Page 52 of Desert Sky (RB MC #4)

JD

T he sun hadn’t even broken over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains when I laced up my boots. The ground was still cold. Dew kissed the grass. But my body buzzed like a live wire—half nerves, half adrenaline, all love.

I didn’t sleep much the night before. Too many thoughts. Too many memories. Too many “what ifs.”

Now? No more waiting. No more ghosts. No more secrets.

Today, Skye becomes mine again—this time forever.

I moved across the wide porch of the ranch house, nodding at the two guards Regan hired—ex-military badasses with mirrored shades and coiled radios. They gave me a chin lift. All clear. No threats. Not today.

“You look like you’re about to march into war,” Regan teased, stepping beside me in a black satin robe, hair already in curlers.

I shot her a grateful look. “Guess in a way I am.”

She smiled slyly. “A war you already won, JD.”

“I couldn't have done this without you. ”

She winked. “Damn right you couldn’t. Just wait till she sees the roses. Oh, and the choir? They rehearsed all week.”

“Everything set?”

“Security triple-checked. Guests are arriving through the back. All vendors sworn to silence. Skye thinks she’s walking into a birthday brunch. You better marry her before she kills me.”

I smirked. “She won’t. Not once she sees Jackson in his tiny suit holding that ring pillow.”

“Speaking of…” she paused dramatically. “Is that a tear I see, big bad biker?”

I flipped her off good-naturedly. “Don’t you have a bride to dress?”

Regan winked again and turned toward the main house. “See you at the altar, loverboy.”

The house was already alive with motion.

I could smell cinnamon rolls baking—Gram had insisted.

Shaniqua barked orders into a walkie talkie like she was leading a hostage rescue op.

Malik double-checked the perimeter, all business in his black suit, earpiece tucked behind his ear like he was Secret Service.

And me?

I was pacing. Like a lunatic.

Edge, Tarak, and River had crashed in the bunkhouse, still recovering from the chaos of the bachelor trip to Malibu. Even hungover, those bastards showed up at sunrise, tuxes half-on and coffee in hand, ready to help me step into forever.

I found myself out back, hands shoved into my pockets, watching the ranch crew string up rows of white lights over the pasture. The ceremony setup was simple but perfect—wooden arch wrapped in fresh blooms, chairs lined up in the golden grass, everything angled just right toward the canyon ridge.

The hands on the clock moved faster. It was time to get dressed.

I stepped into the converted hayloft where the boys were getting ready. Cal stood tall, tie straight, boots shined, the damn Marlboro man in real life.

“You good, brother?” he asked, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m better than good,” I said, looking around at the three men I’d ride into hell with.

Edge was swearing at his tie in the mirror while River laughed and lit a cigar. Tarak, already suited up, handed me a small silver flask.

“To the dumb bastard crazy enough to plan a surprise wedding,” he toasted.

We laughed and drank. But then the mood shifted—thicker. Cal handed me the rings. Jackson's tiny one was tucked in a velvet pouch. The larger one—the Northport crest—had been reset with a ruby the color of Skye’s hair in sunlight.

Edge adjusted my collar. “You ready to give her forever?”

I nodded. “Already did. Just making it official now.”

Outside, white chairs lined the pasture. Rose petals paved a crimson aisle. Guests were arriving in silence, hands clasped, eyes wide. The air smelled like sweet hay, summer dust, and peonies.

Gram sat on the front row, dabbing her eyes.

Malik stood stiff in his suit like he was guarding a palace.

Shaniqua? She looked radiant in lavender, lips pressed tight like she might burst with pride.

Jackson, in suspenders and little boots, practiced his walk over and over with Amber .

He looked up at me.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Do I walk slow or fast?”

I knelt beside him. “You walk proud. Like you’re carrying magic.”

He beamed.

“Now all we need is the bride. Regan just texted! Places everyone! They are twenty minutes out. I repeat twenty minutes!” Edge herded the crowd better than Cal did his horses.

“Showtime.” River clapped my back as we walked to our places.