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Lexi

Time had a strange way of both racing forward and standing utterly still in those first two months in Maine. Some days I woke up and felt like everything in my life had changed overnight, separated, living in a cabin near the ocean with a biker, raising my infant son. Other days, it felt like I’d been in this limbo forever, caught between the hush money from the mob, the echoes of my old marriage to Mark, and the new life quietly forming with Maverick.

Those early weeks blurred into a routine that was half domestic bliss, half nervous watchfulness. We’d found a modest ranch-style house on the outskirts of a small coastal town, a place the Kings of Anarchy MC had arranged. It was bigger than the tiny apartment above the clubhouse, with a fenced backyard and enough space for my baby’s crib in a cozy, light-filled nursery. I painted the walls in soft lavender, Nova helping me with the stencils of little stars and moons.

During the day, I nursed the baby, still named publicly as Mark Jr. in some official papers, but privately we called him “Adam” in honor of Maverick’s and his middle name, changed diapers, read my dog-eared law textbooks, and tried not to obsess over Mark’s inevitable legal meltdown. And each night, after dinner, Maverick would help me clean up, his warm presence both comforting and nerve-wracking.

I tried to keep him at arm’s length physically, my body still felt foreign to me after pregnancy, and the emotional scars from everything that happened left me skittish. But Maverick was patient. He never pushed me for intimacy, never made me feel bad about my post-baby body. He just lingered, near enough that I knew he was there for me, yet distant enough to let me set the pace.

My phone calls with the divorce attorney progressed slowly. Mark’s legal team, big shots from his father’s firm, filed every delaying tactic possible. But eventually, the hush money and the fact that I’d left quietly worked in my favor. Mark had no interest in continuing a public fight if it meant risking the mob’s attention. So the days dragged on, punctuated by tense phone calls with lawyers, until at last a settlement formed. I wouldn’t get much financially. I didn’t want it anyway. I had that hush money from Marciano sitting in a secret account, ironically enough. Illegal or not, Mark had no claim to it and was happy to wash his hands of it.

Nova joked that we should use it to open our own law practice somewhere in Maine. We daydreamed about a small storefront in the coastal town, painted white with a sign reading Lexi & Nova, Attorneys at Law or something like that, more likely our last names. Maybe my last name would be Hart by then. But it was just a fantasy, the firm and the marriage. For the moment, I was still adjusting to motherhood, living with Maverick, and trying to get out of a marriage that was, at best, a sham.

Despite the turmoil, Maverick found sweet ways to draw me out of my shell. Every Thursday, he took me on a “date” somewhere in the area. Once, we rode his Harley down the coast to a lighthouse, the wind in my hair and the ocean crashing below. Another time, we went to a quaint farmer’s market. We wandered aisles of fresh produce while Adam snoozed in a sling pressed to my chest. Maverick would slip an arm around me protectively, his patched leather cut branding him an outlaw among the wholesome families. Yet he fit in so easily at my side, flashing a small grin whenever an older couple cooed over the baby.

He was gentle with me in every sense. If I shied away from physical closeness, he’d back off, but the longing in his eyes never vanished. I saw it in how he lingered over breakfast, in how his fingers grazed mine when handing me the sugar, in how he fixed the squeaky step outside our front door so I wouldn’t trip carrying the baby. He was giving me space, but he was also quietly proving that this time, he wouldn’t abandon me.

Still, I struggled with my postpartum body. My belly remained softer, my hips wider, my moods unpredictable with breastfeeding and hormones. I wore baggy clothes, not wanting Maverick to see how I’d changed. Late at night, I’d cradle Adam in my arms and remember how Maverick once traced every curve of my body. Now I felt unrecognizable, ashamed. If he noticed my insecurities, he never commented, just offered hushed reassurances that I was beautiful. But I usually laughed it off or changed the subject.

My heart still pounded with guilt. I’d been dishonest with him for so long, letting him think I’d chosen Mark, while I was forced into marriage. Even though I knew he understood now, a piece of me felt unworthy of his affection. So I kept him at a distance, physically and emotionally. He noticed, but never demanded. With controlling men surrounding me, Maverick's patience was a comfort.

Maverick was still a Road Monster. He wore the cut with pride, but also an undercurrent of weariness. Kingpin didn’t call the shots here in the northeast, some other Ace of the Road Monsters had that territory. Meanwhile, the Kings of Anarchy MC, particularly their president, Solo, welcomed Maverick as an ally. The synergy between them grew stronger by the day. But as Maverick’s ties to the club solidified, he found himself missing the solitude of being on the road alone. Except he didn’t want to leave me or the baby.

