Page 47 of Zeppelin (Satan’s Angels MC #9)

I would never have said I’d be one of those guys who could listen to a speaker and take notes, but I was wrong.

Putting the advice into practice is harder, but not nearly impossible.

It’s the guys at the club as well. Once I started changing, I also started to really listen to what they’d tell me when I asked them a question, but I also started asking the questions in the first place.

There are plenty of guys there with plenty of life experience.

They don’t have to be older than me to be full of wisdom.

Ginny’s parents have really helped both of us, in every way.

Not just with the house here, or with Jackson, but with our relationship and in our personal growth.

They’re highly educated, hardworking people who are slow to judge and quick to love.

I learned that right from the first. Ginny and I aren’t married and honestly, I’m not sure she ever wants the traditional route of the ring and white dress, but she’s my old lady, and I’m like a son to her parents.

Even her brother, who was more guarded about accepting me, came around.

We’re close with Bronte and Carver, and we spend as much time as we can with them.

Carver has his own shop in Hart, where he works on his sculptures, and even though I work long hours at the garage when I’m in Hart, I find myself there sometimes—over lunchtime, or early in the morning—just talking about life with him.

He’s a quiet guy who has been through a lot of shit in his own right.

Our childhoods were both hell. We don’t talk about that together, but I think it helps us get each other in deep, unspoken ways.

I was worried that I wouldn’t know what to do with a baby, but I have never known love like I did the first second I got to hold Jackson after he was born. It was instant and overwhelming, so deep and wild and awe inspiring.

“When you go back tonight, the guys are going to ask you about a club name again?”

They’ve been asking me for almost a year.

I roll Ginny over and she immediately wraps her legs around my hips. I kiss her deeply, silencing her sounds of pleasure by sipping them off her tongue like honeyed wine.

“Before I left,” I whisper against her neck, peppering it with kisses. “Odin, in all his infinite one eyed wisdom, pointed out that sometimes a name doesn’t get chosen. It chooses you. And sometimes, it sounds so damn made up that no one would ever believe it was your real name. Case in point…”

“Yours,” Ginny finishes.

“Mine.” I swirl my tongue over the shell of her ear and her breath catches. “Even if people still occasionally ask me if I’m named after the exploding sky balloon blimp airship thing.”

She squirms and tilts my face up, kissing me fiercely.

Jackson’s name just fit like that. When we went for the scan and learned that the baby was going to be a boy, I traced the photo after and sighed about him being Jack’s son in there.

Ginny wanted Jackson to have his own name, and so did I.

We never thought about calling him Jack.

He’s his own person. He’s not his father.

He’s not here to replace Jack. He’s his own bright light in the world. Jackson just stuck.

“Will you take me for a ride tomorrow? Bronte said that she’d be happy to watch Jackson when we come to Hart.”

I love that sometimes, she’s able to get away and spend a few nights at Bronte and Carver’s place. Jackson adores Ellie. She takes care of him like he’s her little brother, not her little cousin.

After I got back, it was obvious that the van was going to need a ton of work.

Aside from helping us out with this place, the guys have all lent a hand, on and off, getting the van whipped right smart.

They love poking fun at the project, but then, they’re always lining up to volunteer their time for it too.

Ginny asked me to get a bike with a second seat, but I did one better. I bought a vintage Harley with a sidecar. When she first saw it, she screamed.

In delight.

She ordered a set of old school goggles and a vintage inspired brain bucket.

She was so impatient, counting down the days until she could ride with me.

The bike had to be fixed up. By the time it was ready, Jackson was a month old.

Every time she comes to Hart, she makes sure that we have time to go for a ride together.

Bronte has been so kind that way, but so have the other old ladies.

There’s always someone who is so freaking happy to watch Jackson for an hour so that we can have some time together.

I don’t worry that he’ll be spoiled by all the attention he gets. It’s good to have people in your life. The more, the better.

We don’t have any animals here yet. Ginny wants cats and a dog, but we decided that since we want to travel, we need to wait.

It does make it easier for her to be able to come and stay in Hart for days at a time when we have nothing here that needs immediate attention.

The house is mostly run by solar now, and we can leave the generator running.

I got Wizard and Dravin to install cameras around every angle of the house and in the outbuildings that matter, so I can monitor everything when we’re not here.

This week, Ginny’s going to be staying until Friday. We make the split time work because she’s so independent herself, and understanding, and we have plenty of work to fill the hours when we’re apart, but we both still miss each other. Weeks where we don’t have to be apart are beautiful .

Ginny’s beautiful.

In every way.

She writhes underneath me, clawing at my boxers to pull them down, kissing me fiercely.

There’s no way I’m just going to give her a boring poke and roll off of her. That’s not my definition of a quickie.

I lift the blankets and slide beneath, kissing her collarbones, her breasts, her belly, all the way to the waistband of her pajama shorts.

“Zep,” she whisper-gasps, lifting the sheet to peer underneath.

I pause and look up at her. “Yes?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that I love you so freaking much.”

Normally, I’d make some asshole comment, asking her if she loves me, my mouth, or my cock, and she meets me with another witty comeback. We’re secure in our love and commitment, so we can make jokes like that.

This morning, I just give her the honest truth. “I love you, Ginny. Every part of you. All of you. I always will.”

Nothing can ever replace the loss of my brother, my other half. But Ginny completes me in a way I never thought possible. I found my ride or die, and I can’t wait to ride into the future with her and our son.

THE END