by Devney Perry
“Well?” Emmett asked as he closed the door and took my hand, leading me to the bedroom.
“You were right.” His friends had deserved every ounce of his faith.
He shot me a smirk and tucked me into his side. He didn’t drag me to bed like I’d hoped. Instead, he brought me to the closet, where he took a hoodie from a hanger and tugged it over my head. Then he pulled on his own sweatshirt, swiped my hand again and towed me to the deck.
Past the overhang, the railing was dusted with snow. The air was crisp and the night dark, the stars fighting to peek through the clouds that drifted by on the calm breeze.
Emmett sat in his chair, making room for me between his legs.
I settled into the seat, leaning against his chest.
There’d been a lot of good conversations here. Also some not so good. The last had been the night of the clubhouse.
We hadn’t sat out here since, even after unpacking yesterday.
Proving he had a direct link to my brain, Emmett held me tighter. “Doesn’t matter.”
“We should talk about it.”
“Someday,” he whispered. “But not tonight.”
“Okay.” I relaxed into his chest, not wanting to ruin the night.
“How about right there?” He raised a hand and pointed to the small clearing in the tree line. It was beyond the boundary of his yard, not that you could see it with the snow, but I’d spent enough time here that I knew the yard like it was my own.
I guess . . . it was my own.
“Right there for what?”
He shifted us, pushing me so that I leaned against one arm while his hand dove into the pocket of his jeans.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, maybe a key to the house or something, but a diamond ring was not it.
“How about we get married right there?”
My mouth fell open as he picked up my left hand and slid it onto my ring finger. The solitaire jewel caught the warm light streaming from inside. The platinum band was studded with smaller stones that sparkled as bright as the stars that chose that moment to shine through.
“Ace . . .”
“That a yes?”
I twisted to look at him, his handsome face blurring with tears. “Yes.”
He flashed me a blinding smile that disappeared when his lips crashed on mine.
Five months later, when the forest was teeming with wildflowers and the smell of spring infused the air, we stood in that clearing.
Emmett made me his wife.
He became my husband.
And we stepped into the future, forging a life together, and leaving the past on the road behind us.
Epilogue
Nova
Five years later . . .
“There are so many.” I took in the sea of motorcycles crammed into the lot at the garage. More waited on the street.
“Over fifty.” Emmett stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my chest as he took them all in.
“I’m proud of you for doing this.”
He dropped his chin to the top of my head. “Dad would have loved it.”
“He’s watching. Draven too.”
“Yeah. I think he is.”
The door to the garage’s office opened and Dash strode out with Bryce close behind. Both wore huge smiles and mirrored sunglasses for today’s ride.
Presley came out next, walking to where Shaw sat on his own bike beside us. “Be safe.”
“I will.” He kissed her cheek, then laid his hands on her belly.
Pres was eight months pregnant with their third baby so she’d be staying at the garage, taking charge of prep for the barbeque that would follow the ride.
Scarlett came out of the office last, walking over to say goodbye to Luke, who was riding Emmett’s bike. Luke didn’t ride much but it had meant a lot to Emmett that he’d come on today’s trip. That his friend had volunteered to bring his bike so that Emmett and I could ride Stone’s.
“Have fun.” Presley cast a longing glance to the crowd. “I wish I could go too.”
“Next year,” I told her.
“Definitely.” She nodded and rubbed her huge belly. “We’ll be here when you all get back.”
Genevieve and Isaiah emerged from the apartment above the garage’s office and started down the metal staircase.
Their daughter, Amelia, came rushing out behind them. Next came Seraphina, and the girls giggled and whispered in each other’s ears as they descended the stairs. Those two were inseparable. Not just friends, but best friends.
Our crew had grown over the years and with the kids so clustered together in age, there was always someone to play with. There was always a friend. Sure, there was the rare fight and as they became teenagers those would probably grow in frequency, but we were close and the arguments never lasted long.
Bryce, Genevieve, Presley, Scarlett and Cass were sisters of my heart. Like the men were all brothers. It had taken time to let go of the past, but we’d all put in the work. Now, this was our family.
And today was an important day for us all.
The kids would hang out at the garage today while the adults were on the ride. The apartment above the office was staged as kid central, with a TV and video games and board games and books and art supplies. The older kids had room to run and explore while the little ones had a place to crash.
“Where are Zeke and Xander?” Bryce scanned the crowd as she came to stand beside Dash’s bike.
“I saw them disappear behind the shop with a football,” I said.
“Sounds about right.”
Asher, Genevieve and Isaiah’s son, had been with them, along with Presley and Shaw’s son Nico. Noah, their four-year-old, was in the apartment with his cousins Parker and Simon. Mary, Scarlett and Luke’s oldest, would probably join the girls later, but it was no surprise that she’d rushed around the building to play football with the boys. Of all the kids, she loved sports the most.
Cass’s red hair caught the sunlight, shining copper and orange as she came down the stairs with her and Leo’s two-year-old, Farah. Behind her, Cherie emerged with Talulah holding on to one hand and Neal on the other.
