“We’re gonna get a poker game going tonight, you in?” Ky continues to wrestle with Breaker, tightening his chokehold.

  “Not tonight, kid. Got plans.” I place my phone screen-side down and take a sip of my whiskey.

  “Again?” Ky is both baffled and annoyed. We haven't been spending too much time together since Kristen waltzed into my life. “You got some ole lady you ain’t tellin’ us about?”

  I scoff, swallowing the warm liquid as calmly as possible. Am I that obvious, or does Ky just think like his ole man?

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then come on, old timer, show us what you’ve got,” he challenges me, releasing Breaker from his hold.

  “Be careful who you’re callin’ old,” I warn. “I can still kick your ass.” I turn to face him on my stool. “In poker and a fight.” Ky doesn’t back down. He never does, nor ever has. Not once, even when he knew he had no chance of winning. His spirit is wilder than a stallion. It’s one of the things I respect most about him. He squares right off with me, the scar across his right eye prominent and threatening.

  “Then don’t bitch out. Five-card stud, five-hundred dollar buy-in in the back of the club tonight.”

  My index finger twitches on my thigh. Ky knows the right things to say to get my blood flowing. A gambling man like myself usually never turns down that kind of proposition, but I have a bigger pot at stake if I don’t meet Kristen tonight.

  “Nice try, but another time, kid.”

  “Pussy?” Ky eggs me on, and the entire room goes quiet.

  Is he being fucking serious right now? Challenging the president of this club and his father no less?

  “I’d watch who you’re talking to.” I stand to my full height. That used to really intimidate Ky, when he was little, but now the fucker is only an inch shorter than me. It doesn’t work quiet as well anymore.

  “You don’t scare me, Pops.” Ky’s smile grows wide. He’s looking for a fight. Just like me at his age. I never fucked with the wrong people though. Okay, that’s a complete lie. The badder, the better was how I lived life. Stupid, young, idiot. Ky isn’t as reckless as I was, but he’s still just as young and just as stupid, even if he is a highly decorated war veteran. That’s one thing not on my resume.

  “Step aside before I embarrass you in front of all your friends.” My voice rumbles, low and threatening, like a lion. ’Cause I am the king of this motherfucking jungle.

  “I think I’m the one who might embarrass you. You’ve been like a ghost around here, Pops, and everyone wants to know why.” Ky puts me on the spot. That little fucking shit.

  “I don't have to explain a damn thing to you or anyone else. I’m the Prez, and what I do or don’t do doesn’t concern you.” I poke him right in the chest. As much as I want to rearrange Ky’s face right now, I’m going to keep my cool. Kristen is one secret I’m not ready to share. Not with anyone, even my son. She’s different. She would never fit into this world, and I would never ask her to. I don’t exactly know where that leaves us, but I’ll figure it out. I’m slowly getting torn apart, living two different lives simultaneously. The president, leader, and manager of the Baum Squad MC, and the person I am when I’m with Kristen. Just Gerard. A mechanic, a father, a biker. A nameless, faceless man who thrives on the open road with a magnificent woman clinging to his back.

  “What did you tell me once? Lies spit the fuel and secrets spark the flame?”

  “It ain’t nuthin’ like that, kid.” I grab the rocks glass off the bar top and shoot the last bit whiskey before sliding my phone into my back pocket. I’ve got somewhere to be. “Out of my way, troublemaker.”

  Ky stands his ground, his blue eyes vigilant, wary, curious. I don’t usually keep anything from my son, so I get why he’s acting like this, but I’m the elder here, so I don’t have to explain a damn thing. Parents have secrets too, even if they can spark a flame. I don’t intend to let that happen. I just have to figure out a way to keep the conflict at bay.

  It takes Ky a few drawn-out moments to finally move. We never break eye contact, and no one is dumb enough to step between us. I admire my son, I respect him, he’s a good man, but I’m not going to let him devalue my role or deface my reputation just because he wants to know what his daddy is up to.

