Page 10 of Diesel (Iron Sentinels MC #5)

A few weeks passed, but the aftershocks of what had happened at the bridge lingered like an echo in Sophie’s bones.

She didn’t speak of it often, and Diesel didn’t push. But every time she glanced at him, whether standing in the flower shop doorway with arms crossed, or sitting at her kitchen table nursing a mug of coffee, she saw it. The same haunted protectiveness that lived in his gaze now.

Yet beneath it, something gentler had begun to bloom between them. Their nights were quieter, filled with whispered conversations and tangled limbs beneath the covers. Diesel had practically moved in, not that they’d said it aloud, but neither of them wanted the space.

She’d never felt so safe. Or so utterly claimed. So, when Diesel asked her to close the shop early one golden Saturday, she was curious. He’d been restless all morning, pacing like a caged bear while she arranged bouquets and straightened displays.

“Diesel,” she teased, slipping her arms around his waist when he came up behind her at the counter. “If you’re gonna hover, at least pretend to be helpful.”

His answering rumble of laughter vibrated through her.

“Not hovering, sweetheart. Just waiting for you to lock up,” he said.

She arched a brow. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Which led to now. Sophie standing on the sidewalk in the soft glow of sunset, keys jingling in her palm as Diesel moved something covered with a tarp out from his truck bed. Her curiosity deepened when he hefted it toward the front wall of the flower shop.

“Diesel, what—”

He grinned, boyish and unguarded in a way that made her heart flutter. “Hold on.”

With practiced ease, he unscrewed the bolts of the tarp and pulled it free. Sophie gasped. A solid bronze plaque gleamed beneath the fading light, freshly mounted beside the front door:

PROTECTED BY THE IRON SENTINELS MC. TRESPASSERS WILL REGRET IT.

Her breath caught. Emotion rose thick in her throat.

“You did this ... for me?” She asked.

Diesel wiped his hands on a rag, then stepped beside her, one arm curling possessively around her waist.

“For you. For this place. I want everyone in this damn town and anyone thinking about coming through here to know. You’re under our protection now, Sophie. Under my protection,” he told her.

Her heart pounded. This wasn’t just about keeping her safe. This was him claiming her. Publicly. Without apology. She turned in his arms, her hands flattening against his chest.

“You didn’t have to—” Sophie began.

“Yeah, I did.” His eyes softened. “I couldn’t save my sister, Soph. But I swear to you, no one’s ever gonna lay a damn finger on you again. Not while I’m breathing.”

Emotion swelled hot behind her eyes. “You’re gonna make me cry,” she whispered.

Diesel brushed her cheek with his rough fingers. “No crying. Not today,” he told her.

Then he reached into the pocket of his worn leather jacket.

“Actually, there’s something else,” he added.

Sophie blinked as he pulled out a small black velvet box. Her pulse skittered.

“Diesel...”

He popped it open. Inside lay a simple silver ring. No diamonds. No flash. Just clean lines and timeless weight. It was exactly what she would’ve chosen herself. Diesel’s gaze burned into hers.

“Be my old lady, Sophie.” The words came rough but sure, spoken from a place deeper than pride or tradition. “Not because of the club. Not because of what you survived. But because I want you. Every day. Every damn night. I want you wearing my ring, knowing you’re mine and I’m yours. I want this life with you,” he said.

Sophie’s vision blurred.

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she breathed. “God, yes.”

Diesel let out a harsh breath of relief, hauling her tight against him as their mouths met.

The kiss was nothing polite or reserved. It was raw and claiming, the kind that sent sparks shooting through every inch of her body.

When he finally pulled back, their foreheads pressed together, both of them trembling.

“Put it on me,” she whispered.

Diesel’s hands weren’t steady as he slid the ring onto her finger. When it settled there, a perfect fit, she let out a shaky laugh.

“You’re stuck with me now,” she told him.

He growled low, backing her against the shop’s door.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been stuck since the first time you smiled at me,” Diesel said.

Their laughter faded into another heated kiss. By the time they drove home to her apartment, Sophie’s nerves thrummed with anticipation.

She barely made it through the doorway before Diesel spun her into his arms again.

“Gonna show you how much I mean it,” he rasped.

“Then do it,” she dared, voice breathless.

They kissed all the way to the bedroom, shedding layers as they went. Jacket, boots, his shirt falling to the floor.

Diesel handled her like something both precious and wild, lifting her to sit on the edge of the bed. His gaze roamed over her hungrily, as if memorizing every inch.

“You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “Mine.”

Sophie cupped his face, heart swelling so full she thought it might burst.

“Yes. Yours,” she whispered.

Diesel spoiled her with kisses, trailing heat down her throat, across her collarbone, over the lace of her bra. When his mouth closed over a nipple, Sophie arched with a moan, her fingers tangling in his hair. Every touch was reverent. Every kiss, a brand.

By the time he stripped her bare and settled between her thighs, she was trembling for him, eyes glazed with need.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” he rasped, hovering there.

“Don’t you dare,” she gasped.

Their bodies met with a desperate, perfect slide. Diesel buried his face against her neck as he thrust deep and sure, his every movement speaking the words he couldn’t say aloud. You matter, I’m here, I’ll never let you go again.

Sophie clung to him, tears spilling unchecked now, not from fear but overwhelming love. When her release broke over her, her cry was Diesel’s name, breathless and fierce.

He followed moments later, spilling into her with a guttural groan, hips shuddering, arms caging her like she was the center of his entire damn universe.

After, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he cradled her close, brushing kisses over her damp temple, her shoulder, her fingers now adorned with his ring.

“I love you, Sophie,” he whispered against her hair. “Don’t know when it happened. Just know it’s true.”

She smiled through fresh tears, burying her face in his chest. “I love you too.”

The End