CHAPTER TEN
Jolt
The desert sun beats down on my neck as I shift in the folding chair, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.
I tug at my collar, already feeling sweat beading under my crisp white shirt.
Why the fuck did we have to wear dress shirts today?
All of us are going to end up fucking roasting out here!
My leather cut weighs heavy on my shoulders, adding to the insane amounts of sweat on my body.
The air shimmers with heat, distorting the rows of white seats stretching out before me.
A light breeze carries the scent of sage and dust, mingling with the perfume of dozens of wedding guests who have arrived, but I don’t care about them.
There’s only one person I’m waiting for.
My eyes dart to the aisle again, searching.
Where the hell is she?
I check my phone for what feels like the hundredth time.
No new messages from Aggie.
I'd been too chicken shit to actually ask if she was coming, but our texts over the past few days had me hopeful.
A flash of red catches my eye and my heart does a little stutter-step.
There she is, weaving between chairs with that effortless grace of hers.
Christ, she looks good.
The dress hugs every curve, showing just enough skin to make my mouth go dry.
Her wild curls are pinned up, a few wisps framing her face.
I force myself to look away before I start drooling like an idiot.
Play it cool, Sterling.
You're a goddamn man, not some horny teenager.
"You were almost late to this shindig," I drawl as she plops down next to me, fighting to keep my voice casual.
Aggie shoots me a smirk that sets my blood on fire. "Fashionably late, sweetheart. And look at me, arrived just in time."
I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.
God, I love her sass. "Just in time to see me sweat my balls off in this monkey suit? How thoughtful."
She laughs, the sound like music. "Oh aye, that's exactly why I rushed over. Couldn't miss the chance to see big bad biker Jolt all gussied up."
"Hey now, I clean up nice," I protest, puffing out my chest a bit. "Admit it, you're swooning inside."
Aggie rolls her eyes, but I catch the way her gaze lingers on my arms, tracing the edges of my tattoos peeking out from under my sleeves. "Keep dreaming, lad. I've seen better."
I clutch dramatically at my chest, earning another laugh. "Ouch, Ghost. You wound me."
God, I love making her laugh.
The way her eyes crinkle at the corners, how her whole face lights up.
It does something to me, seeing her like this.
Relaxed.
Happy.
Makes me want to keep her laughing forever.
We go silent as the last of the guests arrive.
I can't help stealing glances at Aggie, drinking in every detail.
The way the sunlight catches the copper highlights in her hair.
How she absent-mindedly toys with the silver chain around her neck.
The slight furrow of concentration between her brows as she takes in the scene around us.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she murmurs, gesturing to the desert landscape stretching out behind the altar. "Never thought I'd see anything quite like this."
I nod, following her gaze.
The red rocks in the distance provide a striking backdrop, the sky an endless expanse of blue above.
Somehow the stark beauty of it all seems fitting for a biker wedding.
"Yeah, it's something else," I agree. "Though I gotta say, never pictured myself at a desert wedding. Always figured if I ever tied the knot it'd be in some dingy chapel off the Strip. You know, full Elvis impersonator and all that."
Aggie snorts. "Classy. Though I suppose that's about what I'd expect from you lot."
I raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what's your dream wedding then, Ghost? Let me guess—all black everything, skulls for centerpieces?"
She elbows me in the ribs, but there's no real heat behind it. "Fuck off. For your information, I've always wanted to get married back home in Scotland. Up in the highlands, surrounded by nothing but green hills and mist. Just me and my..." She trails off, a wistful look crossing her face. "Well, doesn't matter now, does it? Not like I'll ever find a bastard willing to put up with me crazy arse long enough to marry me."
Something in her tone makes my chest ache.
I want to tell her she's wrong, that any man would be lucky to have her.
That I'd follow her to the ends of the earth if she'd let me.
But the words stick in my throat.
Instead, I force a grin. "Hey now, some men like to be kept on their toes, Ghost. I for one would kill for a little excitement."
