by Vivian Gray
As Kenna grew more and more pregnant with every passing day and my life became more and more full, I knew the next step was marriage. For years, I’d resisted the idea of a wife and children. I’d decided that the traditional path wasn’t for me. I wasn’t fit to be anyone’s husband, and I definitely couldn’t be anyone’s dad.
But now, it felt natural, easy. Of course I would marry Kenna. I loved her more than anything, and I wanted to be with her forever. And once our son was born, we would have more children. We’d already talked about it. Kenna wanted three kids, two boys and a girl. And I wanted whatever Kenna wanted.
“So, you are really going to marry this girl?” Dean asked, his feet kicked up on our kitchen table the same way he always did at the clubhouse.
I rolled my eyes and swatted his feet away. “Sure am.”
Dean made a humming noise in the back of his throat.
“What? You don’t believe me?” I asked.
“This is the first girl I’ve ever seen you date, and now you are talking marriage. It’s just crazy is all.” He shrugged.
“Do you not like her?” I asked, a defensive edge to my voice.
He held his hands up. “No, it isn’t anything like that. I love Kenna. We all do. You know that.”
I did know that. All of my brothers were charmed by her. She was beautiful, which was an easy way for any woman to gain the trust of a man, but she also took leftovers from the diner over to the clubhouse all the time on her way home from work. Nothing could get to a Mavericks’ heart faster than a greasy diner burger.
“Then what is it?” I asked.
“It’s just tough to imagine you as a husband. Suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. Honey, I’m home,” he said, holding his hand up against his mouth, a fake smile painted on.
I laughed. “Why in the hell would I wear a suit and carry a briefcase?”
“I don’t know, that’s just what dads do.”
“Maybe in 1950s’ sitcoms, but this is real life. I’m going to wear the same clothes I’ve always worn and talk the exact same way I’ve always talked.”
Dean pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
“If I ever say Honey, I’m home, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”
Dean stuck out his hand. “Is that a promise?”
“Promise.”
We shook on it.
“So, how are you going to ask her?” Dean asked a while later after I’d retrieved two more cold beers from the fridge.
“The traditional way, I suppose
Dean shook his head. “Traditional? You are already going soft on me.”
I groaned. “I have a ring and some of her favorite flowers. It’s nice.”
“It is, man. It’s really nice,” Dean said, finally sounding serious. “Kenna has been really good for you. You seem happy now.”
I wanted to ask him how I’d seemed before, but I was afraid of the answer. I hadn’t been the most pleasant person to be around, I knew that, but I also knew my brothers respected me. I only hoped they’d still respect me when I was an old married guy.
“Thanks, Dean.”
We smiled at one another for a minute, and then when the moment began to feel a little too emotional, he coughed, and we looked away from one another.
“When is she going to be here? Should I go?” he asked.
“She is out shopping now, but she is going to stop at her mom’s house before coming home. Her mom is going to text me when she gets there so I can have everything ready.”
For the next hour, Dean and I reminisced about the good old days. Dean rehashed the details of his best fights, and I talked about the first time I’d ever ridden a motorcycle, the way it felt to have the engine rumble beneath me.
“Whoa,” Dean said, holding up his hands and laughing. “That sounds a little too sexual for me. I’m not here for all of this.”
I threw an empty beer can at him, and I was glad I’d taken the afternoon to spend time with him. Part of me still wished I was wandering around the mall with Kenna, shopping for clothes for our son, but I wanted Dean to be the first person to know I was going to get married. He had been my best friend and second in command for years, and it only felt right that my last moments as a single man would be spent with him.
When he left, he wished me luck and promised that there would be a lot of strippers at my bachelor party.
“What if I don’t want strippers?” I called after him, shouting over the roar of his engine, loud enough that our old maid neighbor overheard me and gave me a scathing stare.
He shrugged. “More for me.”
Less than five minutes after he left, Kenna’s mom texted to let me know she’d forgotten to text and Kenna was on her way. I cursed under my breath and ran inside. I needed to set up the candles around the front door, move the peonies from the fridge and into a vase of cold water, and grab the two jewelry boxes.
I ran around the house in a mad dash, and then, nervous about when exactly I should light the candles – they were small, and I didn’t want them to burn out before she arrived – I decided to call Kenna and see when she would be home.
