Page 46 of Sparrow

Groaning, he rolled his eyes. “Are you serious? We’ve been connected at the hip for the past seven days. Do you really think I’m going home without you?” He folded his arms over his chest and lifted his brows, waiting for her answer.

He even tapped his foot for good measure.

“I, uh, I—” She looked down at the seat rest and then up at him again. “I didn’t—you didn’t—”

Approaching her, Romeo took the cushion out of her hands and dropped it on the bed beside his duffel. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him again. “I’m all healed up. I can ride both youandmy bike now. And just like my bike, I don’t want to go another day without you. I want you on my bike. That seatback, it’s yours. It means that the seat is yours. No one else’s. You don’t want it, you keep that rest. No one else is going to sit there.” Clearing his throat, he stepped back and crouched so he was eye level with her. “I want you to come to Montana with me. I want you to be my Ol’ Lady.”

Sure, it wasn’t a question. He didn’t ask her, but he also didn’t order her. He wasn’t demanding it from her, he was telling her what he wanted. It was up to her if she would accept it.

“I’m not going to waltz into church and claim you if you don’t want it,” he clarified. “I’ve seen how that goes.” He grinned. “Doesn’t work out too well for the guy in the end.”

At that, she gasped a look of pure horror on her face. He laughed, because while it might have been too soon for the joke, it was perfectly timed in his mind. As her hand cracked against his arm, he only laughed harder, sure that if she still held that backrest, she’d be hitting him with it.

Taking her hands in his, he squeezed them before pressing his lips to her forehead. “So,” he prodded. “What’s your answer?”

There, now he’d actually asked her a question.

“Uh,” she croaked as her eyes scanned his face. The look on her face was far too adorable and he should’ve been nervous she’d say no.

They’d only actually been officially dating a week, but what they had, it’d been between them for nine years. He didn’t want to play any more games. He didn’t want to waste any more time. There wasn’t anyone else for him.

“Sparrow Malone.” He was half tempted to go down on one knee, but then he’d thought that’d be pushing it a bit too far. “Will you be my Ol’ Lady?”

“Yes.” The whisper escaped her and he almost didn’t hear it.

Tempted to ask her to repeat herself, he wasn’t prepared when she started squeaking.

“Of course!” she squealed before jumping up against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and smothering him in kisses.

Chapter 29

Romeo

With his duffel in one hand, and Sparrow’s hand in the other, Romeo led her out of the room, and down the hall. Spotting Clark, he grinned. “Brother,” he called out as he continued to walk

The new VP turned and returned the smile seeing the two of them together. “You finally giving me my room?” he asked, gesturing to the bag.

“Yeah.” Romeo squeezed Sparrow’s hand. “What are the odds of having church called? I have business.”

Glancing toward Sparrow holding her padded sissy bar and then back at him, Clark rolled his eyes. “See Bowie. I’ll see who I can wrangle up.”

Leaving her at the bar with Dixie, the unfamiliar nervous jitters fluttered in his stomach. The bikers could block his claim on her. As a daughter of the club, Romeo would need a unanimous vote from the men who attended church. These men didn’t know Romeo from the holes he’d left in their walls.

Their only experience with him would be the brawl with Pipes. Scanning the men hanging around, he wondered who had sided with their fallen brother. Would any of them vote it down? Steeling his face, he trotted to Bowie’s office.

The man had to be knee-deep in shit. The patch over was more than just changing patches on their cuts and logos on their tables and walls. He had a small empire to restructure, rebrand, and it would take years to fix. With his fist in the air, prepared to knock on the door, it occurred to him. He’d been worried that the brothers might vote down his claim, hell, Bowie could deny him the opportunity for a vote.

“Either knock and ask to come in, or get the fuck away from my door,” Bowie wheezed from the other side.

While it seemed pointless, since the guy knew he was there, he did it anyway. He lifted his fist and tapped it against the grain of the door. “Can I have a minute?”

“Give me twenty minutes, that’s about how long it will take for the brothers in the area to get here,” the president said without opening the door, or granting him entrance.

**Sparrow**

Slippingonto a stool at the bar, Sparrow knew her mother would be there. True to form, Dixie came out of the club kitchen a few seconds later, cigarette hanging from her mouth, carrying a rack of freshly cleaned glasses. “Little bird,” she greeted once she saw her daughter.

“Hey.” Sparrow offered an awkward half-wave as she proceeded to braid and unbraid a section of her hair.

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