“Hey, beautiful,” Oz whispers into my ear.
I raise up on my toes as he leans down to kiss me. My hands glide up his back and into his black hair. Around us, people “oooh” and “aaah” in a mocking-fun way as if we’ve been caught making out in high school. I’m twenty-one now and have been to my fair share of Reign of Terror parties. Some of these men have done way more embarrassing things than what I’m doing right now, so they can shut up.
We eventually stop kissing, and he pulls me close for another hug. It’s been three weeks since we’ve seen each other, and as much as I’m happy to see him, I’m a bit sad—it’s just a reminder of how much I’ll miss him when I go to Europe for the year.
I considered not going to Europe to study for my last year of college, but then Oz pushed me for the real reason why I was passing up the opportunity since it was clear I wanted to go. When I told him it was because I was going to miss him, he told me that wasn’t acceptable.
“I love you,” he had said to me, while using his thumb to remove a tear from my cheek. “And I’m not okay with you turning down such a great opportunity because of me.”
So, I’m going—with Mom and Dad for a month vacation, and then to settle in and study. Eli, Oz, and Cyrus have plans to visit me while I’m there, then Breanna and Violet are planning a girls’ trip, but none of their visits will be for long enough. As much as I’m excited to live in Paris, I’m equally sad. I love this entire group of people, and it’s hard to think I can’t see them anytime I want for the next year.
“Come away with me,” Oz whispers in my ear.
I want to, so much. It’s been too long since we’ve had any intimate time alone. I pull back from our hug, glance around and I’m surprised to find everyone gone. Oz and I are standing alone in the grass near my car. Over Oz’s shoulder, I watch as the group of guys who had been welcoming me home head to the clubhouse, so Oz and I can spend time together.
“I haven’t said hi to Eli or Cyrus yet.” But the words are empty as my blood warms with Oz’s gentle caress up and down my arms.
“I’ll bring you back. Just an hour, Emily.”
With another brush of his lips against mine, the decision is made—I’ll say hi to them later, and I’m saying yes to Oz now. I lock my fingers with Oz’s and smile up at him. A sexy smile touches his mouth, and he tugs on my hand to guide me forward.
We walk side-by-side, our shoulders and arms touching with our strides, as we head to Oz’s motorcycle. There are few places that I love as much as being on the back of Oz’s bike. I love my arms wrapped around him, the heat created by our bodies being pressed so close, the wind in my hair and the feeling of flying.
Right as Oz digs his keys out of his jeans’ front pocket, Razor calls out to us, “Oz!”
Oz groans, and I completely understand the feeling. I don’t want to get sucked into the clubhouse, because then we’ll never be alone. I squeeze Oz’s hand. “Let’s run.”
He grins down at me. “You sure?”
“Definitely.”
“Oz,” Razor calls out again. “I know you want time alone, but Chevy’s talking to Isaiah to see if he can fix Eli’s motorcycle before he figures out what happened to it.”
My head tilts to the side as I take in Razor’s words and the look of dread on Oz’s face. “What does he mean about Eli’s motorcycle? Has something happened to it?”
Oz rolls his neck. “Have I ever told you I suck at babysitting?”
“No.” There’s no way any of this is good.
Chapter 40
Rachel
Behind the clubhouse, Isaiah and I stare in shock at Eli’s motorcycle. Adelaide struggles in my arms as if there’s a gravitational field calling her towards the bike, but I don’t think her going near it is a good idea. From what I’ve gathered, she’s the one who caused the damage.
“What do you think?” Oz asks. “Can you fix it?”
Isaiah glances at me from the corner of his eye and I give him the same knowing glance back. Yes, it can be fixed, but it will require a complete repaint. Something we can do at Tom’s garage, but nothing we can do here. And nothing we can do before Eli wants his motorcycle this evening.
As Isaiah starts to shake his head, I place a hand on his arm. Another glance at me and he knows I have something I need to say to him. With a tilt of my head, he knows it’s something I want to say in private.