“Hello?” Her voice was normal and chipper. And most importantly, unsuspicious.
“You almost home?”
“I’m at the end of the block, why?”
Shit. I began furiously lighting candles with the lighter from the kitchen. “Okay, see you in a minute.”
When I hung up the phone, I threw it onto the couch across the room and kept lighting the tiny tea lights. Just as I lit the last one, I heard her car door close in the driveway. My heart was hammering against my ribs both from nerves and exertion – running around the house like a crazy person was a good work out, apparently. I knelt down on one knee, the flowers clutched in one hand, a rectangular jewelry box in the other.
Her key slid into the lock, and it felt like an eternity before the door finally opened. When it did, Kenna was standing there, arms loaded down with plastic shopping bags, her hair disheveled and falling out of her messy bun, her shirt was pulled up, exposing the bottom bit of her pregnant belly.
She was the most adorable and perfect thing I’d ever seen in my entire life. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, but when they did, she looked down at me on the floor, and they flew wide. She dropped the bags and placed both hands over her mouth, bouncing up and down slightly.
“Kenna, from the moment I first saw you, I loved you. It took me longer than I’m proud to admit to figure that out.” I paused, and we both laughed, Kenna through happy tears. “But now that I have, I never ever want to let you go. You are already an incredible mother, and I can’t wait to see how much our son is going to love you.”
I held out the rectangular box to her and popped it open. Immediately, her eyes narrowed. I saw the confusion written in every line of her face. Inside the box was a silver wristwatch.
“I don’t have any family heirlooms to pass on to our child or any traditions to carry on, but I do have this watch. When I received my first paycheck, I bought myself this watch. It was a symbol of finally being a man, of being able to care for myself. And now…” I took the watch out and flipped it over. “… I’d like to pass it on to our son as a promise that I will always care for him.”
Kenna picked it up and gasped. “You got it engraved?”
“Do you like it?” I asked. It was a risk. We hadn’t decided on a name yet, but I had one in mine, and I decided to go for it.
She bit her lower lip and then smiled, a sob bursting out. “Samuel Jacob.”
“Samuel Jacob,” I repeated.
“This is a beautiful gesture,” Kenna said, tucking the watch back into the box and stepping towards me, arms open wide.
I held up a hand to stop her. “There’s one more thing.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out another box. This one small and square.
Once again, Kenna’s face lit up. “You tricked me,” she said, tears stre
aming down her cheeks.
I smiled up at her. “Kenna, I know that you could do better than me. You could get any man you wanted in the world. But I am so incredibly grateful that you have decided to be with me. You make my life better. You make every day worth living. There is no one else on this Earth I would rather wake up next to. Would you please do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?”
I opened the box, and Kenna’s eyes widened still. She looked from the ring to me and back again. Then, finally, she found her words.
“Yes, of course. Absolutely. I will marry you.”
The ring was a large circular diamond, surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds and a plain white gold band. It fit perfectly on her finger, and Kenna couldn’t stop looking at it.
An hour later, Kenna was eating rocky road ice cream while I rubbed her feet, and her eyes were still glued to the ring.
“I’m starting to think you only said yes because of the ring,” I said.
She shrugged but didn’t look up at me. “You should have kept the box closed until I answered. Then you’d know for sure if I loved you.”
I stopped rubbing her feet and raised an eyebrow.
Kenna laughed, put aside her ice cream, and slid over next to me, her movements clumsy because of her large belly. She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You could have proposed to me with a paper ring, and I would have said yes.”
“Really? Because that would have saved me a lot of money.”
She tucked her hand behind her back, hiding the ring. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s mine now.”
I laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, Kenna.”
She grabbed her pint of ice cream off the coffee table and nestled into my side, her head resting perfectly between my shoulder and jaw.
“I love you too, Trigger, more than anything.”
Two months later, Kenna gave birth to Samuel Jacob. He had his mother’s ocean-blue eyes, my dark hair, and the biggest dimples any of the nurses had ever seen. Within a second, we both knew that no matter how much we loved one another, he was the new love of both of our lives.
THE END
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Books by Vivian Gray
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Born Biker: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Devil’s Crucifix MC) (Dark Outlaw Secrets Book 3)
I’m about to take her ‘til I break her.
