Page 83 of Doozer

“Forever.”

I snorted. “Oh, okay.”

“I am.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We’re transferring to the Savannah chapter.”

“What do you mean, we?” I demanded.

“You need to be close to the team, I need to be close to you, so Minus and Taxi made a deal and compromised with Savannah. We are both patching over… together. That is, if that’s what you want.”

I could no longer hold back the tears. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, honey. Are you okay with that?”

“Hell, yes, I’m okay with that.” I gripped the lapels of his jacket again. “We really get to be together?”

“We really get to be together,” he confirmed, and leaned down to kiss me again. “Now, you ready to dance with me, slow like?”

“I’m so, so ready to dance with you, slow like.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around me, and guiding me onto the dance floor.

As I slipped my hand into his, he held me close and we rocked together as couples waltzed around us. Neither Doozer nor I knew how to dance, so we just let our love for each other dictate our rhythm.

I couldn’t believe how incredibly blessed I’d been with this epic love, but I knew in my bones I would never take it for granted.

EPILOGUE

Trouble

One year later…

IWALKED INTO the Burning Saints Sanctuary on the outskirts of Savannah and headed straight for the kitchen. I had a six-pack of beer and it needed to be chilled before the family night tonight.

“Hey, Trouble,” Ronnie said as she walked into the room just as I slid the beer into the fridge.

Ronnie was Zaius’s old lady. Zaius had been the Savannah chapter president for almost as long as Cutter, god rest his soul, had been president out in Portland. Now that Minus had taken over Portland, it was an adjustment transitioning from the new class of biker back to old school. At least, I was used to Cowboy, but Doozer had a bigger culture shock than I did.

Well… sort of.

There had apparently been a bit of a hard sell situation when it came to me being part of the Savannah chapter. Zaius was old-school and women in MCs wasn’t something he thought was a good idea. But both Minus and Zaius wanted Doozer in Savannah and Doozer was very clear we were a package deal, so Zaius had relented.

It took me a few weeks not to feel like I was only there because my man was the valuable commodity and that was mostly due to Ronnie. That’s not to say Doozer didn’t try to put my mind at ease, but he was a phenomenal artist when it came to custom bike builds and the Saints were having a hard time keeping up with the demand. A mechanic, no matter how good, was somewhat a dime a dozen, but I had something none of them had.

A vagina.

And a way of speaking to my fellow sisterhood that was not mansplaining, so it actually didn’t take long to show the other bikers that I was needed.

I had originally planned to just sit back and do my thing quietly under the radar, but Ronnie had suggested a different way, and that way was to shove my femininity in their faces, while showing them my mechanical prowess. It had worked, and the brothers had come around a little faster than I expected.

And although I couldn’t prove it, I think Ronnie had also worked behind the scenes to make the transition easier for Zaius, which in turn trickled down to the men.

I could not, however, get out of wearing the bracelet all the old ladies wore. It had a panic button with built-in tracking device. Should anything happen to one of us, our men would be able to find us immediately. I had no idea how Taxi would feel about this piece of tech strapped to me at all times, but I figured what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Since Doozer was all about equal rights, he wore one as well, although, he didn’t mention it to the men. His looked quite a bit different than mine, so no one had questioned him about it, and we kept it between us.