Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
STRIDER
I ’m of two minds about our deal. I’m not sure how much Jasmine realises that if we hadn’t met the Mafia halfway, she wouldn’t have been mine. She’d either have been dead or promised to the devil, Michael.
Though he’d professed to despise the way Aster had treated her, I very much doubted he’d be kind. To his sort, women were objects to be played with.
I hadn’t been blind to the way he’d flirted with her that day we’d listened to the wills being read. Part of me had been proud she was someone to be coveted, but the main portion of me was screaming she was mine. I might have had my head up my ass, but I’d removed it in time. I can’t deny I felt relieved to see the back of Michael D’Angelo. I’d worried he wouldn’t just walk away, but after three months, I’ve started to think he isn’t just biding his time.
Part of me worries that I’ve played her, taken the opportunities offered because she was married into the mob. But if I, on behalf of the Soulz, hadn’t played my part, neither of us might be alive.
She already knows I’m no angel, yet has agreed to stay by my side. And after what she told me last night, I know exactly where to take her.
Hopping onto the back of my bike as if she’s been riding it all her life, she’s happy to go wherever I do without asking for an explanation. A true biker’s old lady, she looks great in her leathers and takes every opportunity to ride behind me. Maybe it’s all my years in the saddle, or perhaps I’ve just become accustomed to the idea that fate will hit when it’s your time. I’ve stopped worrying that I’m putting her in danger when she wraps those arms around me. Jasmine loves to ride.
Today I’m not going far, just to the mall, and to a jewellers I’ve often admired. She balks at the cost of the ring I know really suits her, but after a bit of persuasion, she agrees to wear the symbol that tells the citizen world she’s mine.
As the proprietor goes to ring the till up, she leans into me. “I don’t expect this just because I’m pregnant.”
I turn to face her. “Would it help if I tell you that this is the most right thing I’ve ever done in my life?” I hear footsteps returning and glare at the man, who takes the hint and disappears to give us space. Placing my hands on her arms, I try to explain. “Anna and I were childhood sweethearts. Prom queen and prom king, expected to be the fairy tale story and be together all of our lives. When we got married, I said vows I thought I meant until you, Jasmine. When I admitted to myself what I felt for you, when I let my feelings override my guilt for Anna’s condition, looking back, I realise I was just an actor playing a part in my first marriage. The depth of my feelings for you is so different, and part of that is how you complement me completely. Your dreams are mine, and mine yours. So I mean what I said. This feels one hundred percent right.”
Tears appear in her eyes. “I was worried about getting pregnant again so fast. Worried that that was the reason you asked me to marry you.”
Placing my hand on her stomach, I reassure her, “Junior here is the icing on the cake.” I pause, breathe in, then sigh out. “Fate and I haven’t always been friends, you know that. But maybe there’s balance, and with the downs, there are ups. This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me in my life. I’ve been given a second chance. With you. With our child.”
A clearing of a throat reminds me where we are. The manager of the store is waiting, and from his hesitant expression, he’s not sure if I’m going to be getting engaged or not. Putting him out of his misery, I take out my wallet and extract my card.
He can’t take it and insert it into his machine fast enough, passing it over so I can put in my code before I change my mind. Jasmine vibrates at my side, and I know she’s giggling, realising, like me, that he’s making sure he gets his sale.
The velvet ring box goes into my pocket. I wanted her with me to choose it, but the official proposal and offering it to her will come later. Not that she knows what I’ve got planned.
As we go back to the bike, I warn her, “You’re three months pregnant, Jas. This is the last ride on my bike.”
There’s a pout on her lips when she puts on her helmet, but I know she understands. I won’t do anything to risk either her or the precious cargo she’s carrying. In true Jasmine style though, she has the last word. “Then I hope you only want one kid, as I like riding this bike far too much.”
I snort. One, ten, I’ll give her however many she wants. All I need is her in my life.
Since I brought her back to the clubhouse, life’s been so different, yet in many ways, just the same. Things slid back into place. The club girls stopped arguing. They and the prospects did the clean up of the clubhouse without complaining and also learned how to cook halfway decent meals. The bar always runs smoothly and is never out of stock. Brothers’ differences are settled fast, with Jasmine’s quick wit and interjection of comments that settle fights down. She’s the perfect prez’s old lady.