Chigger had taken off on a run shortly after we arrived. Nova decided to stay with me, living in a small side room until she decided her next steps. I suspected she half-expected Chigger to come back, but she wasn’t holding her breath. She had other plans, like maybe opening that law practice with me someday. We talked about it on slow afternoons, me nursing the baby while she perused local real estate listings on her phone.

“We could do it,” she’d say, pointing to a listing for an old storefront in the harbor town. “Restore it, hang our shingle, become the dynamic duo.”

I smiled at the idea, but a hollow pang reminded me. I can’t start practicing until the dust settles. The last thing I needed was Mark’s father’s firm or the mob sniffing around. I told Nova maybe in a few months.

Two months crawled by. Adam sprouted from newborn to a plump infant, giggling whenever Maverick made funny faces. Nova found a part-time gig waitressing, paying her share of expenses. The hush money covered rent and groceries, so we weren’t exactly starving. My divorce with Mark was finalized with surprisingly little fanfare. One final signature on a stack of documents ended that twisted chapter. A wave of relief crashed over me, I was free. But also, a sliver of fear. Mark was pissed to be losing his heir and claim to his father’s fortune. Signing the divorce papers, his hand had been forced. What if he retaliates?

When I told Maverick that the divorce was done, I expected him to erupt in joy. Instead, he gave me a solemn nod and gently took my hands. “Good,” he said, voice thick with unspoken emotion. “Now we can truly move forward.”

Life shifted after that. Freed from Mark’s legal grip, I breathed easier. Maverick and I grew closer in ways that went beyond physical desire. We discovered each other’s hobbies, mixed martial arts was his passion and he liked tinkering with engines. I liked reading romance novels and cooking anything that took a million ingredients. Late evenings, I’d curl on the couch, devouring a steamy historical or dark biker romance, Adam asleep in the crib, while Maverick laid a warm blanket over my legs. Sometimes, he’d brush aside my hair, gently kiss my temple, whispering how peaceful I looked reading.

One night, I felt bold. I wore a slightly more fitted top, revealing a hint of my postpartum body. Maverick’s eyes lit up, a slow grin curving his lips. As I read a passage from my current novel, he asked me about it.

“You’re smiling,” he said, resting his forearm on the back of the couch. “Must be a good part?”

I blushed, hugging the book to my chest. “It’s… a spicy scene, actually,” I admitted, heart pounding.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in. “Tell me,” he said, voice low. “Give me the gist.”

My cheeks flamed. “It’s a dark romance. The hero’s morally gray, tying the heroine to the bed, worshiping her, then, it’s, well, it’s intense.”

A spark danced in Maverick’s gaze, a tinge of mischief. “I can do that if you want,” he teased, brushing his fingers lightly across my waist. “I’ll tie you up, re-enact it line by line.”

A shiver ran through me, both intrigue and lingering fear. “N-no,” I stammered, remembering the vulnerability. “I’m not ready for that kind of… scene. Just reading it was enough. But I… I might be ready for something else.” My heart pounded as I shut the book, gaze lifting to meet his.

He exhaled softly. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, breath catching. Time to let him in. I set the book aside, leaning forward. My lips brushed his, tentative at first, but then the hunger we’d kept at bay surged. He cradled my face, kissing me with a reverence that made my eyes burn with tears.

We stumbled to the bedroom, my bedroom now. I felt self-conscious about my softer belly, the stretch marks. But Maverick’s hands caressed every part of me, murmuring how beautiful I was, how lucky he felt. My heart soared, the insecurities slowly melting as his lips mapped my skin. God. I wanted him.

His hand swept across the tattoo on my belly, his property patch. “I’m glad you kept it.”

“Me too,” I said, before I got completely swept off my feet.

The first touch of his weight over me made me gasp. The baby was asleep next door, Nova out for the evening, so we had quiet privacy. A swirl of memories flooded me, our one night in that resort, the heartbreak that followed, the child we created.

Maverick was about to strike, claim me again, but I rolled away.

He laid on his back. “What’s wrong?”

I climbed over him, straddling his naked form. “I have so many regrets, but one in particular has really haunted me.”

“What?” he asked, his face tight with concern.

My hands ran down his chiseled abs before I wrapped them around his thick erection. “I never got to taste you.”

A big smile grew on the biker’s face. “By all means, gobble away.”

“Gobble?” I laughed, but I licked my lips. “I’ll show you gobbling.”