The sight of my children put a smile on my face as they carefully moved down the stairs, coming to give us a sendoff.
Emmett let me go and bent as our four-year-old daughter spotted him, then sprinted into his arms. He tossed her giggling body into the air, her dark hair fanning out as he caught her. “Hi, princess. You be good for Grammy, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Mama.” Neal toddled my way and I swept him up, kissing his cheek before settling him on a hip. He pointed wildly to all of the bikes. “Bike. Bike.”
“Yes, those are bikes.”
“Bike.” He pointed them out, one by one. “Bike.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Emmett pulled Cherie into a sideways hug.
“Of course.” She smiled and took in the crowd. “This sure is something.”
There were happy tears in Cherie’s eyes when she looked at me. As far as mothers-in-law went, I’d scored the jackpot. Not only was she an amazing grandmother to my kids, but she loved me like her own.
“All right.” Dash clapped his hands and straddled his bike. “Should we do this?”
“Hell, yeah.” Emmett set Talulah down and I passed Neal on to Cherie, waiting as they made their way to the office door and out of harm’s way.
Dash glanced over his shoulder and smiled at his brother, Nick, and Nick’s wife, Emmeline, who’d come to town for today’s ride. Then Bryce climbed on the back of Dash’s bike.
It was time to ride.
Dash started his engine first. The minute I was on the seat behind Emmett, he started his. The noise was a chain reaction, starting from the front of the group to those who’d parked back where the clubhouse had once been.
The roar of the engines was deafening under the July sunshine. The vibrations from the motorcycles behind us shook the earth.
“This is awesome!
” Bryce shouted, her voice barely rising above the rumble. My friend looked as beautiful as ever as she turned her head to the blue sky and laughed.
Today was the first annual Clifton Forge Motorcycle Club charity ride.
Pride swelled in my chest as Emmett turned to Dash. The two friends—two brothers—shared a look that made it hard to breathe.
This ride was for their fathers. For Draven. For Stone.
Leo waited on Dash’s other side with a hand pressed to his heart.
Dash gave Emmett a nod. Then another to Leo. Then he twisted to kiss his wife before holding one arm in the air.
The engines behind us revved and if the noise had been loud before, it was otherworldly now. It felt like Mother Earth herself was here with us, giving us her hum of approval.
Dash’s hand dropped to a handlebar and he shot out of the parking lot, Bryce clinging to his waist as they started down the road.
“Ready, baby?” Emmett asked over his shoulder.
“Ready, Ace.”
“I love you.”
I kissed his cheek. “I love you too.”
Then we were off, racing down the street.
Leo appeared at our side, keeping pace as we caught up to Dash and flanked his side. Cass smiled at me as she pressed her cheek to Leo’s spine.
We’d all come to the garage early today to start setting up. While we’d been folding bandanas to give to today’s riders, Cass and Leo had announced she was pregnant again with their third baby. She wanted a boy so badly that I prayed she got her wish.
Isaiah and Genevieve rode behind us. Genevieve’s smile lit up her pretty face. Beside them rode Luke on Emmett’s bike and Shaw on his own.
Emmett’s hand dropped to my thigh, holding it there as we rolled through town toward the highway.
The plethora of riders behind us was nothing short of amazing.
At Christmas this year, we’d been sitting around at our house, letting the kids play with new toys, when the guys had started to reminisce about the good times they’d had with the club. Nearly every story had centered around a ride or trip and the fun they’d found along the road.
As the conversation had evolved, it had been Bryce who’d suggested they create a new club.
That day, the Clifton Forge Motorcycle Club had been reborn.
It was a tribute to Dash’s grandfather, who’d started a club of the same name years and years ago, before it had turned into the Tin Gypsy Motorcycle Club.
There was no clubhouse. There were no meetings. This new club wore no patches.
We were all in our regular clothes today, though I’d swapped my heels for the pair of boots I wore on our longer rides. Emmett had tied a black bandana on his head, trapping his hair out of his face. My own was braided down my back to keep it from tangling.
We were simply riders today, joined by others from across the state to raise money for the Slater-Stone Memorial Foundation.
It was an organization that we’d started just months ago as the idea for this new club had started coming together. The money raised from this inaugural ride would go to kids in the area who wanted to go to trade school, to learn to be mechanics or welders or plumbers. The programs were endless and if it helped kids pay for their education, it would be money well spent.
I’d taken the lead in forming the foundation. My practice specialized in business law, so I’d happily volunteered to tackle the legal aspects.
After I’d moved to Clifton Forge, I’d taken six months off of work. I’d spent that time planning our wedding and reflecting. Healing.
Emmett and I had spent long hours talking about both the Tin Gypsies and the Arrowhead Warriors. He’d shared his stories and I’d shared what my father had told me. And after it had all come out, slowly and unhurried because each conversation came with an influx of pain, I’d discovered that most of what Dad had told me had been a lie.
