Page 22 of Stitch & Steel

Twenty-Two

LOGAN

It still catches me off guard sometimes—the way the cabin feels like home now.

Not just a place I’m watchin’ over. Not just a job or a promise to the club. But home. Because she’s here.

Bella.

Hell, I still get hit by it in the middle of the night—how one summer flipped my whole world. And now? I’m planning something I never thought I’d want. Something permanent.

A life with her.

Gran saw it before I did.

After her hospital stay, when she was feelin’ steadier and meaner than ever—cussin’ out her IV like it personally offended her—she pulled me aside. Handed me a weathered leather bracelet. Said it belonged to the man who once made her believe love could ride fast and die slow.

“He was good to me when life wasn’t. Reminded me I was more than the world gave me credit for,” she’d said. “That’s what you do for her, Logan. You see Bella—all of her. Not just the fire, but the soft.”

She pressed the bracelet into my hand and gave me this look. Fierce and knowing. “You already got my blessing. Just don’t wait too damn long.”

That woman’s got a sixth sense when it comes to love. Or maybe just her granddaughter.

So I’ve been planning.

Waiting until the danger passed. Until the threats were cleared. Until Bella stopped sleeping with one eye open and started humming again in the mornings.

Fall came fast this year, turning the trees around the lake into a watercolor of fire and rust. Felt like the right time. The only time.

I pulled some strings, called in favors—hell, even Bear offered to string up fairy lights if it meant getting her to say yes. The plan’s simple:

A bonfire at the lake. Her friends—Kasey, and college friends—think they’re just coming to hang out, toast marshmallows, maybe sing a little if the mood’s right. My MC brothers will roll in like it’s just another chill night off duty.

But when the fire’s high and the stars are out, I’ll walk her down to the shoreline—the same damn spot where I first realized I was screwed. That day with the fishing rods, her smart mouth, and those freckles I couldn’t stop staring at.

I’ll drop to one knee, boots sinking into the damp shore, and give her the heirloom ring she doesn’t even know about.

I already designed her wedding band. White gold. Twisted band. Etched with mountain vines and tiny flames. Like us.

The moment I ask her to be mine, it won’t just be about love. It'll be about survival, about choosing each other in a world that hasn’t always made that easy. It'll be about forever.

And if she says yes?

The whole thing turns into an engagement party. Bourbon. Music. Laughter. Maybe a few MC boys jumpin’ in the lake, clothes and all.

Gran’ll be there too—rocking in her chair, wrapped in that blanket Bella swears she didn’t knit. She’ll be smirking like she knew it all along.

Because she did.

And damn it, so do I now.

I’ve done a lot of things in the dark.

Fought. Bled. Patched brothers up on the side of the road with nothing but grit and whiskey. Held a dying man’s hand once and promised I’d find who did it. But I’d never once dropped to my knee for anything that wasn’t God, my Club, or survival.

Until tonight.

The sun had dipped low behind the mountain ridge, bleeding lavender and peach across the horizon like the world was holding its breath.

The same meadow where we’d made love that first night—candles now flickered in hurricane jars strung from trees, swaying gently in the breeze.

They looked like stars that had fallen to earth just for her.

Kasey was here, fresh off a drive from Charlotte, eyes already tearing up.

Bear stood off to the side with Scout, who was wearing a damn bowtie someone must’ve snuck on him.

The Club cleaned up—cuts on, hair combed, no open bottles or smokes in sight.

Even the Charlotte crew showed, respectful and silent. Everyone knew what this moment was.

And she hadn’t caught on yet.

Bella walked beside me, holding my hand, barefoot in a soft blue sundress that hugged her in all the ways that made my heart ache. Her eyes went wide when we stepped into the clearing, mouth parting like she was seeing something out of a storybook.

“Logan…” she whispered, blinking fast. “What is this?”

I squeezed her hand. “Our beginning.”

She turned to me slowly, brows knitting.

So I let go of her hand. Took a breath. And dropped to one knee.

Her gasp hit me harder than a punch to the chest.

“I don’t have a speech,” I said, voice rough, heart hammering harder than it ever had before a fight. “I just have the truth.”

I reached into my kutte, pulled out the velvet box. Opened it.

The family diamond glinted under the candlelight—Gran’s ring, tucked right in her closet all those years. It felt heavy in my hand. Sacred.

“I didn’t expect you, Bella Grace. You showed up with your smart mouth and your soft heart and knocked my whole world sideways.”

Tears tracked down her cheeks.

“I love you,” I went on, throat tight. “I love the way you fight, the way you forgive, the way you make everything feel real and right. You saw me when no one else looked past the kutte and the scars. And you made me believe I was worth loving back.”

A hush had fallen across the meadow. The only sound was the whisper of wind through grass, and the sharp inhale she took when I said her name again.

“Bella. I want to build a life with you. Grow old in these mountains. Raise babies who know how to bait a hook and bake with their Gran. I want it all—with you.”

I held up the ring, my hand steady for the first time all day.

“Marry me.”

She fell to her knees in front of me.

Threw her arms around my neck.

And whispered, “Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

The crowd erupted, but I didn’t hear them. All I heard was her laugh, her breath, her heartbeat pressed against mine. I slid the ring on her finger—my hand shaking now, not from nerves but because I knew this was the most important thing I’d ever done.

We kissed under the trees while candles flickered and Scout barked like he was celebrating too. Gran stood near the edge of the clearing, eyes bright, tears running freely, clapping with more energy than she’d had in weeks.

She looked at me and mouthed, “You did good.”

And for the first time in my life, I believed it.