  “Smart,” I sneer.

  “I’ll find out, you know,” he hisses over my shoulder as I walk by. I pause and peer at him through the corner of my eye.

  “Maybe sooner than later.” It comes out more threateningly than promisingly. I slide my sunglasses down from the top of my head and stride toward the front door of the bar, each heavy step sending a message, leaving an impression.

  I am the motherfucking president, and everyone better remember it.

  Once I reach Kristen’s house, I’m a bit calmer. The bike ride chilled me out. I still want to ring Ky’s neck, but I’ll deal with my meddling offspring later. I know things are coming to a head. The last three months have been the most amazing of my life. And it’s all because of Kristen. She knows who I am, knows all about my colorful past, knows about the club, and yet she accepts me for who I am, not what I am. I was afraid to tell her. I didn’t want her to know, I didn’t want her to look at me differently, but as I fed her a little information at a time, the way she saw me stayed the same. I can’t explain how much of a relief that was. Not many things scare me, but losing Kristen is definitely one of them.

  I park my bike on the curb, and the first thing I notice is an obnoxiously expensive Benz parked behind her Corvette in the driveway. It’s definitely not a car I recognize, but it is nice as fuck.

  I drop my helmet on one of the handlebars, stride up the walkway, and jump the two steps to the front door. That’s when I hear it. The yelling. Kristen primarily. Without hesitation, I barrel right through the door to find Kristen and some guy in a stuffed suit in a heated argument.

  “I can’t make her see you! She’s an adult,” Kristen screams.

  “She’s my daughter, and I have every right to see her,” the man snaps back viciously, and I see red.

  “Hey.” I grab him by the throat and slam him right against the wall. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?” I don’t really care about his response; all I care about are his eyes bulging out of his head as I squeeze his scrawny neck.

  He chokes and coughs, and I feel the immense satisfaction as he turns red.

  “Gerard,” Kristen’s voice breaks through the static in the room. “Gerard, let him go. He’s not worth it.” She tugs at my arm, but I’m reluctant to let go. I want to send a message, and I want this douchebag to hear it the first time.

  “Gerard?” This time Kira’s soft voice floats down from the top of the stairs. I glance up at her to find wide, innocent eyes and a bewildered expression. This is not how I have ever wanted my girls to see me. But I won’t tolerate anyone hurting them, disrespecting them, or upsetting them. I show the douchebag to the door. Tossing him out right onto his ass.

  “Show your fucking face around here again, and I’ll rearrange it.” I slam the door, and the house shakes.

  With a huff, I turn around to find two beautiful faces with gaping mouths and wide, round eyes.

  “I take it that’s the ex?” I thumb behind me. Kristen told me all about him. Truth be told, I was hoping to have a run-in with him. Fucker deserves a good beat down after the way he treated Kristen and Kira. Sorta wish I got a few punches in, but I really didn’t want to ruin Kira’s birthday. Well, more than it already has been.

  “What?” I question as they stare at me. “Don’t expect me to apologize, cause I— oomph.” Both Kristen and Kira bum-rush me with a hug. I nearly fall over, but somehow manage to keep all three of us upright. They squeeze so hard my back cracks.

  Mixed feelings of overwhelming fulfillment and happiness blanket me. I wrap my arms around both of them and hug them back.

  “No one messes with my girls.” I kiss each of their heads. “Especially on their birthday.”

  “Well, this girl definitely needs cake now on her birthday,” Kira announces.

  “And ice cream,” Kristen adds. “Lots of it.”

  “Hell, yes,” Kira vehemently agrees. She heads to the kitchen, but Kristen hangs back.

  “Sorry,” she whispers.

  I grab her chin. “For what?”

  “Having to deal with him. Having to see that. I didn’t know he was going to show up. Kira doesn’t want anything to do with him, and he just won’t accept it. He wants to control her the same way he used to control me,” her voice softens sadly.

