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He glanced back at me. I gestured to Connie and Nathan by the buffet, wide-eyed and uncertain. Vlad had Wylie balanced on his shoulders, but he lowered Wylie down to the floor now. Resting his hands on Wylie's shoulders protectively.

“Get him out of here,” Neil barked.

Credence yanked Welch out of the room. Blackbeard, Gatling, and Tex followed after him. Neil cupped my face in his hands and kissed my forehead, folding me into his arms.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

After a pause, Connie spoke.

“I didn’t see anything.”

Nathan shook his head.

“I didn’t see anything either. Let’s get this wedding started.”

As the evening wore on and the alcohol flowed, the rowdiness grew to a raucous crescendo. It felt strange, enjoying myself, even though I knew what Neil would do to Welch when the party was over. But that was part of being married to a biker.

I had to steal these happy moments while I could. There was no telling when club business would call Neil away. I wasted years looking toward a future that never came. Fretting about it.

I needed to live for the moment now. With this man by my side, the weight of his arm draped around my shoulders.

“Where’s the kid?” Neil bellowed.

Baby Doll elbowed Crash. He stepped forward, shoulders hunched, cheeks flushed. Probably a little drunk.

“My wife has a gift for you,” Neil added.

Crash’s gaze flicked to me with a spark of confusion. I rose from my chair and passed him a large flat box.

“Try not to let Neil get under your skin,” I said. “He has a soft spot for you. Even though he won’t admit it yet.”

I returned to my seat next to Neil, cuddling under his arm again. He kissed my temple, resting his large, warm palm on my hip.

Crash pried the lid off the box and pushed the cloud of tissue paper aside.

“Holy shit, no way.”

He pulled a cut out, with a Prospect patch stitched into the back, and another one on his chest. Neil held up his empty bottle of beer.

“I need a refill, Prospect,” he called. “If you want to be a Blackjack, you better make it an ice-cold one.”

A cheer went up around the room, accompanied by applause, whistles and howls. Crash slid his cut on, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll get right on that, Prez.”

I yawned as I stumbled into the house. It was nearly midnight, and I was tipsy from drinking so much at the clubhouse. Neil fumbled for the light switch, but I caught his wrist, and pulled his arm around me instead.

“Don’t need a light,” I mumbled. “I know the way.”

Neil and I drifted down the hall to our bedroom, peeling off layers of clothes as we went. I kissed him, sloppy and so deliriously happy that I couldn’t think straight. He dragged the zipper of my dress down, sliding it off my body until it pooled on the floor.

“My wife,” he whispered. Gliding his hands over my shoulders, down my arms, cupping my breasts. “My beautiful, perfect wife.”

I tugged my panties off, tossed my bra aside. Neil gathered me into his arms as he dropped onto the mattress, enveloping me with his body. Guiding my leg over his hip, he nudged the tip of his cock at my entrance.

“I’m yours,” I murmured against his lips. “Always yours. Only yours. Forever and ever.”

I broke off with a groan as he slipped inside. Deeper, deeper. Bottoming out. Neil swore softly, kissing my neck, my breasts, my lips. I closed my eyes and held him close.