I always get what I want, and what I want is her.
She can try to fight it, but we both know she wants to be owned.
She wants to be held close and made to moan for hours.
And I’m coming to finish what I started.
ASH
A violent past poured blood onto my soul and burned hellfire in my heart.
I’ve been trying to get out for so long.
But now everything I care about is burning.
Dani has her whole life lying ahead of her.
And now one of my demons is threatening to strip it all away.
The thing is, I’m not exactly innocent in Dani’s downfall.
My enemy may have lit the match.
But I’m going to throw gasoline on the fire.
Because Dani ventured too close to the inferno in my mind.
Even though she shouldn’t want me.
Even though touching me is a risk few have survived.
A woman like her just can’t stay away from my heat.
But I’m the only one who can keep her alive.
Here in this outlaw world, I rule by force.
Survival of the fittest is the name of the game.
And she fits perfectly on the back of my chopper.
I don’t care that she didn’t invite me into her life.
I’m here now.
And protecting her is all I give a d*mn about.
Better than she’s kept safe by a monster than chained down by a devil.
DANI
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
Getting close enough to burn was never part of the plan.
But Ash took that choice away from me.
Ash. A man whose chiseled, tattooed body is matched only by his ruthlessness and loyalty.
A man who confuses, arouses, and frightens me.
I didn’t ask for him to save me.
And just because I owe him my life, doesn’t mean I plan on letting him collect his debt.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
But Ash is coming to claim what’s his – what’s rightfully his.
And I’m about to discover what it’s like to be owned.
Because the look in the biker’s eyes says he’s moments away from erupting.
I’ve got nowhere to run.
Nowhere to escape those rough hands claiming every curve.
Nowhere to hide from that gaze that strips me bare.
No way to shut out the words as he leans down and whispers in my ear…
“You belong to me.”
Born Killer: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Bad Devils MC) (Dark Outlaw Secrets Book 2)
What if a killer took you to bed?
I’ve had enough of bikers.
My scumbag father left us when I was just a baby.
But Race is dead-set on making me his…
And giving me a baby of my own.
RACE
I grew up in broken homes.
The child of drug addicts, I’ve seen the worst horrors life has to offer.
But I survived it all.
The abuse. The neglect. The pain. The suffering.
My scars and tattoos are a testament to what I’ve done to stay alive.
People know at first glance I’ve had trouble in my past.
And the Bad Devils MC patch on my kutte lets them I’ll probably have more in my future.
But women can never resist a dangerous bad boy.
They flock to my side and beg me to own them for the night.
Except for Delilah.
She takes one look at me and tries to escape.
She can tell that this is not an act or a façade.
I’m a born killer.
And she knows that the best thing to do is run from me.
But I won’t let that happen.
She’s too precious, too pure, too beautiful for any other man but me.
We’re both broken in our own unique ways.
But I’m determined to make her shatter for me.
And only for me.
DELILAH
I knew he was danger from the second I saw him.
But I just couldn’t stay far enough away.
Race is relentless and savage.
He won’t stop until I’m in his bed, moaning his name, pleading for more and more and more.
And even that won’t be enough.
Because Race wants a family to replace the one he never had.
And in me, he’s found his woman.
All that’s left is for us to make a baby.
Whether I want it or not.
Born Sinner: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Blood Ravens MC) (Dark Outlaw Secrets Book 1)
I was born to break girls like her.
I planned to make her beg for mercy.
But Maria took me by surprise.
I’ve been a bad man, a born sinner since Day 1.
But with her… there might be hope for redemption.
BLADE
I don’t believe in love.
A cheating ex cured me of that stupid delusion.
In her wake, she left seething rage and a death wish.
And now, it’s time to get my revenge.
Because the woman who broke my heart has a younger sister…
And a father who’s the head of the biggest cartel in the state.
So why not use the innocent girl to destroy the guilty man?
I’ve
spent years doing anything that my club, the Blood Ravens MC, needs me to do.
I collect debts, break skulls, enforce the outlaw’s brand of justice.
Compared to all those dirty jobs, this is going to be pure and sweet.
But Maria isn’t the cruel cartel princess I expected her to be.
She’s too smart, too sexy.
And when she says she wants to help us bring down her father, I don’t know what to do.
Can my enemy’s daughter be trusted?