The Reign of Terror family has learned how Isaiah and I conduct subtle conversations in body language. Razor takes Adelaide from me, and they quietly fall back—giving us space.
“I know that look,” Isaiah says. “You think we can take this on, but we can’t fix it here. Even if we had the tools, a paint job like this takes time.”
“I’ve done a few paint jobs,” I remind him then scan the area to make sure that Emily stayed in the clubhouse. She’s not around so I continue, “So I know all this. The whole point is that Eli will be mad, right? Even if he doesn’t show it, Oz and Emily are going to know he’s upset, and that’s not the memory they want with their engagement, right?”
“Yeah, but I can’t help. Not in enough time.”
“I know, but what if you offer Eli a trade?”
Isaiah is adorably confused. “A trade?”
“A bike for a bike. And trust me, it’s a trade he’ll like.”
“I don’t understand.”
I know he doesn’t, and I take a deep breath as I take the jump. “Eli’s going to give you your father’s motorcycle tonight in front of the entire club.”
I reach out and grab Isaiah’s hand as I watch the shock and vulnerability flicker over his face. The muscles in his hand are stiff as he locks up with emotion.
“I…” Isaiah glances around wildly. “I can’t accept that.”
I nod because I knew that’s how he would feel. The gift is too expensive, and the gift is too big emotionally. “Eli wants you to have it.”
He shakes his head. “That bike belongs with James’s family.”
“You are his family.”
“I’m not.”
“You are James’s son.”
“But I didn’t know him,” Isaiah explodes, and his loud voice doesn’t shake me. It’s not me he’s upset with, but a past he can’t change. “I’ll never know him. These people—” his hands wave toward the front of the clubhouse, “—they loved him, and that bike means something. The same way Echo loves Aires’ Mustang, the same way Violet loves her dad’s Chevelle.”
I place my hand over his heart. “The same way you love the old Mustang you crashed when you were trying to get me out of debt with Eric. I understand that love.”
“Then you know I can’t take that bike.”
I sigh heavily. “Eli’s not giving you the bike because he thinks you miss James.”
“Then why is he doing it?”
“Because Eli loves you.”
That shuts Isaiah up. He stares at me, tongue-tied, and then there’s hurt in his eyes—hurt from the fear that’s so ingrained in him that he has a tough time ridding himself of the ache. I step forward into Isaiah, and I hug him tight. Hug him so strongly that it seems as if all the pain from his childhood should be forced out. But it’s not my hugs that can cure him, it’s each and every day that Isaiah accepts that there are people who love and care for him. Not because they need something from him, but because he’s enough.
“He loves you,” I say into his chest. “They all do. They’re your family, Isaiah. Just let them in.”
Isaiah finally wraps his arms around me and holds me so tight I can barely breathe. “It scares me.”
“I know, but they’re in this for the long haul.”
With the way he runs his hands along my back, he’s aware. We stand there, holding onto each other, letting Isaiah drive away his ghosts. He kisses the side of my head but keeps my hand as he steps back. “How’s Eli giving me the motorcycle going to help Oz’s situation?”
I breathe out in relief because that means he’s goin
g to do it—he’s going to accept the gift. It also means Isaiah is ready to fully accept them as family.
“Take the motorcycle,” I say, “then invite Eli up to Louisville. Tell him you’d like to repaint his bike.”
“So, Eli’s going to find out about his bike being painted by a baby tonight? I don’t see how that’s going to help.”
“Eli’s going to be so happy that his daughter is engaged and that his nephew is accepting him as family that he won’t care about his motorcycle.”
Isaiah looks at me like I’m insane. “He loves that bike.”
“He loves the two of you more.”
Chapter 41
Oz
The diamond ring is out of the box, hiding in my front pocket, and I lost Emily to Cyrus and Eli. I can’t blame them. After all, Emily is Cyrus’s granddaughter and Eli is her father. They love spending time with her, and she loves spending time with them. She sits with them at the kitchen table of Cyrus’s house.
