Lowering me onto my feet in the centre of the room, I feel too many eyes on us, but I don’t look at anyone but Ringo. My husband.
The moment music blasts through the speakers, everyone cheers, and Ringo chuckles, his smile broad as he takes in his family watching on.
It’s not just his sisters and mother. It’s the club members as well.
All of them watching… waiting.
It doesn’t take long for me to recognise the song, and I can barely contain my smile as Ringo pulls me in, sliding one hand around to rest on my lower back, and the other lifting mine as he stares into my eyes.
“Really?Aerosmith?” I giggle, and he nods, proud as hell.
“Club tradition, Angel.”
I snort another laugh, mainly at the obvious generation gap there is between us and our taste of music, and then, just as Steven Tyler’s voice spills through the speakers, Ringo starts to sing along.
It’s low. Raspy. And just for me.
And I melt.
Ibarely register all the eyes on us as we sway together, like our bodies already know this rhythm.
This man.
His voice.
Only for me.
Is this a dream?
Is this really happening?
Is the most lethal man I’ve ever laid eyes on seriously singing the lyrics to‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’to me as we dance, surrounded by his club and family?
A tidal wave of emotion hits me hard, my eyes stinging, tears threatening to fall, but somehow, I hold them back.
I desperately want to deny my feelings for this man, because if I let myself fall… if I let myself love him… My heart will never survive when he walks away.
I’ve been trying so hard to fight it. To keep it buried deep. But right now, as he tugs me a little closer like he can’t stand even an inch between us, I know I’m already losing.
Maybe, I never stood a chance.
“I could stay lost in the moment,” he sings, “forever.”
My bottom lip starts to wobble, so I bite the damn thing, not wanting him to see how weak I am when it comes to him.
“Where a moment spent with you,” he leans closer, pressing his forehead to mine as he sings, “is a moment I treasure.”
Suddenly, the whole room erupts, belting the chorus, the sound loud, wild… and perfect.
A laugh bursts from me, even as a few tears escape, my gaze taking in the bikers surrounding us, all of them holding up their beers, yelling the lyrics with zero shame.
Ringo spins us suddenly, and more laughter spills from me as his playful side kicks in.
Before I know it, Doxies and Southern Sadists are joining us on the makeshift dance floor, the chaos electric around us, yet all I can focus on is him.
Dropping my hand, Ringo pulls me in close, so tight I can feel exactly what kind of effect this moment is having on him.
He’s hard. And he’s not even trying to hide it.