Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Welcome home, baby,” I said softly as she stood in the doorway, taking it all in.
For a moment, the tough exterior cracked, and I caught a glimpse of the overwhelmed eleven-year-old beneath. Her eyes widened at the gifts piled on the sofa. Everyone had brought assortments of books and games, as well as a brand-new laptop, still in its box.
“Is that… for me?” she asked, her voice smaller than I’d ever heard it.
“All of it,” Tiny confirmed. “The club takes care of its own.”
The apartment filled with people bringing in food, gifts, and well-wishes. Brynn sat on the couch, maintaining her cool facade, but I noticed how her fingers kept touching the soft throw blanket Hannah had draped over her lap, how her eyes kept returning to the tablet.
After about an hour, I caught the droop in her shoulders, the way her responses had slowed. “All right, everyone out,” I announced. “I’m fuckin’ tired.”
Everyone laughed. They all hugged Brynn, promising to check on her. One of Carrie’s cats seemed to have found a permanent home in Brynn’s lap. Every time Chains tried to pick it up, the damned thing hissed. He’d stopped trying, and as long as Brynn was happy, I didn’t care.
Knuckles organized the exodus, herding everyone toward the door with promises of beer in the clubhouse. When the last visitor had departed, Brynn finally let the exhaustion show.
“I think I need to take a nap,” she admitted, the admission itself a testament to how tired she truly was.
I helped her to her room and into her pajamas while Knight tidied up the remains of our little party. By the time I shut her door to go to Knight, Brynn was asleep, the day’s excitement having drained her energy fast. She had come so far, but she still had healing to do.
Night fell, and I found him out on the small balcony off our bedroom, the compound stretching dark and silent below us as stars winked into existence. He pulled me against him, holding me against his chest like I’d dreamed about for so long.
“We’re really here,” I whispered, leaning my cheek against his chest. “We’re all really together.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple, and I breathed in the familiar scent of his skin. “We are,” he murmured. “Never thought I’d get this lucky twice in one lifetime.”
My heart tightened. I turned so I could look up at him, searching his eyes. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop,” I admitted. “For something to go wrong.”
“Nothing’s going wrong,” he promised, though I saw the weight behind his words. “We’ve paid our dues, Lavender. All of us.”
I lifted my hand to his cheek, fingertips ghosting over the dark ink that trailed from his temple down his jaw. I still saw the boy I’d fallen in love with, reckless and playful, behind every line of experience life had carved there.
“He’s still in there,” he said, catching my hand and pressing a soft kiss to my palm. “Just with better ink and worse attitude.”
I laughed, the sound muffled by his chest, and then he was kissing me. Warm and insistent, as if he’d been starving for this touch. Heat sparked in my belly, a familiar fire fanned by years of separation and relief.
“Bed.” Knight’s voice grated rough and demanding. The wonderful sound sent chills through my body, flooding my pussy with heated need.
“Yes. Bed.”
Knight swept me into his arms before I could take a single step, my surprised gasp swallowed by his mouth as he kissed me with both intensity and gentleness. He carried me to our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.
“If you wake Brynn up, this is not happening.” I couldn’t help teasing Knight as I found his neck with my mouth and sucked.
“Christ,” he breathed out, leaning his head back. “Sorry.” He fumbled with the lock on the door.
I giggled as he moved to the bed. “Knight, don’t strain yourself. You just lost an organ,” I protested weakly even as I let out a small laugh. He laid me on our bed, his tattooed body looming over mine.
“Don’t care,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “Been waiting too fuckin’ long to get you alone.”
He slid his hands beneath my shirt, calloused palms skimming over my ribs. I arched into his touch, my body responding to him with a desperate hunger that didn’t even surprise me. We’d been so careful these past weeks, mindful of his healing incision and focused entirely on Brynn.
“Need you,” I whispered, tugging at his shirt. “Now.”
Knight stripped it off in one fluid motion, revealing the tapestry of ink across his torso and the angry red incision at his navel where they’d taken his kidney. I traced it gently with my fingertips, this physical proof of his willing sacrifice for our daughter. The man had fought to give her everything. And he’d won.