“Are you okay?” I asked.
“You know,” he said as continued to gaze blankly at the horizon.
He turned toward me and smiled. “I’m really good, Riley. Really good. I uhhm. That’s why I wanted to come here. Just to talk and relax. It’s peaceful here. It just seems like this is where everything started to be, I don’t know, fixed.”
“I like it here, too.”
“So, I talked to Jackson this morning,” he said.
“Oh, yeah, and?” I asked.
“Well, you know. Clubs never ask a person to be a member or prospect. Never happens. But uhhm. If a guy asks them about being a member, then they offer everything up. You know, the process and all. But it always starts from an outsider asking,” he said.
I nodded my head. “Okay.”
“Well, I made the mistake of asking how a guy becomes a member,” he said.
“Oh. Wow. Uhhm, what happened?” I asked.
“He turned sideways on the bench and placed his hand on my thigh. “They asked me to become a prospect.”
I swallowed heavily. From my talk with Em in the bar, she shared with me how the club had become a family for Jackson, and that it was the best thing that ever happened to him. She also explained the level of secrecy the men have regarding the club and club business. As much as I hated to admit it, I was excited for Blake to possibly become a member of something like a motorcycle club, and I felt it would provide me with several new girlfriends.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Told him I’d think about it,” he said.
“Well, you ride, you love to ride, and you’re covered in tattoos. Hell, you don’t even own a car. And you don’t have a family. I think you’re perfect for it,” I said as I reached for his hand.
“Do you?” he asked.
I nodded my head. “I do. And I’d be proud of you if you did. And you know how my mom feels about those guys. In her eyes, they can’t do any wrong. She just loves Axton.”
“You be proud?” he asked.
“Who wouldn’t? Yes, I really would,” I said.
“Well, I’ll sleep on it,” he said. “And we’ll talk again, okay?”
“Okay,” I said with a smile.
“And I’ve got something,” I said.
“Let’s hear it. What, you catch the shop on fire?” he asked.
I laughed. “No. My uhhm. My mom, she wants to start a tradition, and she wants to know if you’re interested.”
“Depends on what it is,” he said.
“She wants to have Sunday dinner at her house every Sunday. You know, like a family.” I said.
Slowly, he twisted his forearm half around, gazed at the line tattooed across his wrist, and stared. “That’d be really nice,” he said as he glanced up.
I jumped up from the bench. “You mean you’ll do it?”
“Yeah. It’d be nice,” he said.
“Oh wow. Mom’s just gonna die. She’s going to be so happy. You realize this is like every Sunday, right?” I asked.
He stood from the bench and wrapped his arms around me. “Yes, I understand. And it sounds perfect. Like a family.”
“Yes,” I said.
A tear welled in my eye and slowly crept down my cheek at the thought of Blake having something he could call a family.
“A family,” I said as I wiped my finger across my cheek.
“Let’s go see her,” he said.
“My mom?” I asked excitedly.
He nodded his head.
“Okay,” I said as I reached down and grabbed my helmet.
“Meet me at the bike,” he said. “I’ve got to do something really quick.”
“Okay,” I said.
It seemed strange for him to ask me to walk away, but if it was what he needed, I wanted to provide it. As I sat on the curb beside the bike and gazed down the hill at the lake, I watched as Blake reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and tossed it into the middle of the lake.
I couldn’t tell for sure against the setting sun, but it looked like his cross.
After a moment, he walked up to the bike and smiled a huge smile. “Ready?”
I nodded my head and stood. “What did you throw away?”
He gazed down at his boots for a moment. As he shifted his eyes upward, he responded.
“My past,” he said.
And I fully believed him.
EPILOGUE
The young blonde walked in to the dining room with the platters of food and placed them on the table. The elder woman stared down at the food and shook her head. After a moment, she glanced upward and grinned.
“I have no idea on why you insisted cooking so much food, Riley. This is ridiculous,” she said.
“Not ridiculous,” the younger woman responded.
“It certainly is. This is a waste,” she said as she tilted her head toward the table filled with food.
“Believe me, it’s not a waste,” she assured her as she turned toward the kitchen.
“Are you expecting more?” the woman asked.
Inside the kitchen and out of sight, the girl grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “Guess we’ll have to see.”
“And why didn’t you two come together? You two have come together for weeks,” the woman said.
“I don’t know, mom,” the young woman responded.
She carried two more platters of food to the dining room, grinning the entire way into the dining room. She knew there would be more guests coming to dinner, but she hoped to keep the surprise as long as she was able. She glanced at her watch.
By her estimate, they were fifteen minutes late as it was. As the elder woman stared down at the food and shook her head once more, a thunderous roar from out in the street began to shake the windows.
“What…” the elder woman said as she stood from her seat.
She walked to the window, pulled the curtains to the side and stared out into the street. She grinned at what she saw, glanced over her shoulder, and glared at the younger woman.
“You should have told me they were coming,” she said.
The younger woman shrugged her shoulders and smiled. As far as she knew, the arrival of the six men and five women were the extent of the surprise.
As the motorcycles parked along the street in a row along the curb in front of the house, a petite woman with heavily tattooed arms and pink hair walked in through the back door. Her hands filled with two platters of grilled chicken, she carefully walked across the beige carpeting and toward the kitchen.
“This is the last of it,” she shouted.
“Just give it here, Stevie. The cat’s out of the bag, they’re here,” the elder woman said.
“Oh, okay,” the petite woman responded as she held the platters at arm’s length.
The front door opened and the men and women came into the home in couples, with the exception of one man who walked in alone.
The last man in the house differed slightly. On his leather vest the word “Prospect” was sewn into the patch on the back. As he entered the house he glanced at the elder woman, walked her direction, and hugged her in his arms.
“Sorry we’re late, mom,” he said.
“It’s quite alright, Blake,” she responded with a smile. “You brought my favorite crew. I’ll forgive you.”
Nervously, the young man glanced around the room. “Where’s Riley?”
“Right here,” the young woman responded from the kitchen.
After walking into the kitchen, the young man wrapped his arms around the blonde woman and kissed her on the lips. A short exchange of words later, they walked hand-in-hand into the dining area.
“Are we ready?” The elder woman asked. “Is everyone here?”
The blonde woman with the tattooed arm glanced around the room and counted silently. “Yes,” she said. “They’re all here.”
“Who’s saying grace?” the mother asked.
“I’ll say it,” the man with the patch identifying him as
president said as he raised his hand.
The young man cleared his throat. “Wait,” he said as he held his index finger in the air.
He turned to face the younger blonde woman. As she gazed into his eyes and smiled, wondering why he had stopped the blessing of the meal, he knelt down before her.
“Riley,” he said. “I love you.”
The young woman began to softly cry. Her mother joined in shedding a tear. As the younger of the two women wiped the tears from her cheek, the young man reached into his vest and removed a solitaire diamond ring.
“As God, your mother, and my brothers and sisters are my witness, Riley Jaye Campbell, will you marry me?” he asked.
She nodded her head, cleared her throat, and spoke the two words she’d yearned to say for a lifetime.
“I will.”
Blurred Lines: Tattoo Romance (Bodies Ink and Steel) Page 19