Page 42 of Pound

“I’ll stay with them until you get back, sis.” Trip dropped a kiss on her cheek and followed her kids around the back of the building.

Something was up. Her kids were the absolute worst at keeping secrets. And they most certainly had one.

“What’s going on? Did you get them chickens?” Meri leaned to the side as if she could see the houses or beyond. Pound caught her around the waist and pulled her in tight.

“No, babe, no chickens yet.” He kissed her soundly but quickly. “You up for that ride?”

“I don’t know.” Her suspicion was at eleven on a scale that only went to ten. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Jooooooeeeee?”

He set his feet wider and leaned his torso back so they were eye to eye. “Remember when we talked about how we act versus how we want to act?” She nodded, still skeptical. “You said you’re a spontaneous person, but you buried it because of shit, right? Well, I say we unearth it.”

She didn’t have a clue what that meant.

“But—”

“Do you love me, Meri Adams? Because I sure as shit love the fuck out of you.”

“More than I thought I was capable of.” She meant every word. She felt the sincerity ripple across her skin as she spoke.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Excellent choice of words.” Pound spun her around, slapped her ass, and led her to his bike.

“Sit your sweet ass down and hold on.”

11

POUND

Pound debated his tactic the entire ride. Although Trip, Crissy, and James approved, would Meri? Did she need a big romantic gesture and a year to plan the perfect nuptials?

Nah. He dismissed the question almost as soon as it entered his mind. Meri had proven she was okay with his version of romance.

“Besides, I’m not giving her a choice,” he mumbled into his helmet as he slowed to turn in at their destination. Pound always said he’d never do it again, but there he was. They pulled under the awning. He set the kickstand and powered down his ride. He lifted his helmet off and stuck it on the handlebar.

When he turned to help Meri, he got his first glimpse of her reaction. She had her helmet off and was staring at him with awe.

The Elvis at the window didn’t interrupt their moment.

Thank fuck.

“So, what do you say we do this and get back so I can fuck my wife?” As far as romance goes, it was lacking, but it was him. If she was going to say yes, that was the him she was saying yes to. Not a suit-wearing nine-to-fiver who came home clean and only cursed on occasion. No, Pound was mostly unrefined, partially unhinged, and wholly unapologetic.

“I-I mean… can you?” Her voice was shaky, and Pound had a moment of doubt when a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

“I hope you’re asking about the marriage part and not the fucking part.” He smirked and took her helmet, placing it on the opposite handlebar before dismounting and turning to Meri. Pound couldn’t resist teasing her. He leaned down, caging her in with his hands on the seat, and leaned down to whisper. “Because I’m pretty sure I more than proved I can fuck.”

Meri laughed through her tears and smacked his chest playfully. “You know what I mean, Joe.”

He did.

The divorce papers were filed, and Lea didn’t seem inclined to rescind them over the legality of her signature.

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