Page 21 of Viper's Single Mom
I pushed her higher, her delighted squeals carrying across the park. Other families were scattered around—normal people doing normal things. Three months ago, I'd have never pictured myself here. Would have laughed at the idea.
"Viper!" Phoenix called out, approaching with Tank and Wraith. "Didn't expect to see you at the kiddie park."
"His natural habitat now," Tank teased.
Izzy jumped off the swing at the top of its arc, giving me a minor heart attack before landing in the sand. "Mr. Phoenix! Mr. Tank! Mr. Wraith! Watch what I can do!"
She proceeded to demonstrate her monkey bar skills while three dangerous bikers cheered her on like she was performing at the Olympics.
"Your old lady looks good in leather," Phoenix commented quietly, nodding toward Tara.
"Yeah, she does."
"Harrison's staying gone. Wraith's got eyes on him—moved his practice to Florida, telling everyone he wanted a fresh start."
"Good."
"She happy?"
Tara laughed at something Tank said to Izzy, her whole face bright with it. No shadows in those eyes anymore, no tension in her shoulders. The woman who'd walked into my clubhouse terrified and desperate was gone, replaced by this confident beauty who wore my patch like armor.
"Yeah. She's happy."
"What about you?"
Three months ago, happiness meant a successful run, a good party, my brothers safe. Now it meant breakfast chaos and bedtime stories and the way Tara came apart under my hands. It meant Izzy asking me to check for monsters and Tara wearing my patch and having something worth protecting.
"Never better."
The sun was starting to set, painting everything gold. Izzy had moved to the jungle gym, Tara spotting her from below. I joined them, lifting Izzy onto my shoulders when she got tired.
"Ready to head home?" Tara asked.
Home. Not her place or the rental. Home.
"Yeah. Let's go home."
We walked back slowly, Izzy on my shoulders playing with my hair, Tara's hand in mine. Normal. Domestic. Everything I never knew I needed.
That night, after Izzy was asleep, after I'd fixed the bathroom door and two other things Tara had added to my list, she stood in our bedroom wearing nothing but my patch on a chain around her neck.
"Is this okay?" she asked. "For around the house?"
I crossed the room in two strides, lifting her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around me immediately, and the feel of her—soft, warm, mine—short-circuited my brain.
"More than okay."
"Good." Her hips rolled against me, and I was lost. "Because I had some ideas about how to thank you for all that repair work."
She slid down my body slowly, deliberately, until she was on her knees. The sight of her there, wearing nothing but my patch, looking up at me with heat in her eyes—I gripped the wall to keep from grabbing her.
"Tara—"
"Shh." Her hands worked my belt, my zipper, freeing me with practiced ease. "My turn to worship you."
Her mouth was hot, wet, devastating. She took her time, using everything she'd learned about what destroyed me. Her hand wrapped around the base, working in rhythm with her mouth, and my vision went white at the edges.
"Fuck, sweetheart?—"
