Page 63 of T-Bone
Chloe nodded, listening intently.
“I used to think motorcycle clubs were all leather and violence, I guess I put them in the same category as gangs,” I continued. “But it’s more than that. It’s family. Ellie’s amazing. She’s Diesel’s wife. She’s also an accomplished writer. Peyton is organizing a charity poker run for the local shelter. And Katey?” I snorted. “She’s a doctor, so if that doesn’t break the stereotype of the kind of women who hang out with bikers, I don’t know what will. All of the women are special in their own way, and I’m honored to get to know them.”
“Their old ladies,” Chloe said, the term still foreign on her tongue.
“They’re my sisters now,” I said, surprising even myself with how natural the words felt. “This weird, wild, ride-or-die sisterhood I never knew I needed.”
“It’s kind of beautiful,” Chloe said softly.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It really is.”
Gemma perked up then, holding up her finished picture with pride. It was a rainbow and a house and what looked like a slightly wobbly dog wearing sunglasses.
“I drew Auntie Faith and Uncle T-Bone’s house!” she announced.
“You got the crooked shutter and everything,” I laughed. “Very realistic.”
She beamed and went back to her crayons, humming a song under her breath.
“I’m glad you’re both close by,” I said to Chloe. “Steel City’s not far, but it feels like home now.”
“We wanted to be near you. I think… I think part of me needed to be close to someone whoknew.” She looked at me, her eyes glimmering. “You’re the only one who really does.”
We finished our lunch without rushing, like we had all the time in the world. Which we did now.
Outside the diner, the sun was still shining. T-Bone was waiting across the street, leaning against his truck, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like sin in leather.
Gemma squealed and took off toward him. He caught her mid-run and lifted her, grinning as she peppered his cheeks with kisses.
Chloe nudged me. “Yeah. You’re definitely screwed.”
“I know,” I said, watching them. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He looked up then, and when our eyes met, my whole chest did that fluttery thing it still hadn’t stopped doing. Four months, and I was still giddy like a schoolgirl every time he looked at me like that.
Like I was his whole damn world.
I crossed the street and walked straight into his arms. He wrapped them around me without hesitation, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“How was lunch?” he asked.
“Perfect,” I said, and I meant it.
“You packed for Vegas?” he asked.
I leaned close to him and whispered in his ear, “I wasn’t planning on being dressed much.”
The look on his face was priceless. He’d surprised me earlier by saying that he’d booked us a weekend getaway in Vegas. While my sister and niece were settling back into regular life I didn’t want to go too far from them, so I was touched by his thoughtfulness. A little escape from the everyday, but only thirty minutes away.
We piled into the truck together—Gemma in the back, chattering about a school art project, Chloe staring out the window, lost in thought, and me and T-Bone in the front, fingers intertwined across the center console.
And after everything we’d survived—everything we’d fought for—I couldn’t think of a better ending.
Or maybe, just maybe, a better beginning.
***
The sounds of Vegas were wild and alive—neon lights blinking in dizzying colors, the constant chiming of slot machines echoing from every direction, and the pulsing bass of dance clubs spilling out onto the streets. People buzzed like they were electrically charged, laughing, drinking, chasing the next high.