Our eyes lock and the air between us feels as thick as it always does when our connection shines through.
Aggie's lips part slightly, like she's about to say something.
But then she blinks and the moment shatters.
"Sure you would," she scoffs, breaking eye contact. "Until the first time I put a knife to your throat for snoring too loud."
I laugh, ignoring the pang of disappointment in my gut. "Sweetheart, that's just foreplay where I come from."
She jabs me in the side again, harder this time. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"Part of my charm." I wink.
Aggie rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Keep telling yourself that, lad. It's not like you actually want to be tied down with me anyway."
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Tied down, tying you up—I'd kill for either, darlin'."
Shit.
I brace myself for another jab or worse.
But to my surprise, Aggie just laughs.
A real, genuine laugh that makes warmth bloom in my chest.
"Careful there, Jolt," she says, eyes dancing with mischief. "A girl might start to think you're serious."
I open my mouth to tell her just how serious I am, but the opening chords of the wedding march cut me off.
We both turn to watch as the groomsmen make their way down the aisle.
Shiver looks happier than I've ever seen him as he takes his place at the altar.
Doc stands beside him as best man, stoic as ever in his pressed suit.
Even Turmoil cleaned up nice, though I can see him fidgeting with his tie already.
The bridesmaids follow, a parade of flowing dresses and beaming smiles.
I recognize Stiletto and Jordyn from their visits to the clubhouse.
Mandy brings up the rear, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
And then there's Siren.
She's a vision in white, floating down the aisle like something out of a dream.
I hear Aggie's sharp intake of breath beside me and glance over to see her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"You good?" I murmur, resisting the urge to take her hand.
She nods, giving me a watery smile. "Aye. Just... been a while since I've seen something so beautiful."
I want to tell her she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but I bite my tongue.
Instead, I nudge her gently with my shoulder. "Careful there, Ghost. Your soft side is showing."
She huffs out a laugh, discreetly wiping at her eyes. "Tell anyone and I'll gut you in your sleep."
"Wouldn't dream of it." I grin.
We fall silent as the ceremony begins.
Sakura officiates, her usual gruff demeanor softened by the obvious joy radiating from the couple before her.
I find myself only half-listening to the vows, too distracted by the warmth of Aggie's arm pressed against mine.
When it's time for the kiss, the crowd erupts in cheers.
I whoop and holler with the rest of them, watching as Shiver dips Siren low.
It's a picture-perfect moment, the kind you see in movies.
As the newlyweds make their way back down the aisle, a fleet of four-wheelers and side-by-sides roar to life.
The reception awaits, set up further out in the desert.
I turn to Aggie, offering her my arm with an exaggerated flourish. "Shall we, milady?"
She rolls her eyes but takes it anyway. "I suppose someone's got to keep you out of trouble."
We make our way to one of the fourwheelers, and I hop on, holding a hand for Aggie.
She gets up, tucking the skirt of her dress below her.
The drive is short but exhilarating, wind whipping through our hair as we tear across the sand.
I can't help sneaking glances at Aggie.
She's let her hair down, wild curls streaming behind her in the wind.
The reception area comes into view, and I can't help but let out a low whistle.
Shiver and Siren have really outdone themselves.
Tables are scattered across the desert floor, draped in crisp white linens that flutter in the breeze.
Twinkling lights are strung overhead, creating a canopy of stars that will shine even brighter once the sun sets.
At the center of it all stands a massive dance floor, surrounded by high-top tables and a bar that looks like it could serve an army.
"Holy shit," I mutter, helping Aggie down from our ride. "This is something else."
She nods, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. "Never thought I'd see the day when a biker wedding looked like it belonged in a fancy magazine."
I chuckle, guiding her towards one of the tables. "Yeah, well, Shiver's always been one for surprises. He told Siren she could have anything she wanted, and it looks like he followed through."
Aggie leans in close, her breath tickling my ear.
