Page 133 of 23 Hours

Mine.

Flesh and blood. Same eyes. Same hair. Or at least what it used to look like when I wasn’t as old as dirt.

My first child, not of blood, the one who gave me a reason to live, to care and give a damn about somethin’ other than sex, booze, and bikes, escorts my grandbaby and Dom down the aisle. Or attempts to, as they stop to greet half our guests. I make eye contact with my honey-eyed goddess. The tattooed beaut winks, far more confident than me, as my pussy-ass lets the waterworks flow. I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. A sweet, lopsided smirk ticks up at the edge of Kit’s luscious red lips before she mouths,I love you.

Christ.

Swallowin’ thickly, I rub the handkerchief across my eyes to stop this cryin’ shit.

“Fuckin’ breathe,” Big growls, not a fan of feelings. “Breathe.”

Through my nose, I draw in a chest full of air, before blowing it out through my mouth. It does fuckall to quell the nerves, and I can’t think of a single reason it matters. Stepping side to side, I fiddle with my SS ring, but I don’t stop watchin’ my woman.

Once Leech reaches us, little basket in hand, I kneel to kiss her cheek before I ruffle Dom’s hair and untie Kit’s ring from his little pillow. I slide it up my pinkie for safekeeping. My baby doll, all grown up, steps before me, her bright, blue eyes shimmering with unspent tears. I do what I gotta do and pull her into my warmth. Her head against my chest, arms around my middle, she utters so only we can hear, “I’m so happy for you both.”

Doesn’t that just take the fuckin’ cake? She’s happy. I’m happy. I kiss the top of her blonde mop and say as much. “Me, too, Baby Doll. Me, too.”

When we’ve gotten our fill, Bink steps back, rockin’ a bright watery smile, and finds her spot to sit in the front row, a blanket stretched out on the grass in front of her for Dom and Leech to play.

Returning my attention to the reason I’m here, Kit and Adam step onto the runner, white-and-black flower petals scattered before them. The mice in my gut start to gnaw like feisty bastards. Fuck, that’s my wife. Yep, this is real.

Music starts from a speaker I had Blimp set up for this moment, to the clip of the song I pictured her walking down the aisle to. The idea came to me last week, when I ordered her shirt, sittin’ in my office, listenin’ to my old records.

“Here Comes My Girl”, by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, serenades the crowd as my woman nears, her arm linked in our sons. She’s breathtaking—black skirt, t-shirt, boots, and that hot-as-sin garter I’ll remove later with my teeth.

’Cause here comes my girl.

Yeah, she looks so right.

She’s definitely all I need tonight.

Big doesn’t bother with customary shit when Adam hands off his mom and takes the vacant seat Bink saved for him.

I don’t bother with customary shit either when I draw my woman in for a kiss before we get started. She falls into me, her dainty hand between my pecs, mouth on mine. The brothers crow their approval from their seats. I grin against her lips as Kit laughs, light and sweet, full of life.

Sipping from lips I’ll never tire of, cupping an ass that makes me rock hard, I take what’s mine and then some. What’s better, Kit lets me. Her tits mashed to my abs, I grip the back of her neck and consume.

Growin’ uncomfortable, Big gruffly clears his throat. “Brother.”

Fine.

Fun sucker.

Discharging an impatient growl, I separate me and my woman to make this official. Kit’s lips are swollen, her cheeks the perfect shade of pink, as her chest heaves for air alongside mine. Knowing we can’t do this boring, hand-in-hand, leave-a-space-for-Jesus-between-us bullshit, I fit us together once more. I’m polite about it. For the families here. Even though I know she can feel the steel length of my cock on her belly as I cuff both hands around the sides of her neck. Gaze locked on gaze. Just the two of us doin’ this.

“You ready, love?” Caressing the underside of her chin with my thumbs, I make sure, ’cause after this, she can’t back out. It’s done. We’re bonded for life.

Those expressive, steadfast eyes speak without words. She’s ready. I’m ready. The club is here as our witness.

Standing tall, as if he isn’t already large enough, Big clears his throat. “Dearly beloved—” he starts, and I cut him a swift, unimpressed stare.

The asshole winks, far too pleased with himself. “As I was saying…” He clears his throat again and imparts a wisdom only the sarcastic fucker himself could bestow. I ignore the lot of it, too focused on Kit and her amusement at his ridiculousness. The crowd eats his antics up in spades.

Our vows are simple. A blur of I dos and promises to give her orgasms, ‘cause Prez needs to be thorough. Hers comes after, same as mine. Only sucking my cock is involved, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at this level of marital promises.

“You’re a fuckin’ dick,” I whisper under my breath, only it’s not a whisper. It’s a growl, and Big loves it, as do the brothers.

Yucking it up, the man shrugs up a single, innocent shoulder. “You wanted me to marry you. I’m marryin’ you.” Big’s long, brown eyelashes flutter, ever full of shit.

---