Whatever his reason, whether to manipulate me or because those stories were Dad’s warped version of events, it didn’t matter. Too many lives had been lost, so I’d put it behind me.
We all had.
I’d decided to start my own practice, not wanting to completely forsake my education. Maybe law school hadn’t been my idea but I’d worked my ass off to graduate and pass the bar. Maybe I didn’t love my job, but it was a good job and since my practice was a practice of one—me—it allowed me to work from home. To stay close to my babies.
Because the job I truly loved with every fiber of my being was being a mother.
Three days a week, we had a nanny come over to watch the kids while Emmett and I worked. The other two days, Cherie insisted on babysitting. And because I was there, my office in the basement and just a floor away, I didn’t feel like I was missing out on their lives.
Talulah and Neal were our priority and work simply a means to ensure they had a head start in life.
The sun shone down on us as we rode toward the highway. I breathed in the summer air, glad there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. This ride would last a couple of hours, a big loop around the county until we came back to Clifton Forge for a barbeque.
The place where the clubhouse had been was now an enormous cement pad complete with an overhang. It was full of picnic tables and benches. The guys had built a firepit on the lot and put in a playground for our kids.
Tonight’s barbeque was catered. There’d be a roast pig and kegs and live music. Dash, Emmett and Leo had insisted that we throw a party Draven and Stone would have been proud to attend.
But I knew, even if the only riders on the road had been the three of them, their fathers would have been proud.
“You good?” Emmett called over his shoulder as we followed Dash onto the highway.
I answered with a kiss to his shoulder. To the place where he’d put the tattoo of our children’s names. Mine, he’d tattooed across his heart.
With a quick smile over his shoulder that told me we were about to take off, I held him tighter.
And then we flew.
Together.
We’d always been stronger together. Unbeatable.
In the five years since we’d been married, I hadn’t heard from my father. There’d been nothing from any of the Warriors and as the years ticked by, I believed Dad’s promise. He’d let go of his revenge.
For me. Because I’d asked him to.
I liked to think that he loved me in his own fucked-up way.
My sister and I had spent long hours debating if we should reach out to our half-sisters in South Carolina, but in the end, we’d decided not to. They didn’t know about us, and no matter what relationship they had with our father, it would only bring pain.
Besides, we had each other. Though I didn’t get to see May as often as I would like, we talked on the phone a few times a week. Her kids were growing as fast as my own and our annual summer trip to Missoula to spend a week with them was coming in August. Mom was already preparing her house for our invasion.
The countryside passed in a streak of green fields, blue mountains and blinding smiles. Dash and Bryce were in the lead, then behind us were Leo and Cass. We’d all formed a single line. A trail of riders behind them stretched for miles.
“I love you,” I told Emmett, leaning close enough he could hear me over the whipping wind.
“I love you.”
Then I kissed his shoulder once more, holding tight with my legs so I could let go with my arms and feel the wind, like I did on all of our rides. Like I’d done since the beginning when I had yet to realize that the man I’d been meant to ride through life with was Emmett.
He’d set me free.
We’d set each other free.
His queen. And my Ace.
Want more of Nova and Emmett?
Click HERE to download a Bonus Epilogue.
Turn the page to read a preview to Indigo Ridge.
Preview to Indigo Ridge
Enjoy this preview from Indigo Ridge, book one in the Edens series.
WINSLOW
>
“Could I get another . . .”
The bartender didn’t slow as he passed by.
“Drink,” I muttered, slumping forward.
Pops had told me that this bar was where the locals hung out. Not only was it within walking distance of my new house in case I decided not to drive, but I was a local now. As of today, I lived in Quincy, Montana.
I’d told the bartender as much when I’d asked for his wine list. He’d raised one bushy white eyebrow above his narrowed gaze, and I’d abandoned my thirst for a glass of cabernet, ordering a vodka tonic instead. It had zapped every ounce of my willpower not to request a lemon twist.
The ice cubes in my glass clinked together as I swirled around my pink plastic straw. The bartender ignored that sound too.
Main Street had two bars—tourist traps this time of year, according to Pops. But I regretted not choosing one of those to celebrate my first night in Quincy. Given his attitude, the bartender, who must have thought I was a lost tourist, regretted my decision too.
Willie’s was a dive bar and not exactly my scene.
The bartenders downtown probably acknowledged their customers, and the prices were listed on a menu, not delivered using three fingers on one wrinkled hand.
He looked about as old as this dark, dingy building. Like most small-town Montana bars, the walls were teeming with beer signs and neon lights. Shelves stacked with liquor bottles lined the mirrored wall across from my seat. The room was cluttered with tables, every chair empty.
Willie’s was all but deserted this Sunday night at nine o’clock.
The locals must know of a better place to unwind.
The only other patron was a man sitting at the farthest end of the bar, in the last stool down the line. He’d come in ten minutes after I’d arrived and chosen the seat as far from me as possible. He and the bartender were nearly carbon copies of one another, with the same white hair and scraggly beards.
Twins? They looked old enough to have established this bar. Maybe one of them was Willie himself.
