Page 87 of 12 Months of Mayhem

“What if Tucker doesn’t like you?” I countered.

Tank shrugged. “Then I’ll wait him out. I’m not going anywhere.”

I blinked. “Really? You told me you’ve never had anything make you want to stick around.”

“That was until you, mama.” He stepped in and wrapped an arm gently around my waist. “I can’t explain it. But the second I saw you that night when the pump wasn’t working, it changed. I wanted you. And you were meant to be mine.”

I looked up at him. Really looked. Into his eyes. And saw it all written there. Truth. Emotion. Certainty.

“So you weren’t lying when you told that drunk guy I belonged to you?”

He shook his head. “That was the damn truth, mama.”

I glanced at the flowers. “And those? Are those backup?”

He held them up and shook his head. “Nope. These are for you. For Mother’s Day.”

My heart melted.

“Happy Mother’s Day, mama.”

Tucker and my mom always did something for me on Mother’s Day. Diamond, too. But I’d never gotten something from a man. From someone who saw me as a mother and still thought that was something worth celebrating.

My throat went tight. My eyes teared.

“Uh, thank you,” I whispered and reached for the bouquet. They weren’t anything special—wildflowers and grocery store blooms—but they meant everything.

“So,” he said, watching me carefully, “you okay with me staying?”

Was I okay with Tank staying?

I was more than okay. Hell, I could chain him to the bed like Diamond had suggested.

“I mean, yeah. But… what happens when you feel the need to roam? Wander?”

Tank gave me a crooked smile. “I’ll just take you and Tucker with me. Vacations. Road trips when school’s out.”

“You think that’s—”

He stepped in again and cradled my face with his big hands.

“I think that’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. You.”

“Tank,” I whispered.

He kissed me, gentle and sure. No rush. No heat. Just deep and honest and real.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine. “What do you say, mama?”

Chapter Thirteen

Tank

Seven Months Later

“What do you think?”

Tucker stood in front of me with his face scrunched in concentration as he reached up to adjust the flower pinned to my shirt. “You look good,” he said with a firm nod.

---