She felt him slide out of her and groaned with the loss. She wasn’t sure she was ready to leave the room, the cocoon of his arms. He took a handkerchief out of the back pocket of his jeans and cleaned her up. He pulled her panties and jeans back up and found her bra where he’d tossed it on a file cabinet. Once he got her T-shirt back on, he stood in front of her buttoning his shirt with a shit-eating grin, she took a deep, steadying breath.
He grabbed her biceps and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.”
“It is.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She got on her tiptoes and kissed him, knowing she could trust him. He was her love and her family.
When they came up out of the exam room, Gabe gave them both a knowing head tilt. He wouldn’t have been so copacetic if he’d seen and smelled the scent of sex that they’d left in their wake.
“You should really wait until I have time to properly stitch up that cut on your face,” Gabe said.
She tugged Travis’s hand.
“Nah, my old lady likes it when I look rough.” Travis’s satisfied grin made her so weak in the knees she wanted to drag him back for round two. For the first time, she liked the sound of being his “old lady.”
But it was time to go home. Their home. Together.
She sank into him after she swung her leg over the bike and held him tight all the way back to the winery.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
The Heaven’s Sinners sure knew how to throw a barn-raising. Skyler looked out on all her friends and felt satisfied, filled to the brim with more happiness than she had ever fathomed.
She felt a pang of disquiet about not trying to do all the heavy labor of putting up the frame to the new barn, which would house guests when it was finished. But it felt good to rely on other people for once.
She looked over the adjacent vineyard; her grapes were beautiful.
Sara walked up to the table where she was setting out food. “You two had sex before the party, didn’t you?”
She sighed, and smiled at Sara. “We have sex before everything.”
“You’re a bitch, you know that?”
“I could have told you that.” Michael grabbed Skyler’s sides and she shrieked.
“Both of you told me I should snag him; don’t go and get jealous now.”
Sara and Michael both rolled their eyes.
Michael looped his arm around her shoulders and put his lips close to her ear. “Everyone’s here to support you.”
“They’re here to support you, too.” But not everyone was there. Chevy had left town right after the old barn blew up. Rumor had it that the Diablos had blamed Chevy for the barn explosion even though the actual story was that Roy had improperly stored some chemicals.
But she could tell Travis missed his friend. They could have lost so much more, but he still felt this loss.
And the fact that Roy and his son had plumb disappeared after the explosion made it clear the Diablos weren’t leaving loose ends. She felt a pang of regret that they were probably dead. She didn’t think she’d be able to shake it for a good, long time.
Once the frame went up, Travis sauntered over. His mother had arrived with meat and cheese; Skyler was pretty sure it would be gone within minutes. But Travis didn’t pay attention to the ambitious spread. He grabbed a beer from the tub and a bottle of wine from a table as he approached her with a grin that told her they were about to take leave of their guests.
“Can I steal my girl for a minute?”
Michael huffed. “With that look, I’m not sure who could stop you.”
Sara winked at him. “Just don’t be too long or I’ll tell your mother you’re necking over yonder.”
“You tell her that, and I’ll tell your brother about what you and Gabe were doing at Ed’s the other night.”
Sara worried her bottom lip, and shrugged. “If he ever comes back, you mean?” Her cheeks reddened, and she couldn’t keep her dimples from forming. “And nothing happened.”
“He’ll come back. I promise.”
Skyler believed him. Believed in him. Loved him more and more every day. Sometimes, like now, her eyes filled with tears because her heart was too full of him.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the party. She followed him. Even though they’d rolled out of bed—thank goodness, the house was finished so they had more space—right before the party, she couldn’t get enough.
He led her over to her truck, where he pulled a blanket and another package out of the flatbed. Then, they walked over the creek bank, about 500 yards away from the other guests.
He spread the blanket, and they both sat down.
“Gotta talk to you.”
Concern rose, and her skin prickled. She hoped nothing had come up with the Diablos. “About what?”
He touched the creases on her forehead. “Don’t worry. It’s serious, but it’s not bad.”
She pointed at the package, wrapped up in brown paper, tied up with string. “Are you about to start singing about your favorite things, Julie Andrews-style?”
“Not a chance, Carrots.” He put his hand on the inside of her leg and pulled it over his so they were entwined. “But I do have to ask you something.”
Something weird happened to her heart and she grabbed onto his hand. Was it the question she knew he’d been waiting to ask? The package was too big for a ring, but maybe it was a joke.
He motioned to the elephant on the blanket. “Open it.”
She reached for it so quickly she almost knocked him onto his back. He braced, and laughed.
She ripped the paper away from the box and took off the top. It was a cut with a Heaven’s Sinners top rocker and bottom rocker that said Carrots. Not Property of Travis.
“What does this mean?”
“What do you want it to mean?”
“I want it to mean that we’re family. That you love me, but I still belong to myself.”
He touched the black leather and the patches with his rough, sun-darkened hand. “Then that’s what it means.”
He came close, kissed the side of her neck. She moaned at the feel of his goatee against her skin. “What else does it mean?”
“It means you’re one of us—you’re a Sinner.”
She laughed. “I was always one of those. But I don’t have my own bike.” She turned to him and one side of his mouth slanted up.
“You know that Panhead I’ve been working on?” Of course, she knew that bike. Looking at it made her feel like she was a teenager again. She’d lusted over it for a month; it was all sleek black and chrome. It was small enough for her to have perfect control. Every time she got on Travis’s bike, she’d thought about this one. She loved being wrapped up in Travis, but she wanted the freedom of her own bike.
He’d told her it was for a client of Chevy’s, that he was just finishing it up for his friend.
She slapped his arm. “It’s mine?”
“Ouch. And not until you answer a question.”
“We’ve already done that one thing—”
“Nah, babe. I’m talking about something much scarier.” He gently pushed her onto her back on the blanket and dropped a brief kiss on her lips. “You only get the bike when you agree to marry me.”
She smiled up at him, but she still had to give him a little shit. “You already have a bunch of carrots tattooed on your shoulder, which means you can never really get rid of me,” she said, referring to his drunk and miserable tattoo. She traced her fingers over it under his T-shirt sleeve, and his arms shook a little. “So, I don’t get a ring?”
“You want a ring, I’m gonna have to sell the bike.”
“I don’t want a ring. I want the bike. I want you.”
“You got me, Carrots.”
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Andie J. Christopher writes edgy, funny, sexy contemporary romance. She grew up in a family of voracious readers, and picked
up her first Harlequin Romance novel at age twelve when she’d finished reading everything else in her grandmother’s house. It was love at first read. It wasn’t too long before she started writing her own stories — her first heroine drank Campari and wore a lot of Esprit.
Although, she set aside writing fiction for a while, her love of reading romance novels stayed with her through college, law school, and multiple cross-country moves. During one long East Coast winter, she decided writing a book would be a good excuse to avoid braving the elements. It was love at first write. Her heroes are dirty-talking alphas, but her heroines traded Esprit for Free People. (None of them would turn down a Campari, though.)
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For more information
www.andiejchristopher.com
[email protected]
Also by Andie J. Christopher
One Night in South Beach Series
Stroke of Midnight
Dusk Until Dawn
Break of Day
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Standalone
Full Contact
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