Page 21

Cora

It was two weeks after The Incident . That’s what I was calling it.

Mason had been pushing that maybe I needed to talk to someone about what happened. He was worried about me, but what he didn’t understand was that I didn’t want to talk about it. He assured me that Spike and his men would never be able to hurt anyone again and I believed him.

I wasn’t dumb. I knew what that meant. Spike and his men were dead and my man made it so.

I kept waiting for the guilt to come, but it never did. All I felt was relief that Spike was gone. He hurt a lot of people. Beck and I were only two of his victims.

Glancing around the pavilion, my eyes caught on Memphis perched on Killer’s lap. She was another casualty of Spike’s wickedness.

Killer’s dark hand splayed across her back and I felt my lips turn up at the corners. They were polar opposites. Where he was at least six-foot-five of pure muscle, she was maybe five-foot-nothing and tiny. Where his features were dark, Memphis’s were light.

“She’s doing better,” Mac said, lowering herself onto the bench beside me. She rubbed her hand over her baby bump as she looked over at Memphis.

I nodded. “I noticed. She actually made eye contact with me this morning when I passed her in the hallway.”

Two weeks ago, Memphis had practically been a ghost, doing everything she could to go unnoticed. Now she was sitting in a crowd of rowdy bikers, still a little quiet but she was getting there.

We watched as Memphis leaned forward to grab a napkin, and Killer’s massive hand slid down across her lower back, steadying her. The gesture was so unconsciously protective that it made my chest ache. For all his terrifying reputation, which I didn’t doubt for a second was true, the club’s enforcer handled Memphis like she was the most prescious thing in the world.

Mac and I both sighed. Seriously, these guys were something else. watching the same thing that I was.

“Rage won’t even let me carry the laundry basket anymore,” Mac complained good-naturedly, patting her barely-there bump. “Says it’s too heavy. Can you imagine what he’ll be like when I’m really showing?”

I laughed, picturing the tattooed giant hovering over Mac like a mother hen. “Mason’s been the same way. You’d think every bone in my body was broken.”

“Men.” Mac rolled her eyes, but her smile said something else.

Across from us, Foxy was animatedly telling some outrageous story that had everyone howling with laughter.

I’d taken an immediate liking to Mason’s sister. She had a sharp wit and took absolutely no shit from anyone, especially her brother.

“And so there I am, right, covered in sap and halfway up this big-ass tree when out pops this tiny little head.” Foxy motioned to the baby raccoon in her arms.

Memphis giggled and then froze, her eyes going wide as if shocked by her own reaction.

Every head at the table turned toward her.

Even Killer looked surprised, a rare grin spreading across his usually stony face. The sight of his pearly whites against his dark skin transformed him from the scary-as-shit enforcer to one handsome devil, in an instant.

“There it is.” His deep voice was soft as his thumb stroked Memphis’s arm.

Memphis ducked her head, embarrassed by the attention, but I could see the smile she was fighting.

The back door banged against the clubhouse, and my heart did a little flip at the sight of Mason and Beckett walking toward us.

They had their heads bent close together, talking intently, and there was something suspicious about their body language that made my eyes narrow.

They were up to something.

Mason caught the look on my face and winked, his lips curving into that little half-smile.

Jesus!

It really should be a sin for one man to be so damn sexy.

He swaggered over and when he reached my table, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my temple. “You ready?” he asked, his eyes bright with something I wasn’t so sure had anything to do with our plan.

I nodded and leaned to the side, grabbing the folded papers I’d been keeping there all afternoon, out of my pocket.

My hands shook like a leaf as I held them out to Beckett. “These are for you,” I said, suddenly feeling nervous about the whole thing.

Beckett frowned, confused as he opened the document. “What is—” His voice cut off abruptly as he began to read. “Adoption papers?”

A hush fell over the pavilion as everyone turned to see what was going on.

I’d been nervous about doing this so publicly, but Mason had insisted that the club was family and would want to be part of this moment.

“You guys really want me?” Beckett’s voice cracked, eyes shining with unshed tears as they darted between Mason and me. “For real?”

Before I could stop them, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I’d promised myself that I wasn’t going to cry and there I was with the waterworks.