"Who are they?" she asks, nodding toward the group of men wearing cuts different from ours.
I take a swig of the whiskey that's magically appeared in front of me—Jameson, of course.
"That'd be the Shotgun Saints," I explain, keeping my voice low. "They're Shiver's family, from Texas. His old man's their president."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "I didn't realize Shiver had connections like that."
"Neither did most of us, until recently," I admit. "The club's working on building an alliance with them. This wedding? It's as much about cementing that relationship as it is about Shiver and Siren."
Aggie's quiet for a moment, processing. "Clever," she finally says. "Mixing business with pleasure."
I nod, my eyes scanning the crowd.
The energy is electric.
Everyone's on their best behavior, but there's no mistaking the power play at work here.
"Speaking of mixing," I say, standing up and offering Aggie my hand. "How about a dance?"
She hesitates, eyeing my outstretched palm like it might bite her. "I don't know, Jolt. I'm not much for?—"
I cut her off, gently pulling her to her feet. "Come on, Ghost. Live a little."
As if on cue, the music shifts to something slow and sultry.
I lead Aggie to the dance floor, pulling her close as we start to sway.
She's tense at first, but gradually relaxes into my arms.
"See?" I murmur. "Not so bad, is it?"
She looks up at me, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes that I've never seen before. "Don't get used to it," she warns, but I sense the playfulness underneath it all.
As we move together, I can't help but think about how right this feels.
Aggie in my arms, the desert night closing in around us, and the way I find myself yearning for her more and more.
I know I should be focused on the club, on the alliance being forged here tonight, on the threats surrounding us.
But at this moment, all I can think about is the woman in front of me.
Aggie asks, her voice barely above a whisper, "What's going on in that head of yours?"
I consider deflecting, but decide on honesty instead. "Just thinking about how much I like having you here," I admit. "With me."
She stiffens slightly, but doesn't pull away.
"Jolt," she starts, her tone warning.
"I know, I know," I say quickly. "But, we can enjoy this, in the right here, the right now."
She can argue all she wants that she doesn’t belong to me, but we both damn well know she does.
Aggie studies me for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
Finally, she nods.
As the song comes to an end, I resist the urge to pull her closer, to kiss her right here in front of everyone.
Instead, I lead her back to our table, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back.
The night stretches on, a blur of toasts and laughter, dancing and drinks.
The desert night has cooled, but I feel nothing but warmth.
"Well, Ghost," I drawl, leaning in close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume, "I was thinking we could keep this party going. Drink a little more, enjoy this beautiful night..."
I pause, letting my gaze roam over her face. "And spend some quality time with this gorgeous woman I can't seem to get out of my head."
Aggie's eyebrow arches, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "And then what? You planning on taking me back to your place to sleep with me?"
The bluntness of her question catches me off guard, but I recover quickly.
I've always appreciated her straightforward nature, even if it sometimes feels like verbal whiplash.
"Sweetheart," I say, my voice low and sincere, "I don't need to sleep with you. I'd be more than content just sleeping beside you, with you in my arms."
I watch as surprise flickers across her face, followed by a softness I rarely see from her.
It's gone in an instant, replaced by her usual tough as nails exterior, but I caught it.
And I'm glad I did.
I want Aggie to know she's more than just a piece of ass to me.
"Careful there, Jolt," she says, her Scottish lilt more pronounced. "A girl might start to think you're going soft on her."
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Never, Ghost. I just know a good thing when I see it."
Aggie rolls her eyes, but I can see the pleased flush on her cheeks. "All right, smooth talker. Let's get out of here before you start sprouting poetry or some shite."
As we stand to leave, I catch her hand in mine, intertwining our fingers.
She doesn't pull away, and I count that as a win.
We make our way through the dwindling crowd, saying our goodbyes to Siren and Shiver.
The night air is crisp as we step away from the reception area, the sounds of the party fading behind us.
I lead Aggie toward the four wheeler we rode in on, and we hop on the beast.