  “Hey.” I grab the back of her neck lovingly. “As long as I’m around, neither of you will ever have to deal with him. I can take care of it.”

  Kristen looks back at me speculatively. “As much as I want him to end up dead in a ditch, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I laugh out loud. “There are other ways to deal with people without offing them. I’m not exactly in that business, anymore,” I mumble.

  “C’mon, you two. I’m about to light my own candles in here!” Kira shouts.

  “You better not!” Kristen plants a kiss on my cheek and then drags me to the kitchen where Kira has a lighter hovering over all the candles in her huge, pink-flowered cake. The thing is three tiers high. “Give me that,” Kristen demands Kira hand over the lighter, which she does. “It’s my job to light those.”

  “And there are quite a bit,” I observe.

  “All twenty-one.” Kira smiles, bouncing excitedly.

  “Been looking forward to this birthday, have ya?”

  “Totally.”

  “Okay, ready?” Kristen turns off the kitchen lights, and the whole room turns orange from the glowing tower of icing.

  “Happy birthday to you,” Kristen starts and then I join. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Kira. Happy birthday to you!”

  Kira takes a deep breath and then blows as hard as she can, hitting each and every lit candle until they are snuffed out.

  I flick the kitchen light back on.

  “I hope you made a big, fat wish.” Kristen puts her arm around Kira’s shoulder and gives her an adoring kiss.

  “I did.” Kira looks straight at me and smiles. The girl is really cute as a button.

  Kristen picks out all the candles.

  “Okay, I have to go get ready,” Kira announces.

  “Wait, what?” Kristen pauses with a handful of birthday candles.

  “Yeah, I’m going out. I’m meeting Meghan and Tristan at Lora’s house. We’re going drinking.”

  “Ah . . .,” Kristen tries to stall. “What about cake?”

  “I’ll eat it for breakfast. You two enjoy.” Kira kisses her mother on the cheek and then does the same to me before fluttering right out of the room.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to for her to be twenty-one yet.” Kristen looks at me adorably worried.

  I slide along the white kitchen island until I can reach her. Placing my hands on her hips, I pull her against me and press a reassuring kiss on her lips. “She’ll be fine. Worst part about having kids. They grow up.”

  “So true,” Kristen pouts cutely. She’s freakin’ makin’ me melt.

  “Wasn’t there some famous guy who said let them eat cake?” I swipe some frosting from the side of the cake and hold my finger up to her lips.

  Kristen smiles sweetly, and I know my distraction tactics are working. She licks the frosting off my finger, and every nerve ending in my body lights up. It’s definitely her effect.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I steal some frosting for myself. This sugary shit ain’t bad.

  “For . . . everything. For being here. For Dex.” She rolls her eyes. “For just being you.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like me.”

  “What’s not to like?”

  I scoff. “I can give you a list.”

  “You’ve got a lot more to offer than you think.”

  “I’m an ex-con who loves to gamble, owns a garage, and is an MC president. Stellar resume.” I throw up the okay sign.

  “Oh, that’s not how I see you at all.” Kristen bats her long, thick eyelashes. “I see a strong man who’s confident, funny, and sexy as fuck. Who doesn’t take shit from anyone and fights for the people he loves.”

  “I do fight for the people I love.” I give her that.

  “Also, underneath that that rugged, tattooed exterior” — she leans in close and whispers seductively in my ear — “is a big softy.”

  “I’m only a big softy when it comes to you.” I slide my hands down her back and squeeze her ass. Kristen squeaks. It’s cute as all hell. “I’ve never been with a woman like you. You’ve ruined me for life.”

  It’s the god’s honest truth. There will never be another woman for me after Kristen. She’s the one I want for the rest of my life. I’ve been wrestling with this realization for a while, but when she’s in my arms, just like this, I know she’s my future. And the club? It may become my past.

  “Aww, you two kids are so damn cute.” Kira makes a reappearance. I nearly choke when I see her outfit. The hem of her mini skirt barely covers her ass.

  “That’s what you’re wearing?” I clear my throat.