Standing in the doorway, I think of the summer I spent watching over Emily and all the mornings I came in to find Emily and her grandmother, Olivia, sitting at this same table bickering with one another.
Emily’s quick-witted. Olivia was, too. Even before Emily understood that she was loved by this family, the two of them cared for each other almost instantly—even while they got under each other’s skin.
Back then, old feuds between the Reign of Terror and a rival club had placed Emily in danger. It was my job to keep her safe. The threat is over from the rival club, but my mission isn’t complete. Never will be. I love Emily, and I want to spend the rest of my life keeping her safe and making her happy.
In the living room, Breanna and Razor are catching up with Nina, my parents, and Razor’s dad and step-mom. On the front porch, through the open screen door, I can hear Chevy, Isaiah, Rachel, and Violet swapping stories. There’s multiple conversations happening. Laughter and smiles all around. It’s the way Olivia would have wanted her family to be—together.
Emily glances up, as if she can feel me watching her, and she gives me that gorgeous smile. I tilt my head toward the front door. It’s a question. Can we steal a few minutes alone?
My original idea was to take her to the overlook to propose, but we’ve lost too much time. Tonight’s party is already under way. Once Emily hits the clubhouse, I’ll be lucky to see her again until she’s dead on her feet and ready for bed.
Emily nods and I can inhale again. We’ll have a few minutes alone, I’ll propose to her and she’ll have the rest of the night with our family.
She scoots back from the table, tells Eli and Cyrus she’s going to spend a few minutes with me and Eli stands along with her.
“I’m going to give Isaiah James’ motorcycle tonight,” he says low enough I can barely hear it.
Emily brightens. “Tonight?”
“Yeah.” He looks as giddy as she is.
“When?”
Eli looks over at Cyrus. “I don’t know. We haven’t thought about that yet. It’s inside the clubhouse now. We had Pigpen bring it in after Isaiah came into the cabin.”
“Eli,” I interrupt. “Emily and I are going to take a walk.”
Eli meets my eyes and the understanding is clear: I’m about to propose and I’d appreciate it if he didn’t get in the way…again.
“But you and Oz take some time—” Eli starts.
“We will, but you have to give Isaiah the bike now or he’ll see it when he goes into the clubhouse.”
Cyrus glances between me and Emily, also catching on. “No, we’ll wait a few minutes.”
“Nonsense.” Emily approaches me and takes my hand. “Aren’t you excited to see Isaiah receive his bike?”
Of course I am. “Yes.”
“Then we’ll go for a walk after.” She kisses my lips in a slow way, in a promising way, but I know how this will play out. She’ll be lost in all the people who will want to see her the moment we walk into the clubhouse. Then, as we catch up with our friends by the bonfire, she’ll fall asleep in my arms.
I wanted this to be perfect. I had planned roses and candles and music. But perfection isn’t going to happen.
“Seriously, Emily,” Eli tries again, “we can wait. You and Oz haven’t had two seconds together since you got here.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Since when have you been concerned about my quality time with Oz?”
She’s right, and Eli shoves his hands in his pockets, fumbling for a response. But Emily doesn’t notice, as she’s on a mission. She wants to see her cousin receive a gift that means the world to her father.
Emily slips away from me, into the living room and out onto the porch. “Isaiah, let’s head to the clubhouse.”
I follow, and I hear footsteps as everyone in the house follows as well.
“Emily,” I say softly as a growing sense of purpose takes hold of me.
“This is going to be such a great party,” she continues.
“Emily,” I say a bit louder. When she glances at me over her shoulder, her long dark hair falls all around her, and I lose the ability to breathe. I love her. More than anything. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want her to want to spend the rest of her life with me, as well.
