Page 10 of The Biker’s Savage Desire (Chaos Brothers MC #4)

Mae

Five Years Later

Rain falls heavy on the old tin roof that hangs over this little cabin in the woods.

I swear this place is magic. Somehow, five years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

I moved up here just two weeks after Red and I met.

We packed my whole life into Sheila’s truck bed and didn’t look back once.

We had a simple wedding on the banks of the lake off that little dirt road.

It was just us, the trees, and the sound of water lapping at the shore.

I wore a white sundress and bare feet. He wore his cut and a crooked grin that said he couldn’t believe I was his.

I was pregnant by our first winter together.

Snow fell thick that year, blanketing the world in silence, but inside this cabin, everything was loud.

Laughter, love, the crackle of firewood, the way he whispered to my belly like our baby could already hear the rumble of his voice.

We didn’t have much, but we had each other, and that felt like everything. It still does.

Red leans on the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in his hand as he watches our baby girl stuff Cheerios into her mouth a fistful at a time.

I tip toe in behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, dwarfing myself immediately in his presence. “If this rain stops, I was thinking we should take the girls down to the lake today, get them all tired out, and then tonight,” my voice is soft with mischief, “you get me all wet.”

He groans low in his throat that deep familiar sound that makes my stomach flutter. “Oh yeah?” His arms grip my waist as he spins toward me. His eyes are dark, playful, and hungry. “That sounds like a perfect day, though I’m not sure I can wait that long to get you all wet.”

I laugh, light and breathless, as he pulls me flush against him, biting my shoulder playfully. Somewhere down the hall, Emily, our three-year-old is giggling over something she probably shouldn’t be doing, but we let the chaos continue.

“You know what I’m thinking is a better idea,” he growls, his breath warm against the lobe of my ear. “I’m thinking we put these kids down for an early nap, and I get you all wet right now.”

I turn my head up to meet his gaze. “You think you can get these two down for a nap an hour early? During a rainstorm?”

“I do,” he groans, shoulders back, more confident than ever. “Watch this.” He kisses my forehead gently, then steps to the side, pulling Renee out of the highchair with a kiss before calling for Emily. “Come on girls. Time to listen to the story about the princess again.”

Emily jumps into the air over and over, pig tails swinging as she screams, “Yes, Daddy! I love that story!”

He scoops Emily up in the opposite arm as though both daughters are made of feathers and popcorn. Technically they are, but I couldn’t pull off a double scoop like that.

I smile and follow my little family into the backroom where we’ve added on a bedroom for the girls. It’s a rather large space with soft pink and white quilts, an abundance of stuffed animals, a spot for their embroidered aprons, and the soft scent of lavender from last night’s bath.

Red settles between them, his arm around each of our daughters, their little hands curled onto his shirt like they’re never letting go.

“Once upon a time there was a cranky old man, named Grumpelstiltskin. One day, he was riding his motorcycle deep into the woods when he came across the most beautiful girl in all the land.”

Emily gasps like she’s never heard the story before. Our youngest giggles and tucks her face into his chest, copying her sister.

Red keeps going, weaving the tale like he always does. “The man who thought he was too grumpy to love, and the woman who proved him wrong with every laugh, every kiss, every heartbeat.”

I lean back against the doorway, lost in the moment, brushing tears from my eyes. Not of sadness, but tears from the overwhelming fullness that a life with this man has provided.

It’s hard to believe he ever had a violent bone in his body. Nowadays, we spend our time caring for the girls, getting lost in each other’s arms, and selling candles at the farmers’ market on Saturday.

He glances up and smiles, and for a second, the whole world stills, like he too feels the magic of this cabin, of this place, of this wild growing between us.

I wipe my tears and step into the room, curling up beside my family.

And as the rain sings on the roof and his voice carries on, I close my eyes and let myself believe, not in fairytales, but in the truth of this one.

Because I was the girl, he was the grump, and this… this is our forever after.

THANK YOU FOR READING.

READ MACI’S STORY HERE.