While I hate comparing her to Anna, my life as a brother, let alone prez, would have been so much easier if she’d played her role in the club. I’d been a fool to think I could live two separate lives. Now I have a combined one, and I couldn’t be happier.
I’m going to miss her riding with me. She’s a natural and somehow seems to balance the bike. As I turn into the compound, regret sweeps over me, needing me to remind myself it will only be another six months before she delivers my baby, and once she’s recovered, will be able to ride once more.
In choreographed movement, she dismounts before I paddle walk the bike back into my parking space. I take her helmet, then her hand, and walk beside her into the clubhouse.
It’s exactly as I’d planned. In fact, before we even enter, a child’s squeals and a baby’s cry betray a part of what we’re going to find inside. Jasmine’s startled eyes come to mine, but I don’t explain anything and just push open the door.
Sheri is standing just inside with a three-year-old holding onto her hand and StoryTeller beside her with his young baby, a boy, in his arms. It’s that sight that gives Jasmine a clue that I’ve got something planned, especially as Chaz waves his hand from over at the bar.
I drag her into the middle of the club room, and waste no time. Falling to my knees in front of her, I tell her, “Since the day you first walked into this clubhouse, you’ve been mine. You and everyone know that. You wear my cut, you’re my ol’ lady. And now I want to make you completely mine. I want to tie you to me so even the government can’t take you away.” I pause for the dutiful chuckles and laughs. “So, Jasmine, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” I pull out the ring box.
She chose the ring. She knew this was coming. Even so, it doesn’t stop the tears flooding from her eyes. Pregnancy hormones? Maybe. But she sinks to the floor alongside me. “Strider, Colt ,” she adds my government name in a whisper only I can hear, “I’d be more than honoured to wear your ring and become your wife.”
I slide the diamond band onto her finger, then pull her to her feet. I barely hear the cheers around us as I clasp her in my arms and lay my mouth on hers.
Once I release her, she’s pulled away and hugged in turn by each of my brothers. My back is slapped so hard my skin starts to burn. Then corks pop as the champagne starts to flow.
I can’t remember ever feeling any happier than this, having that sense that now everything’s right in my world. It’s as though I’ve reached the end of one journey and have embarked on another.
And this time, I won’t be alone on the ride.
I’m musing on the luck that for once seems to be on my side when a throaty roar of multiple bikes sounds right outside the clubhouse. It’s so close that the prospect on guard duty must have allowed them inside—or he’s bleeding out at his post.
Music stops. Guns come out of holsters, and I’m pleased to see Buzz lift Jasmine into the safe area behind the bar.
The door bursts open.
Oh fuck .
Moving forward, I snarl, “I could have fuckin’ killed you.” Putting away my piece, I hold out my hand. Slugger takes it, pulls me in, and slaps my back hard.
“Always good to see my boys are sharp,” he tells me, which the enforcers who have accompanied him try hard to stifle their laughs.
Some things change, some things stay the same, I think to myself. Half turning, I wave my hand toward Jas, but she’s already one step ahead and is emerging from behind the bar with bottles of beer on a tray.
Slugger views her up and down, his gaze landing on her long enough to earn him a growl. Ignoring me, he addresses her. “We meet at last.”
Jasmine’s seen him before, but as a club girl and was never introduced. Now, he’s giving her the respect that is due to my old lady. I suppress a grin, easily reading that she’s keeping hold of that tray like a shield, knowing Slugger’s reputation with women well.
To take his focus off her, I relieve Jas of two of the beers. Handing one to him, I casually enquire, “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Turning back to me, Slugger’s mouth widens, corners turning up. “Hear you’ve taken on some new businesses and partnered with the Mafia, I believe?” His brow rises.
I bark a laugh. We hadn’t broadcast anything, but nothing much gets past him. Shaking my head, I gesture toward my office. “Come with me. I’ll fill you in.”
Risking a glance back at Jasmine, I see her grinning, and gesturing with her hand as if to wave me off, totally unfazed that it’s her engagement party Slugger’s barged into and interrupted.
Leading the way with Slugger following, I can’t keep the smile off my face. Fucking great old lady.