Mason reached for his sunglasses perched on top of his head and covered his eyes as he cleared his throat. The gravity of the situation was hitting him too. “You’re already our kid,” he said gruffly. “This just makes it legal.”

I reached out to take Beckett’s free hand. “The choice is yours, and no matter what you decide, your home is with us.”

Beckett looked down at the papers again, his fingers tracing over the words. When he looked back up, a tear escaped. “This is...” he swallowed hard. “This is all I’ve ever wanted. A real family.”

He lunged forward, wrapping one arm around Mason and the other around me, pulling us into a hug that has my ribs protesting.

I didn’t care. I hugged him back tightly, my heart so full it threatened to burst right out of my chest.

“Yes,” he mumbled against Mason’s shoulder. “I want this more than anything.”

The pavilion exploded with cheers.

Beckett pulled back, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, embarrassed but grinning wide. Mason thumped him on the back, looking pleased and slightly uncomfortable with all the public display of emotion.

Before the excitement could die down, Mason let out a sharp whistle of his own that cut through the noise, bringing everyone to attention.

“There’s one more thing,” he announced, his dark glasses aimed at me.

Shoving a hand into his pocket, he came back out with a black box as he lowered himself down onto one knee.

Holy. Crap.

My hands shook uncontrollably, and everyone around us had gone deathly silent.

“Cora Allen,” he started, his voice sounding deeper all of a sudden. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you five years ago. We lost time, time we’ll never get back, but I don’t want to waste another second.” He flipped open the box, revealing a princess cut diamond ring. “You’re the heart of this family we’re building. You’re the one who makes our house a home. You’re the one who makes my dick hard as steel.”

“Mason!” Tears streaming down my face, I threw my head back and laughed. This strong, loyal, fierce man who’d moved heaven and earth to find me and Beckett, who’d shown me through his actions every day just how deeply he love me, was who he was.

“Marry me, Cora.” It wasn’t a question. Not really.

“Yes,” I whispered, then shouted louder, “Yes! I’ll marry you.”

The pavilion boomed with cheers again as Mason slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, the big diamond flanked by smaller sapphires that caught the light and threw blue sparks across my skin. It was beautiful.

Mason rose to his feet, pulling me with him. “You’ve made me so fucking happy,” he growled before crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that made my toes curl and my heart soar.

When we broke apart, Mason’s eyes were dark with a hunger I recognized all too well.

My man was feeling frisky.

Without warning, he bent low and scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his broad chest.

“Mason!” I shrieked as my arms went around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Time to fuck my fiancée,” he whispered into my ear.

Heat rushed through my body.

Like a man on a mission, he stomped toward the clubhouse

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Mac shouted from behind us.

I buried my face against Mason’s neck. “Everyone knows what we’re going to do.”

“So.”

I smiled bigger. “You’re crazy.”

“You should have thought about that before you said yes, baby. It’s too late now. You’re stuck with my crazy ass.”

Foxy held the door open for us, grinning wickedly. “Don’t break her, brother. She’s still healing.”

“Shut up, Cal,” Mason shot back with the biggest smile on his face I’d ever seen.

“Congratulations, you two,” she said, more sincerely. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Foxy,” I called over Mason’s shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time. At the door, he paused, bending down so I could reach the knob and push it open.

“I think you’re supposed to carry me over the threshold after we’re married,” I teased.

“I’ll carry you then too,” he promised, kicking the door shut behind us with his boot and gently placing me onto the bed.

“Alone at last.” I smiled up at him as I reached for his belt.

He caught my wrists, his thumbs caressing the faded scars. “You sure you’re up for this, baby? Doc said you still need to take it easy.”

Narrowing my eyes, I gripped the sides of his cut and tugged him closer. “Mason Sosa, if you don’t make love to me right now, I’m going to castrate you.”

A slow, wolfish grin spread across his face. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

As his mouth descended onto mine and his hands began working the buttons on my shirt, I marveled at how perfectly everything had fallen into place.

Mason was my future, my forever. And with Beckett, we were building the family we’d both always dreamed of having.

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips as we fell back onto the bed together.

“I love you too.”

The End… for now.