Page 147 of Prince Charming

Not so much cleaning up their messes. Damn, two tiny humans could wreck a house in the blink of an eye. Most nights, when they were dumped into bed, he and Marianna collapsed exhausted onto the couch.

One night she was curled on his lap, playing with his hair, watching one of her kissing movies, and she asked. “Are you sure this is the life you want, Luke?”

“What do you mean, darlin’?”

“Me and the kids. I know it’s not the party life you’re used to. Dinner and bedtime stories aren’t exactly something you’d expect a biker to enjoy doing.”

Nervously biting her lower lip, she looked as though she expected him to grab his coat and head for the door.

Instead, he flipped her over on his lap and spanked her a few times for even daring to suggest this wasn’t something he wanted.

He’d fight feral fucking dogs to keep them.

He already considered everyone under that roof his family.

Don’t ask him why. He didn’t have answers.

The moment he set eyes on them, it was as if the connections started to tie Tag and those kids together.

“Don’t want to hear another word on that, got it?” He said afterward, rubbing her sore peach-shaped butt. She purred and pushed her face into his neck. Guessing she was about to start something up now he’d made her soaking wet. “Yes, Luke.”

Being a stepdad wasn’t a job he thought he’d want.

But he thrived in the role.

Even when they were little turds, screaming and throwing themselves down in the middle aisle of the grocery store. Holy shit, that was an experience. While Marianna tried to cajole Lily up from the floor, Tag, with Pasha attached to his leg, grabbed her up by her coat and tossed her over his shoulder. She cried only for a minute while she bounced up there, Pasha giggling and yelling to his twin in Russian.

Sure, they got looks while he tossed food into the cart. People could fuck off. This was his family. And they were perfect.

Today was the first day he’d looked after the kids on his own. He encouraged Marianna to take Galina shopping for her birthday. As he was learning, kids got bored… so damn easily. So he got them into snow coats and walked their little butts down to the local park to tire them out.

While he was there, he took a call from Rider. “What’s happening, Prez? Don’t tell me, you got cold feet for your upcoming nuptials and you want me to help sneak you across the Mexican border?” He joked.

“Sure, if you want Zara to cut your dick off.”

He heard the queen of his club protesting in the background.

They talked club shit for a few minutes, his eyes never leaving the kids playing a few feet away.

Every hackle he had rose to the surface not long later. “Prez, I gotta go. Some fucking clown put his hand on my kid.”

Striding across the snowy park, Pasha was picking himself up from the floor.

His temper was barely containable. “You touch my boy again, we’re gonna have problems, pal.” Warned Tag as Pasha clung to his leg, hiding his face. He rested a hand on the mop of his hair to let the boy know he had his back.

“He pushed my kid.”

“He’s a goddamn baby, and they’re just kids playing. You put your fucking hand on him.”

The guy looked like a boring investment banker, grabbed his kid by the hood of her coat and pulled her away. Stinking of fear.Good. He should fear Tag. “Then keep your biker kid away from mine.”

Biker. Kid.

So the guy had taken notice of the insignia on the back of Tag’s jacket.

Little shithouse.

Tag grinned dangerously. He only had to take one step forward as a warning to get the guy scurrying out of the park.

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