Page 52 of Hero: Claimed

Finally, Blue and I set to work outside. Four hours later, we’re frozen, the snow and wind picked up about thirty minutes ago. We’ve done just about all we can do. “Okay, brother,” I say. “I have to go grab Brin. I don’t like her driving in this.”

“I’ll make sure the finishing touches are ready.”

“Thanks, man.” I give Blue a pat on the back. It’s been hard without Blaze, but we’re managing.

I hop in my truck, cranking up the heat, and head back down the mountain to get my woman from work.

I text her:Out in the truck. It’s warm.

A few minutes later, she pulls the door shut behind her, wearing the new UGG-style boots Hannah had picked out for her, along with the sleek, thick wool- and faux-fur winter coat. It’s black and ties at the waist and looks sexy as hell. She has on the wine-colored knit beret and earmuffs, and wine Isotoner gloves I got her, too. Every time I see her, I think,how did I get so fucking lucky? And today is no different.

She jogs over to the truck; I pop the door for her so she can just slip in and buckle up.

“Hey, babe,” she says breathy and shivering.

“Bird,” I answer, and lean in to kiss her. Moving my hand to grip the back of her head, I pull her in to deepen an already perfect kiss. I got it bad for this woman.

Then I shift into drive and take my woman home.

The compound is darker than usual because the brothers made sure not to have the outdoor lights lit. Without Brin seeing, while Griff opens the gate for us, I send out a mass text for the Lords to ready.

Then, as I turn into our parking spot, the Christmas lights blink on all at the same time. Our home, Duke’s, Scotch’s, Crass’s, the clubhouse—it’s blinding. There are inflatable lawn ornaments on all of our lawns and one of the guys even hooked up speakers to play holiday music. Brothers, old ladies, hot mamas, and kids file out into the cold to see the spectacle, but mostly they do it for Brinley. Jade and all the babies, their eyes light up. Their smiles are so huge, I secretly can’t wait for when Brin and I have a couple of our own. We’re not ready for that yet, but someday.

Brin jumps out of the truck, her face exactly like Jade’s. Like she just discovered that magic exists in the world. Tears form in her eyes as she spins in a slow circle, taking in each house on the property and the clubhouse.

“It’s just likeChristmas Vacation,” she whispers to me and I can’t wait any longer. I pick her up and kiss the shit out of her.

“It’s all for you, baby,” I whisper in return, with my lips pressed to her ear. “Never seen the compound this lit up before.”

“I can’t believe you remembered,” she continues to whisper, her eyes are shimmering in the light and she keeps twisting her head every-which-way like she can’t decide where to look next. Then to everyone else she yells, “Thank you! Thank you all so much for doing this.” I move my lips to press against hers again, allowing me to taste her tears.

As it’s so cold, we all begin to funnel back into the warmth of our homes. I had a dinner of store-bought rotisserie chicken, a mushroom risotto from the deli, and a salad on the table waiting for us, courtesy of Blue helping a brother out. We even have hard eggnog to sip on along with hot tea, a delicious lemon-ginger brew that happens to be one of Brin’s favorites, too.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” she says, staring into my eyes, a smile taking up the corner of her lips. “I still can’t believe you remembered.”

“Bird, I’ve told you before and one day you’re gonna believe me—the days of you not getting what you want are over.”

Brinley stands, folding her red, paper napkin with the holly leaves on the table and walks over to me—a festive touch I thought she’d appreciate. She leans in to hug me. There’s a lot communicated in that hug. It’s not sexual, not to start anything. It’s love, plain and simple. I hold her back, reveling in this one perfect moment.

Once she lets go, she sits back down to continue eating. I let her discuss work, the weather and what Christmas specials will be airing tonight. I even answer when appropriate, but in my mind, I’m thinking that tonight is our very first Christmas Eve dinner. We have a lifetime more to come. And I almost let this slip through my fingers.

“Levi?” Brinley asks.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

I smile because what I’m about to say is the honest to God truth. “I’m great, baby.”

After dinner, we snuggle on the sofa, watching cheesy Christmas movies until I can’t take one more big-city, suit-wearing executive being dumped for the small-town, plaid-wearing Christmas tree farmer and switch off the TV.

“Hey,” Brinley says, protesting the move. “I was watching that.”

I’ve got something better. Pulling her up by both her hands, I lead her into the bedroom and then it’s on. I bring my lips to hers, moving my arms around her waist, and walk us toward the bed. She’s walking backward, her hands sifting through my hair, but when the backs of her knees hit the comforter, she lifts one bent leg and then the other on top of the mattress, scooting us but never releasing my lips. My sweet, innocent old lady has a naughty side and it’s my job to give her the safe space to let it flow. Though I’ll take Brinley however she wants to give herself to me. Tonight, it seems she wants to go slow. I don’t actually know if I can handle slow. I ambeyondready for this sexy, sensual woman. I’m the lucky bastard who gets to celebrate her body and all the ways that she moves for me. The littles gasps or mewls or moans she makes—all for me. Only for me. In her entire life, those have only been for me.

She runs her hands down the length of my torso until hitting the hem of my T-shirt and she digs her fingers under the fabric so her warm hands touch my burning skin. That touch sears me. If we turned off all the lights and used an ultraviolet wand, her handprints would show up, she’s that hot.

And when she’s ready for my shirt to go, she wastes no time lifting it up over my head, tossing the fabric to the floor. My kisses become harder and I cup her face to really get in there while she unsnaps the button on my jeans, unzipping them and pulling down on the denim. She hooks my boxers along with my jeans, shimmying them down at the same time.

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