Page 98 of The Belle and the Biker

When I get there, I could swear I saw my father's car parked up the street. Odd. I don't remember him telling me he'd come to Bitter End. Maybe it's just a car that looks like his.

I hurry into the diner—and stop dead in the doorway.

The diner is empty, which never happens. There are no customers, nobody behind the counter, and all the tables have been cleared away except one. Crash is sitting at that table, and in front of him is a vase with one big plastic sunflower.

The table is set exactly how he set it back in South Carolina. There are so many knives, forks, spoons, and water glasses on the table that there's barely room for the two plates. Sitting on each plate is a nice juicy steak; the aroma makes my mouth water.

I walk over to him slowly, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Crash smiles at me nervously. He stands up and then goes down on one knee.

Then he pulls a little box out of the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Um, Savannah, I…"

"Yes?" Damn it, I'm crying. I sniffle hard.

"Um, Savannah, I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of…." He clears his throat. I've never seen Crash look uncertain before.

"I'm not doing this right," he mumbles. He stares down at the floor and swallows hard.

"Get to it, son!" a voice yells from behind the swinging door that leads to the kitchen.

It's Tank.

I'm so grateful for that man. He's quickly become the dad that Crash never had.

Except right now, Crash doesn't seem to want his help. "I'll kick your ass, old man!" Crash yells.

"You'll try!"

He clears his throat. "Uh, your dad is in the kitchen too. I asked him if I could have your hand in marriage. He said, what took you so long?"

"The answer is yes."

"You didn't let me ask you," he says reproachfully.

I smile at him. "Yes, you're the handsomest man I've ever met."

"And you, Savannah Harkwell, are the most infuriating, beautiful, stubborn, sexy woman I've ever met. And I can't imagine my life without you. Savannah Harkwell, will you marry me?"

Tears flood my eyes.

"Crash McClanahan, nothing would make me happier than being your old lady for life."

Epilogue

Savannah

There's nothing like a June wedding in North Carolina. Daisy's family hotel was booked up forever, but they managed to find us a spot on a Friday, in the apple orchards, at a new pavilion they've built there.

Most of Bitter End is in attendance, while most of Sugar Hill is not. There are still a lot of hard feelings over the trust fund. I only feel a tiny twinge that my mother isn't there today. At least my daddy walked me down the aisle.

I'm wearing a dress designed for me by Harper—to accommodate my growing baby bump. I'm five months along, carrying twin little girls. Twin girls. There is so much hair braiding in my future! I feared Crash would want a son, but he's over the moon. He's purchased two of the world's cutest, tiniest black leather jackets. He's also stocking up on shotguns. So is Tank, their honorary grandfather.

Crash and I stand before the preacher, ready to say our vows.

I glance at Daisy, sitting in the front row beside Chase. She's so enormously pregnant that Chase had to help her sit down. I told her she didn't have to come, but she insisted. Chase, being the kind of guy he is, also has a doctor and nurse in attendance. They're sitting across the aisle in a linen suit and a lovely silk gown, respectively.

"This is making me very nervous."

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