Maverick guided me down to his cock. I opened my mouth wide. His hands clutched my hair. “I’m sure you will, princess.”

His salty skin tasted divine as I slid my tongue up and down his hard length. Soon, I was swallowing a mouthful of satiated desire, fresh from Maverick and right down my throat. I licked my lips. The biker was delicious, not the milky substance, but just being with him again.

But even though we took our time exploring, checking off all the foreplay, when he entered me, the lovemaking was tender, unhurried, fueled by more than raw desire. We were forging a bond, healing old wounds with each shared jolt.

Afterwards, wrapped in sheets, I felt my tears roll down my face. He noticed, brushing them away with a calloused thumb.

“You okay?” he whispered, worry lining his brow.

I mustered a trembling smile. “Yes,” I choked out. “Better than okay. I just… I love you, Maverick. More than ever. And I’m sorry it took me so long to trust you again.”

His eyes shone. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, leaning in to kiss me gently. “I love you, princess. I’d wait forever if I had to.” A pause, then he sighed. “But… I do have to leave soon. Just for a bit.”

My heart constricted. “Leave? Where?”

He stroked my hair. “The Road Monsters need me on a run. With us up here, I’m technically under a different Ace’s territory. They want me to show face, maybe do a job or two. I’ll only be gone a week or two, max. Chigger or someone else will be here to guard you and the baby. But before I go…” He drew a breath. “I want to marry you.”

A wave of breathless shock rushed through me. “Marry me?” My chest fluttered.

He laughed softly. “Of course. I wanted to marry you a year ago, before everything crashed down. Now you’re free. I want to make us an official family, me, you, and Adam.”

Tears brimmed again, but this time from sheer joy. “Yes,” I whispered. “I want to marry you, too.”

He grinned, relief washing over his face. “Good, because I already asked Nova to watch the baby while we go pick out a ring tomorrow.”

The next morning, Nova happily offered to babysit, eyeing us with a teasing smile. “Go on your little ring-shopping adventure,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye on Adam.”

We hopped on Maverick’s Harley, and my heart soared at the familiar rumble beneath me. I clung to his waist as we sped down the coastal road, gulls calling overhead. It felt like a scene from one of my books, except it was real. We found a quaint jewelry shop in the nearby harbor town. The bell chimed as we entered, a friendly elderly clerk greeting us.

We browsed the glass cases, my eyes lingering on modest rings. I didn’t want anything flashy, or that reminded me of Mark’s extravagance. Finally, I spotted a simple band with a small diamond cluster. Something elegant, not ostentatious. Maverick slipped it onto my finger, and it fit perfectly. Our gazes locked, and I saw so much love in his eyes that my breath caught.

“This is it,” I whispered, smiling up at him.

He pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “We’ll do the wedding in two weeks.”

“Just a small ceremony.”

“The Kings will come, maybe Nova as your maid of honor. That enough time to get a dress?”

I laughed softly. “I’ll find something. I’m sure Nova will be ecstatic to help.”

He paid for the ring in cash, not with the hush money I’d offered him, ironically enough. Maverick always seemed to have enough cash, and I wouldn’t let myself worry where it came from.

We rode back through the winding roads, the wind tangling my hair. I glanced at the ring on my finger, heart brimming with cautious optimism. My life was far from perfect. There was still the looming threat of Mark’s reaction, the final steps to ensure the mob wouldn’t target me, and the bizarre truth of Kingpin being my father.

When we pulled up to our little rental house, the sun was just setting over the pines. Nova stood on the porch, baby in her arms, grinning ear to ear when she saw the ring. She squealed, scolding me for not letting her help pick it out, but hugging me tight anyway.

Maverick hopped off the bike, took the baby from Nova, and cradled him in the crook of his arm. I watched them, my heart bursting. Adam looked so peaceful in his father’s embrace, and I felt that same sense of peace wash over me, too.

Yes, I’d have to face the final storms. My father was a powerful outlaw biker with some hold over the biker I loved, and Mark might lash out. But tonight, in that golden twilight, all I saw was a man and a baby who were mine, and a ring on my finger that symbolized the promise of a new chapter.

I stepped up to them, gently kissing Adam’s forehead, then Maverick’s lips. He smiled against my mouth, murmuring, “You’re mine, princess. For real this time. No one can take that away.”

I leaned my forehead against his, inhaling the scent of leather and the faint baby powder. “Yes,” I whispered. “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

And as the sun set, I felt a calm I’d never known before. Together, we’d rebuild our lives, a real family, no lies, no blackmail, just love strong enough to face whatever came next.