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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MANE

We’ve been home for several weeks now from our Tennessee adventure. Mason and I have spent more time together than I thought we’d be able to. I wholeheartedly believed he’d be boggled down with his prospect and Kings duties and wouldn’t have much free time for us. But Hydro, he stepped in and made sure that Mason had more freedom than most prospects are afforded.

Hydro lives, breathes, and sets his foundation around the club, but he also has other obligations. Namely, Ella. He believes firm family ties and club involvement makes the institution of the MC a stronger and more cohesive unit.

Cotton has called me three to four times per week since our departure from the ranch, not only is he lonely but he’s been plagued by ghosts any time he steps foot in his house. I think I have him convinced to either rent out his farm or sell it and move here where his support system is now living.

Maverick has been encouraging the move, wanting his best friend here where he can help him heal from the betrayal of his wife, amping up club life for him. He has his fingers crossed that Cotton will want to join our patchwork family. The parents went home but Dad still makes his presence known even if he isn’t here in person.

Mom made him confess to me that Judd, who will be getting payback at some point in time, told him about Mason before I did and he flew to where Mason was so he could introduce himself. I think it’s because he needed to assert his dominance and show Mason that he was the alpha of the pack. They became fast friends during his various visits. I’ll admit, only to myself, that it makes me elated that he decided to make that trip and form a bond with the man I’d slowly fallen in love with over many late night, get to know you, conversations.

It explains why Dad didn’t do the entire chest beating thing when Mason arrived. When I went to my man about it, he didn’t deny it and by the end of our chat, I understood his reasoning for not telling me. He needed to build trust with my dad and didn’t want to lose it before he gained it. It’s important to him that Dad and he get along since in his words, “I’m not going anywhere, Charmane Hope Alvarez. You’re stuck with me for life, beauty,” which he expressed to me vehemently before we had a panty-melting makeout session. I always smile when I recall those heart-clenching words, it also gives my battery operated boyfriend a workout when I think about the outcome of that discussion.

Mason has let go of a lot of his religious convictions, but sex before marrying me isn’t one he’s brushed off as easily. Which is okay with me because the buildup is going to make the act itself explosive.

After all, we’ve had many months of foreplay.

* * *

“I can’t believe we’re here,” I say to Mason as I excitedly bounce on my toes.

Four weeks ago, Mason and I sat down with a custom order clerk at the local dealership and built my motorcycle from the ground up. I wanted Mason to refurbish me one from the scrap yard, but we couldn’t find a frame in their inventory short enough to fit my stumps for legs. My baby wasn’t supposed to be ready for a couple of more weeks, however, a surprise phone call early last night from the representative had me rallying the troops to bring me here to pick it up.

When I ride out of here, I want to do so with my friends, family, and man by my side. Hydro even made an exception and let Ella dust off and ride hers out for this occasion. Since they’ve become an ‘official’ couple and she accepted his old lady patch, she sits behind him on the back of his ride unless it’s a DreamCatcher run or function.

Mason looks down at me from where I’m tucked beneath his arms, telling me, “When I branch off from the group, follow me. There’s someplace I want to take you.”

He’s been fidgety all morning, and I hadn’t examined it too closely since I’ve had excited butterflies fluttering in my belly. Tilting my head, I notice how anxious he is. I don’t have the feeling it’s anything bad but there’s something about the way his body is shifting that has me ready to delve in and discover what has him acting so antsy.

“Okay, babe,” I answer. “Everything alright with you? You seem… off.”

“Everything’s good, beautiful. I just have a lot on my mind. Nothing for you to worry about. I don’t keep anything from you unless I’m specifically ordered not to, you know that.”

“I know you don’t,” I express. That’s the one thing I can say without a shadow of a doubt, Mason is all about honesty and not keeping secrets.

The rumbling purr of an engine has me bouncing out of his arms and plastering my face to the window. “Look at her, Mason. Isn’t she glorious?”

“Almost as much as you are,” he comments.

“Good one,” Ella says, winking at him.

