Page 58 of Wild Night

The question doesn’t come out of left field, at least not for me, but it is for her. She was gone the whole time Posey and I had our thing. Not that it was a long, drawn-out affair, but still, there was intensity, and everyone at the club felt it. Especially when we found out there was more to her story. But Dakota wasn’t here for any of that, so she wouldn’t know to ask that question, not unless Bullet mentioned something.

“I do,” I simply state.

“Bring her back here. This is where she belongs. I can feel it. The same way I knew this was where I was meant to be.”

She leaves without saying anything else, and I don’t call her back. Instead, I think about her words. She’s right. This is where Posey belongs. Specifically in my house. As my old lady and hopefully my wife.

A thought I never fucking imagined in a million years I would have.

And yet, here I am, having it. Wanting it. Craving it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

IVY

“When will we meet her, son?”my father asks.

As I sit down to dinner with them, I can’t help but wonder when Posey will be back. Shocker called me two days ago and said she was good to come home. That she wanted to come home. I’m not sure how I feel about it now that it’s all said and done.

No, that’s a lie. I know exactly how I fucking feel about it, and I’m pissed off at myself. I feel like a gigantic pile of shit for not going after her. I should have. I was too fucking busy thinking with my head on that one. I should have followed my instinct and my dick and gone after her—protected her.

“As soon as she’s moved back here.”

My mother’s eyes widen. She doesn’t say anything, as is her way. She’s lived as part of the club life for so long that she knows when to speak and when to keep her lips pressed tightly together. I’m sure she’ll give my dad an earful later.

“You’ll both like her,” I say, giving them all I can offer.

My father clears his throat, his gaze focused on mine, his fork suspended in the air. I go out to dinner with them once a month at my mother’s favorite restaurant, which is not in Thunder Rock but instead in Greensboro.

It’s a grille but considered fine dining. She likes to sit outside in what I call the greenhouse because it’s got plants and shit everywhere, and the roof is all glass. She fucking loves this shit, so I bring them here to spend a little time with them and make her happy.

“I’m sure we will,” my mother murmurs. I almost burst out laughing because I can tell that it almost pains her to say that.

“How did you meet? What does she do?” my father asks.

My father is not a snob. Neither of my parents is. My father was part of the Vicious Reapers for years. He has the same tattoos beneath his sports coat that I do. He’s partied at the same parties. Drank the same beers. Probably fucked some of the clubwhores back in the day, too. I don’t know those details, and I’ve never asked.

But all of that aside, my father was an attorney. My mother had been a paralegal. They want me to marry someone who fits in well with them, with our entire family, personal and motorcycle.

So I can sense their hesitation at the fact that I’ve mentioned this woman whom I’m going to make my old lady, when they’ve never heard a single thing about her until today. All they know is that she’s from California and moving here.

“She’s Bishop’s wife’s aunt,” I begin to explain.

My mom’s brows rise. They were invited to the wedding but chose not to attend. That part of their lives is over, and while they know they can come to the clubhouse any time they want, they have decided to lie low since my father’s retirement.

And by lie low, I mean they travel all over the world—a lot. They are enjoying every second of not having any major responsibilities after having worked their asses off for decades.

“So she’s family,” my father states.

“She’s family.”

“Her career?” my mother asks.

I could lie to them. I could say a dozen different things, but I know that honesty is the best policy. Always.

“She was working for a winery heading their wine club management. I think she was in charge of their social media, too, but I’m not quite sure about that.”

“So, will she continue to do that here?”

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