Page 49 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

“No.”

I turn back to Polk, smirk still in place, “I’m more interested in riding you for the rest of our lives.” The room is chaotic as everyone laughs and cheers, claps and stomps. Polk bends down, lifts me up with his hands on my waist, and smashes his mouth to mine. We kiss as we smile, all teeth and tongue and pure joy.

“I’m gonna make you so happy, Quinn. I promise.”

“You already do, Bently.”

Madison coughs loudly, “Ahem.” Polk chuckles, extending an arm out to accept the box his President hands him. “Polkrequested your cut a while ago, Quinn. However, as is my right and the right of my officers, we changed your road name.”

“Pres—”

I press my hand over Polk’s mouth. “Bring it on, Madison,” I challenge, much to Madison’s amusement.

Polk sets the box down on the table, removes the top, and pulls out a black leather vest with the Congressionals MC liberty bell skull on the back and a property rocker for Polk. Polk must read the name they’ve bestowed upon me first because his head snaps up, teeth bared, and he growls at his President.

“Settle down.” I pat Polk’s shoulder, take the cut from his hand and hold it up close to my face so I can read it. “You motherfuckers!” I laugh and ugly cry and bounce on my feet. With shaky hands, I slip my arms through the cut and proudly straighten it over my shoulders.

Audrey stands up across the table, rests on her hands and leans forward to get a better look at my cut. Her little growl is adorable, as are her shaking fists of fury, and foot stomp that accompanies them. “SPASTIC! You guys are a bunch of freaking buttholes!”

“Pet—”

“No! That’s just wrong.”

Clay happily adds, “The other contenders were Nocturia as a nod to her son’s inability to keep his hands out of toilets, Twitch, and Myelin Sheath, MS for short.”

Madison steps close to me, whispering in my ear, “If it bothers you, we can change it.”

“Don’t you dare.” I surprise him by wrapping my arms around his middle and hugging him. He’s stock still for a few seconds before returning the hug with gusto.

“You’ve been a part of us all along. Polk just made it public.”

“Thank you.” I step back, wiping under my eyes to catch the stray tears.

“Alright, everybody, sit the fuck down, we’ve got something else to discuss.” Madison calls everyone to attention, resuming his seat at the end of the table, Betty to his side. “Polk.”

My ol’ man (AHHH! That’s so awesome to say!) sits down and pulls me onto his lap. “In four weeks, we will be hosting a charity poker run in your honor.”

I’m touched, truly, but I don’t need anything, I’ve got all I need right here in this building. “That’s not necessary.”

“Bitch, the money ain’t for you,” Stacy sasses with a grin.

“Oh.”

Polk glares at their end of the table, “Hayes, control your woman.” Stacy stands to probably scratch Polk’s eyes out but Hayes draws her onto his own lap and holds her hostage. She ain’t complaining. Polk pinches my chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing my attention. “The money raised will be to establish funding for patients and their families who require housing for treatments, ambulatory services, travel, home improvements, etc. It will be called the QFW, and we want you to head it. Eventually, it can be branched out to accommodate others with similar debilitating diseases.” I’m…speechless. My jaw drops and I honestly don’t know what to say. This is incredible. Unexpected. Humbling. My brain immediately starts firing off ideas. “Stop,” Polk whispers into my ear, biting my ear lobe after. “We’ll figure it all out later.”

I nod, then one question makes its way through the maelstrom of possibilities. “What is QFW?”

Ford slaps his hand on the table, “Quinn FUCKING Walker.”

“Oh, yeah?” I look down at Polk. “Walker? I ain’t a Walker.”

“You will be.”

“Is that so?”

“You got three months to plan a wedding. You will be my wife, my ol’ lady, and you will bear my last name.”

I shrug casually, though my insides are liquid goo. “I guess.”

---