centerpieces so that it was right in the middle of the table.

Kim winked as she told me, "Based on how you described him, it bears repeating." She wasn't wrong.

Dante proved that when he texted me shortly after we got back to her parents' house to change for the party. He included a selfie showing him dressed for the wedding, and Christ on a cracker, the man was hot. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror which appeared to be attached to his closet door, and I couldn't help the smile that crossed my face as I studied every detail.

He was dressed in black slacks and a silvery-gray, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, similar to the red one he'd worn last night. It looked fantastic against his tanned skin, and I loved the tattoo that peaked out from the edge of his sleeve. He had traded the boots he typically wore for a pair of black dress shoes and had a fancy-looking silver watch strapped around his left wrist. His dark hair was slicked back, and his beard looked freshly trimmed. He posed with a wicked smirk on his face, as if he knew what the sight of him would do to me.

Me: You're really making me wish I were there. You look very handsome.

Dante: Thank you, sugar, and I definitely wish you were here.

Once I was dressed and ready to go, I snapped a selfie of my own and sent it to him. I had chosen a sleeveless, royal blue wraparound dress that hit just above the knee. The deep V-neck showed off a bit more cleavage than normal for me, and the way the fabric wrapped at my waist made me look like I had more of an hourglass figure than I actually had. I'd paired it with some strappy, black sandals and left my hair down to fall in soft waves around my shoulders.

I knew the wedding would be starting in about twenty minutes, so I wasn't sure if he would have his phone turned off yet or not. I had my answer when he responded within seconds.

Dante: You take my breath away. I can't wait to see you in that dress and those fuck-me heels in person. Can you wear this outfit when I take you to dinner Wednesday night?

I knew I should probably take exception to his high-handed way of telling me rather than asking me for a date, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

Me: I can do that, as long as we don't take your bike that night.

Dante: No, that's definitely not safe for you to ride in. That reminds me, make sure you wear jeans tomorrow, and boots or at least tennis shoes. No sandals or anything that could slip off. Lots of sunscreen, too. I don't want you to burn your pretty skin. I've already arranged to borrow Abby's helmet for you to use.

I had noticed that he didn't wear a helmet himself and was touched that he'd thought of that. I'd been a little nervous at the idea of riding without one. I sent a quick text thanking him, and he responded that they were getting ready to take their seats for the ceremony, so I tucked my phone in my purse and made my way downstairs to join the rest of my family. We need to leave soon to get to the event center anyway.

The next few hours were spent mingling with the friends, neighbors, and former colleagues who had come to help my aunt and uncle celebrate. I knew Mia and Hunter were probably bored to tears, but I was proud of them for not letting it show. They were, by far, the youngest people there. Kim sat with us during the sit-down meal, which was surprisingly good for catered fare. She kept us entertained with tales of her adventures as a personal shopper and stylist for some of Chicago's elite. I didn't know how she put up with such ridiculous snobs. Their sense of entitlement was astounding.

"So, after spending months tracking down the perfect, one-of-a-kind ruby red gown for her, getting it tailored to fit her like a glove, finding the perfect shoes, bag, and jewelry, I thought the job was finally done. Then, that empty-headed trophy wife had the nerve to call me at four in the morning the day of the gala to tell me that her psychic advisor told her that she should wear stark white that night instead, so that she could emotionally connect to the new white Persian cat she'd just gotten the day before. I wanted to reach through the phone and slap the bitch and then ask her psychic if she saw that coming." Kim savagely speared a piece of her filet and popped it into her mouth, chewing angrily as she recounted the story of dealing with one of her top clients.

"What did you do?" Mia asked, completely enthralled by Kim's stories of how the rich and glamorous live.

Kim shrugged. "I told her that I'd heard her husband's ex-wife might be wearing white, and casually mentioned that I usually avoid stark white because it isn't slimming, and that the red would really make her stand out, especially in photos. She took about two seconds to decide to stick with the red dress."

She picked up her glass of wine and drained the last of it, then set the empty glass down with a huff. "Can you imagine taking fashion advice from a psychic who dresses like the love child of Janis Joplin and Captain Jack Sparrow? She would have better luck getting advice from her cat."

One of the catering staff immediately stepped forward to refill her wine glass, then offered to top mine off.

"No, thank you. I'm driving tonight," I replied. I could have had a second glass, then had Hunter drive us home, but I didn't want him driving on unfamiliar roads at night, especially with orange safety barrels blocking half of the roadway for miles on end.

The dessert bar was announced moments later, and Hunter and Mia both stood and hurried over to check out the selections. My phone chimed several times, and I pulled it from my purse to see a string of texts from Dante. I smiled as I looked at the photos he'd sent. The one of Rome and Abby kissing, with a beaming Pop standing behind them brought a tear to my eye. I was so happy that they'd worked things out.

There was a group photo of the happy couple, their kids, Dante, and an older couple I assumed to be Abby's parents, followed by a photo of the Morgan men on their own. Rome stood in the middle, flanked by Pop and Dante, with Jagger at Dante's side, and Lucky standing next to Pop. Ethan stood in front of his dad, with Rome's hands on his shoulders. They all looked so handsome, and Ethan looked so grown up. I wasn't used to seeing the men dressed in anything other than jeans, T-shirts, and their ever-present leather cuts. Looking at them in their wedding finery, I wasn't sure which look I preferred.

There was another photo with Abby, a woman I recognized as her sister Amelia, and Molly, who was holding Everly. The little one looked adorable in a frilly pale green dress the same color as the one Amelia was wearing.

The final photo was a candid photo of Rome with his arms around Abby, who was looking at something off-camera. She was radiant, and I could almost feel the happiness emanating from her. What really captured my attention, though, was the expression on Rome's face as he looked down at his wife as if she were the other half of his soul, and he couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have her in his arms. Knowing the struggle and heartbreak they'd been through to get back to this point, I knew that was probably exactly what he'd been thinking in that moment. I surreptitiously wiped away another tear, then jumped in surprise as Kim suddenly leaned over my shoulder to peer at my phone's screen.

"Aw, they make a beautiful couple, El. Do you have any pics of your biker hottie on there?" I glanced over at the dessert bar to see that Hunter and Mia were still occupied, then swiped back to the selfie Dante had sent.

"Hot damn, woman. How could you look at this man and say no to his dick?" I rolled my eyes, then snatched my phone back from her and tucked it back in my purse. I flushed slightly as I caught the judgmental stare of the woman passing by our table, and remembered she was married to one of Uncle Neil's former colleagues. By the pinched look on her face, she often said no to her husband's dick, if she even remembered he had one at all. I waited until she was out of earshot before responding.

"I didn't say no to his dick last night. He didn't offer it, remember? He wants to take things slow." I wasn't proud of the whine I could hear in my tone. I sounded like a seven-year-old girl being deprived of her favorite ice cream cone.

"Because he wants to prove he's serious about you, right?" At my nod, Kim nudged my shoulder and gave me a reproving look. "And does he still need to prove that, or do you believe him?"

"Yes, I believe him," I told her in exasperation. I'd told her that earlier today when we discussed our date last night.

"So, why didn't you tell him that, dumbass?"

I didn't really have an answer for that. In truth, I'd been caught off guard by his statement last night. The idea that he would do something so out of character was sweet and endearing, and I'd liked the feeling of being romanced. That was until I found myself alone in my bed last night, my body hungry for his touch to the point that I'd had to pull out my handy-dandy silicone friend to get some relief.

By the time I pulled into my driveway hours later, I'd made up my mind. I was going to be riding more than just Dante's bike tomorrow.