Dutch (BLP Motorcycle Clubs #4)

27. Dutch

It was now or never. I gripped the edges of the countertop, trying to work up my nerves. "I'm opening a bike restoration business," I announced, happy the words tumbled out of my mouth.

Makari's eyes shot up. "For real? That's a great idea."

I grinned, my smile spreading across my face. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now.

"Damn, that's big!"

"Yeah, I'm ready for something new."

"What's your plan?" she asked.

I launched my business plan detailing potential locations and the types of bikes I wanted to work on, and my excitement took over. Knowing she was an artist her eyes lit up when I mentioned her possibly doing custom paint jobs.

"This could be good, really good!" she gushed.

I nodded as her expression changed. She bit her lip in contemplation.

"What?" I asked. "What's going on in your pretty little head?"

"I need a favor. Can you take me to my storage unit?"

The request caught me off guard, but I was game. "Are you sure?"

Makari nodded. "Yeah, you're moving forward, so maybe I should, too."

We grabbed our jackets and headed outside to my bike. After a short ride across town, I pulled up to the storage unit, and she approached unit thirty-two. Makari pulled out her keys and opened the lock, pulling the door up.

"Shit, I should have a sale and get rid of some of this stuff," she commented.

I watched as she moved a few boxes before it caught my eye. "Is that?—?"

Makari was already pulling the dusty tarp back, revealing a motorcycle. I could see its potential.

"Damn." I circled the bike. "This is a beauty."

Makari ran her hand over the handlebars, leaving a clean streak. "It was his pride and joy," she softly stated. Finally, she looked up at me. "I want you to take it, restore it, sell it. Use it to kick start your business."

I blinked hard, surprised by the offer. "What? No, this is Malakai's?—"

She cut me off. "Was. And he'd want it to be loved, not rotting away in storage. Time to let it go."

I nodded. This wasn't just some bike. It was a piece of her brother, a link to her past. "Thank you, I'll do it."

I gave Makari a big bear hug, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around.

"He'd like that," she said, giving it one last pat before turning away.

Weeks later, I led Makari through the house in a blindfold. My heart pounded like I was about to pull off a heist. She was moving slowly and cautiously.

"Dutch, what are you doing? It'd better not be no funny shit," she warned, the familiar sass in her voice as she gripped my hand tight.

I chuckled. "Weird shit is my specialty, darling, but I think you'll like it."

"Mm-hmm, the last time a man told me that, I ended up with a unicorn tattoo on my ass." She laughed.

"Damn, and here I thought you were being original with the unicorn ass tat." I laughed.

I led her outside and down the steps, positioning her just right. "Ready?" I asked.

"Take this damn blindfold off before I do it myself!" she squealed.

I untied the bandana and held my breath as I watched Makari's face. First, her mouth fell open as she rushed to Malakai's bike. The custom paint job was a deep purple with chrome accents.

"Shit, this is… I can't believe it!"

I watched her drink in the details, every expression, from shock to happiness, followed by something like nostalgia.

"It's yours," I revealed.

Makari's head snapped up. "What? We said?—"

"I know, but it's a piece of Malakai, and it's still a symbol of moving forward," I explained.

Makari was conflicted, and I could see it in her eyes. She was running her fingers along the handlebars, and I knew her mind had returned to a good memory because she was smiling.

"It's beautiful. Thank you for this. Do you really think I can ride this monster?"

I couldn't help but grin. "I don't know, but you rode the hell outta my monster last night."

Makari swatted at my arm as we laughed together.

"Now, for the second part of the surprise." I held up a picnic basket. "We're going for a ride, and then we're going to have a picnic."

"Okay, that sounds fun, but I might be a little rusty."

"Go lock up while I strap the supplies to my bike."

When she returned, we peeled out and hit the road. Soon, we were leaving the city behind. Makari was in the lead on her restored bike, purring like a brand-new baby. She leaned into every curve, just like Malakai had taught her.

"I thought you said you were rusty?" I shouted over the wind.

"Guess it's like riding a bike."

I laughed at the terrible pun, allowing her to race by me. We rode by fields of golden wheat, their stalks blowing as we passed.

"First one to the big oaks buys dinner!" I yelled, gunning my engine.

"You're on, Knight!"

We tore down the open road neck in neck at times, and for the longest moment, I'd forgotten about the club and all the shit we'd been through. As we rounded the final bend, the massive oak tree came into view. Makari edged ahead in the final stretch. I let her.

"Dinner's on you, Knight," Makari teased, removing her helmet. She was so sexy in this new element. She looked truly alive.

I led her to a clearing near a small stream.

"This is beautiful. How'd you find this place?"

I shrugged, unpacking the blanket. "I come here to clear my head."

I spread the blanket under the shade, and she was watching me, amused.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"I just never imagined you… us having a picnic. It's nice," she admitted.

I smiled, and as we settled on the blanket, peacefulness seeped in immediately. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the scenery.

I reached for the basket and unpacked our lunch. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

"I'm starving. What's on the menu, Chef Dutch?"

I laughed at the nickname. I laid out fresh fruit, cheese, and sandwiches. After we'd eaten for a bit, I pulled out a bottle of champagne, popped the cork, and filled the flutes.

"How about a toast?"

"Okay, but what are we toasting to?" Makari asked.

"You'll see."

I watched as she brought the flute to her lips, and I held my breath.

"What…" Makari tilted her glass, her eyes widening at the object inside.

I was already moving into position, propping myself up on one knee. "I know we've been through hell and back, and we are both scarred people, but you make me want to do better, be better."

Her eyes were on me, and I swallowed hard.

"You are my ride or die, and though I can't promise it will be easy, I will fight for us every day I have left on this earth. Makari London, will you marry me?"

Makari was silent, and I swear that moment felt like forever. Then tears spilled down her cheeks, and she nodded. "God, yes, big man," she choked out.

I pulled the real ring out of my pocket and slid it on her finger, my hand shaking. She jumped on top of me, and we kissed and laughed all at once.

"I love you," I murmured in her hair.

Makari pulled back and cupped my face. "I love you too."

After a few minutes more of kissing, Makari sat up. "Does this mean I get to wear white leather to our wedding?"

I threw my head back and laughed. "Wear whatever the hell you want, baby, as long as you're there."

I poured more champagne, and this time, we toasted for real.