“Ella,” Hydro growls, his voice full of warning. “What have I said about you flirting with men in front of me?”

“That I’ll wear your handprint on my ass every time I do it,” she answers, batting her eyelashes at him.

“You did that on purpose,” I accuse her as she sultrily shifts her hips from one side to the other when she walks up and stands beside me.

She shrugs her shoulders and resolutely admits, “What can I say? I like riling him up. It makes things more fun in the bedroom.”

Hydro leans over her shoulder, saying, “You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, Ella.”

“Promises, promises,” she sing-songs, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head between his pecs.

“Ignore them, baby. Let’s go check out your ride,” Mason demands as he laces his fingers with mine and escorts me out of the building.

“Wow.” I gush. It took me years to save up enough money to be able to buy a motorcycle, this one specifically. I didn’t want a standard one off the showroom floor, I wanted one designed explicitly for me and my body type. I was also determined that I wouldn’t have a monthly payment, so I bided my time and cushioned my bank account so I could buy it with the cash out of my pocket.

“Damn, beauty,” Mason whistles.

Nodding my head I say, “I know, right.” I dash over to where the salesman parked it and as soon as he steps a foot back, I lovingly graze my fingers across the gas tank. It’s painted in lavender with flyaway birds from a dreamcatcher sketched on it. My design. I took a graphic design course for one of my electives and had so much fun with the program that I played with the club's insignia, only making it my own.

Everything else, including the pipes and engine block are stained midnight black. I did this because I wanted it to, in some ways, compliment Mason’s.

When I swing my leg over the saddle, Mason and Hydro walk over to me and hand me a helmet painted in the same shade of purple as the gas tank. “It’s Bluetooth compatible. We’ve already hooked it up and connected it to our system,” Hydro explains. “The club pitched in and got this for you as a congratulatory gift.”

I’m shocked because I’ve had the same helmet since Dad gave it to me in high school when I started riding around the complex and town with the other members’ kids. I had tucked it into Mason’s saddlebags earlier and he never hinted that I shouldn’t bring it with me—sneaky man. I wonder if this is what had him fidgety, he was excited about giving it to me? Guess I’ll find out later if my thoughts are correct or not.

“Thank you,” I say around a hard swallow. “This means the world to me.”

The salesman gives us a few minutes to inspect the bike before stepping forward with an envelope and a set of keys. I thank him, trying not to be rude and snatch the keys from his hand. “Enjoy your new bike. All of your paperwork is inside of the packet, including your registration. The title will be mailed to you.”

“Appreciate it,” Mason says, shaking his hand. Then he turns to me and lifts my helmet from the tank where I sat it and places it on my head before strapping it on me. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, bouncing on the seat.

“Let’s roll!” Hydro roars as everyone bolts toward their bikes. The thundering sound as everyone fires up their engines and revs them has the entire ground vibrating from beneath my feet where they’re resting on the asphalt.

My feet actually touch the ground!

Usually, I’m tiptoeing while straddling a motorcycle, struggling to hold it upright so this is a magical experience.

* * *

For the next two hours, we ride through the back roads of the town. Mason’s voice comes over the airways of my helmet when he says, “Follow me, gorgeous.”

Waving to the others as they drift off in the other direction, I stay catty corner to Mason as I follow him. I don’t want to stick to his side since I have no clue where we’re going, but every time I tried to pull back he’d bark out the word no. So my positioning is my way of compromising. He can still see me but he’s able to lead the way.

When we pull into a clearing, my jaw drops with awe. The background setting is stunning as the sun shines off the foliage and field. My eyes are captured by a picnic set up that is sprawled out on a blanket beneath one of the larger trees. Its leaves are thick and large enough that they’ll keep the sun’s rays off of us and provide a little shelter so neither one of us ends up burnt.

As I dismount and remove my helmet, I glance over at Mason with tears in my eyes. A wobbly smile crosses my face when I realize what this romantic gesture means for the two of us. He picked a special day for me to ask a very important question. If the man who’s bent on his knee is any indication of what’s to come.