Page 45 of Her Biker Daddy

“Getting big, Poppy Law and Unky Cash are watching him tonight so we can have some time alone,” Everly says with a grin as the guys’ brows lift at the names. “He’s as much their baby as he is ours it feels, but I don’t argue when it means being able to spend time with daddy.”

“We’ll take him back and deal with him,” one of the other men suggests but no one will learn anything if I allow that to happen, and no way will I begin to look weak towards anyone.

“You can have what’s left of him when I’m done,” I counter, and the man struggles beneath me, letting me rear back and land a blow to his face, which only urges me to keep going. I toss him onto his feet and head for him as he staggers, landing blow after blow, and when he stumbles towards Everly, my girl sinks her knife into his side, not to kill him although I’d gladly do it, and he drops to his knees with a groan holding his side.

I put him down entirely with a kick to his face and I pull Everly into my arms, laying a kiss on her lips as she smiles up at me, that sweet innocent little grin filling her eyes.

“I think daddy needs to look his little girl over, make sure there aren’t any bruises he’ll have to come back and avenge, don’t you, baby girl?” I state as the others attempt to get over to us to drag the moron away.

“Please daddy. That mean man touched me and I didn’t like it. I only want daddy to touch me,” she says, and I pick her up, carrying her out and straight to our room, before stripping her piece by piece, until I can sink entirely inside her sweetness, and take it hard as she clings to me.

She shatters and I follow her down into the perfect spot, the place where only we exist, and I hold onto her tight. I’ll never let her go. Never let anyone threaten her, hurt her. She’s all mine and that’s the only way I ever want it to be.

**For bonus scene set before Epilogue skip toLittles Sleepover**

Epilogue

Everly

The boys come running down the hall and I cross my arms over my chest, giving them a hard stare. They instantly stop running, sheepish looks on their faces that match their daddy perfectly, and it makes my heart fill with love for them every time I see them. Even if they are as ornery as you’d except boys growing up in a biker club would be.

Linc is now my double-digit little man and it’s hard to believe Tate and I are on our eleventh anniversary of when he first brought me home this weekend. Some days it feels like just yesterday that he gave me the key that opened this incredible world where I could be daddy’s little girl, where daddy really was my daddy. Other days I know just how long it’s been because of all the heart stopping scenes we’ve created together in our playroom, but also when I see my boys together like this.

Linc was followed two years later by Carter, making him eight now. Hayes joined us two years after that, and two years after that we had Tyler making them six and four. The only boy that’s not in the hallway is our two year old Zach who’s finishing a nap.

With five boys I figured we were done but last year, Tate teased me into trying one more time for a little girl, and now, our sweet little Kennedy is three months old and an absolute doll. Tate’s completely obsessed with her in the sweetest way, and he says he just knows her hair is going to be curly like mine. She’s the only one of our babies that has red hair, but she also got his blue eyes just like all the boys have.

My pregnancy and birth with her went fine, but once she was here, we agreed we were done with having babies. Tate got a vasectomy, so we don’t have to worry about birth control or accidents now and I know that’s going to open things up even more for us.

As much as I love my boys, five is more than enough. If it wasn’t for Law and Cash, I might lose my sanity sometimes, even with the boys being absolute angels for their daddy.

I knew Tate would be an incredible dad, but seeing it come to be, just makes me love him more. He treats them with the same love and guidance he’s always shown me, disciplining them when it’s needed—just in a far different way than when daddy punishes his little girl. He’s still daddy to me and when we get time in the playroom, it hits even deeper.

“What have you been told about running in the hallways?” I ask them, as Law and Cash come down it to reach us. We’re still in the clubhouse and have no intention of moving out, even if we have had to ensure access to some areas are restricted so the boys don’t walk in and see something they shouldn’t or hear something they shouldn’t.

“Sorry Mom, but Unky Cash said he and Poppy were watching us tonight and they had the new Space Chasers movie,” Linc says excitedly.

My attention flows back to them, and Cash holds up his hands in apology. The boys love the movies. They’re a more kid friendly mix of Star Wars and Star Trek. The last one came out right after Kennedy was born and we missed getting to the theater to see it.

“That still doesn’t mean you run down the hallway, especially in a pack. Any one of you could easily trip and fall, and bring down all of you,” I remind them, ushering them into the house so they can grab their pillows and blankets they swear they can’t sleep without as I move towards the nursery where both Kennedy and Tyler are asleep.

“We’ve got them,” Law says, as I start to shuffle things together. “We have diapers and clothes and all of that over in our space. You go and enjoy your anniversary.”

“The only thing we need to grab is the milk for the little doll. We’ve got this,” Cash adds, calming me because tonight will be the first time we’re ‘away’ from her overnight. It’s crazy since they’re literally just down the hallway from us, but it’s a mama thing.

“Thank you,” I tell them after we manage to transfer them from the beds in the nursery over to the one set up in their place without them waking.

I give all of the boys kisses before giving them a little wave, and I head back to our place and get dressed. I slip a long jacket on over the outfit, so no one sees it as I head out to the car, a laugh slipping out when I get a text from Tate asking where I’m going before I’m even off the property.

After the kidnapping, he insisted on being able to find me, anywhere, anytime, and I didn’t argue over it. He slipped a beautiful ring onto my finger a week after we met with the State Police, telling me it had a GPS chin imbedded in it, as did the handle of the new knife he got me to replace the one we left at the manor. He tagged on that he was making the engagement we’d both alluded to with others a real thing and a week after that, he slid a wedding ring on my finger as well and I definitely didn’t argue over either of those things.

The club still runs Jackson Distributing, which in turn keeps us safe from threats. The town’s not so corrupt any longer and the cops are petrified to go anywhere near me—and not because they know I was the one that actually killed the Jacksons. No, they’re afraid of doing anything to upset me because Tate will come after them, and I love it. I love having a strong daddy that loves me enough to kill for me.

Each anniversary Tate gives me another piece of jewelry, all of them with trackers of course, so it’s no surprise that he knows I’m leaving the property. I shoot him back a message using the voice-to-text function with a little white lie, “Needed to get the kids’ vitamins. They’re watching a movie with Law and Cash, and I thought I’d take a few minutes to myself to run and get them, so I don’t obsess over it.”

You know you’re supposed to tell me before you leave, baby girl. Daddy will discuss that with you later, right now, be safe.

“Always,” I respond, smiling as I reach town and I browse through the store, grabbing vitamins to help sell things then make my way back towards the clubhouse with one minor detour. I pull off at the old Wilkens’ driveway and get out. No one’s come near the place since what was left of the cops was discovered nearly six months after Tate killed them. The State Police were gone by then and there wasn’t enough remaining for them to figure out what happened. The sheriff chalked it up to another murder by Thatcher and they moved on. In fact, everyone’s pretty much moved on from trying to find him—at least around here. He’s supposedly on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, but he’ll never be found, and we sleep just fine knowing that.

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