  “Yeah, you like?” She spins around, her long blonde hair kicking up at the ends. “It’s Chanel.”

  “It’s . . . short.”

  Both Kristen and Kira laugh. “You look beautiful, baby.”

  That she does. Way too beautiful. An almost-parental protectiveness takes over. “You have my cell phone number, right?”

  “Of course, why?” Kira asks.

  “In case anyone fucks with you. You call me straight away.”

  Kira smiles up at me. She’s so damn adorable. And way too innocent-looking for that skintight dress.

  “Thanks, Gerard.” She gives me a big hug. “It feels good to be cared about.”

  “I do care about you, darlin’. Just as much as I care about your mom.”

  Her cheeks blush. “Okay, I gotta go. Don’t eat all my cake,” she orders cheekily.

  “Promise,” Kristen assures her.

  “Can I have your car keys, Mom?” Kira holds out her hand.

  “What’s wrong with your car?” Kristen inquires.

  “Nothing. The Corvette is just so much cooler to drive. And it is my birthday. Pop-Pop would let me.” Kira lays it on thick.

  “Ooooh . . .” Kristen knows she was just kicked below the belt. That car means everything to her. It was the last thing her father gave her before he passed away. “The keys are in my purse.”

  “Thank you!” Kira pops a kiss on her mother’s cheek and hauls ass out of the kitchen like it’s on fire.

  “Kira, don’t let anything happen to Pop-Pop’s car!” Kristen yells.

  “I won’t.” Kira pokes her head back in the kitchen doorway. “Besides. If anything does happen to it, I gotta guy to fix it.” She winks at me.

  I shrug. This is true.

  “Bye!” She flies out the door and then it’s just us.

  “Totally the worst part about having kids is them growing up,” Kristen complains.

  “True. But it also leaves us with the house all to ourselves,” I insinuate deviously.

  ‘Yes, it does,” Kristen agrees. “Whatever shall we do?”

  “I have a few ideas. One being getting you naked,” I offer up a suggestion.

  “That sounds cold,” she toys with me.

  “You won’t be cold,” I promise. “Not with what I have in mind.” I slide my hands around her waist, then slip my tongue into her mouth. It’s on. After a few hot and steamy moments, I’m ready to move this upstairs. “You, bed, naked, now.”

  “You better keep your promise.”

  “You know I will. I always do.” I spin her in my arms and march her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Once in her room, I waste no time stripping Kristen out of her clothes. I’ve been with a lot of women, but none have excited me the way Kristen Kendrick does. None have had her passion, or sexiness, or quiet confidence. None have challenged me the way she does, to be more, to be better. She doesn't even realize it. I didn’t realize it either, until I started doing and changing things about myself. She makes me want more than just club life. She makes me want to see the world. I lost that spark so long ago. But Kristen rekindled it. She rekindled me.

  “That feels good,” Kristen purrs as I run the tip of my tongue down the curve of her neck. I know where and how she likes to be touched. I’ve spent the last three months exploring her body, learning her sounds, and memorizing the maps to her orgasms. It’s been one of my favorite journeys.

  “I’ll always make you feel good.” I urge her down onto the mattress, removing her very last piece of clothing. The black lacey underwear she’s notorious for.

  Peering down at her, I slide off my boots but leave the rest of my clothes on. There is something about a woman naked just for you that is so tantalizing. It’s a moment of ownership, of dominance. And there’s nothing more that I want than to own Kristen. I want to own every piece of her, every part. Her heart, her body, her soul. I want her to be my wife. That admittance makes my heart pound, because I have never wanted to be committed to one woman before, but for Kristen, I’ve thrown all my old ways out the window. For Kristen, I would settle down. I would follow her to the ends of the earth. I’m in so deep. So over my head, and I don’t even care. When I’m with her, nothing else matters. Not the club, nor my shop, nor any of the responsibilities I thought were so important. They mean nothing when we’re together. Kristen means everything.