The entire porch goes quiet—Razor, Breanna, Chevy, Violet, Isaiah, Rachel, Eli, Nina, Cyrus, Hook, Pigpen, Caroline, my mom and dad. I don’t know why they’re so silent. Maybe because everyone here knows how long I’ve been wanting to do this.
Emily stares at me, a question in her eyes, and I stare back, hoping and praying that she does love me as much as I love her.
Lots of people are gathered in the yard, there to keep Isaiah from going into the clubhouse so he doesn’t see his gift. As the silence stretches on the porch, the loud conversation and laughter in the yard dies. Emily glances around as if searching for answers, but all anyone does is watch her.
“What’s going on?” she says, and no one answers.
“Emily,” I say again, and the tenderness in my voice, the pure love I have for her, causes it to be deeper than normal.
She turns to fully face me then, the confusion still there, but there’s a softness in her expression. Probably because the only time she hears that tone of voice from me is when I whisper how much I love her during our private moments.
“Emily Catherine Star, from the moment you entered my life, you have been an amazing challenge.”
There’s a low rumble of laughter from the people who remember how Emily and I butted heads for weeks when we first met. How she called me out on my crap, how I challenged her to love this family, and how I was pissed she stood in the way of my goals. Then I think of how she learned to trust me, how I learned to trust her, and how we learned to love each other.
I think of how terror seized me when she was held by a rival motorcycle club. How I was afraid that they would harm her, how I knew then I didn’t want to live without her, and how I marveled at her courage when she saved her father’s life.
“But I liked the challenge. Craved it even. You have taught me how to be a better man, how to chase after what I want in life and you’ve taught me how to love. I wanted this moment to be perfect. I’ve spent months trying to create the perfect time alone with you so I could propose, but I didn’t propose because it wasn’t perfect enough. Because that’s what I want for you Emily—I want you to have it all.”
She places a hand to her heart and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. “But you and I have never been perfect. We’ve taken so many untraveled paths, and we’re better for it. So maybe this is our perfect—this moment, on this porch, where we had our first real conversations together.”
“All these people…” I glance around, “they love you. Almost as much as I do, and you love them back. I don’t need time alone to do this. Me and you, we’re right where we need to be—surrounded by our friends and family.”
With a knot in my throat, I pull the ring out of my front pocket. This wasn’t just three months
of savings, but a year.
Emily watches me as I lower down to not one knee, but two. I’ll beg her if I need. But with the way she’s looking at me now—the same way she did when I first told her that I loved her, the same way she does when I take her into my arms—peace overflows my heart as I already know her answer. “Will you grant me the honor of being your husband?”
Emily’s eyes glisten with tears, happy tears, and she nods repeatedly and holds out her shaking hand to me.
Me.
Oz—Member of the Reign of Terror Motorcycle Club and employee of the security company.
Jonathan—Special Education teacher and part-time soccer coach for the elementary school.
The man who loves her with every ounce of my being. Emily. My Emily is going to become my bride.
I slip the ring onto her finger, and the entire porch and yard descend into shouts of approval and applause. Emily laughs as someone suggests we get married tonight, and Eli fires back with, “No way. Emily’s mom would kill me.”
I cradle Emily’s face with my hands and whisper down to her, “I hope you won’t mind a big wedding.”
“I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t. After all, they’re my family, too. But you’ve been right about one thing tonight, and I’d like to make that right.”
My forehead furrows. “What?”
Her darks eyes spark with excitement and a sexy, sly grin touches her lips. “We do need time alone.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
Her wish, my command. I lean down, swoop Emily up in my arms and a new wave of cheers roars around us as I carry her off the porch and through the crowd, then place her on the seat of my motorcycle.
I slip on and nothing feels as right as her form pressed into my back, her arms wrapped around my waist, and her lips tickling my neck. I start the bike, the engine roars, and the frame rumbles beneath us. I glance back at my fiancée. “You ready?”
“For anything.”
The Novella Collection: A series of short stories for the Pushing the Limits series, Thunder Road series, and Only a Breath Apart Page 19