Epilogue
SHAWN
ONE MONTH LATER
The line is out the door and starting to round the corner. I’ve never seen anything like it in all of my life. I don’t know what to do, what to say. And I’m too busy to even think, which is absolutely amazing. I move through the line, helping each person one by one.
But what I do know is that I can’t wipe the smile from my lips. Every single second is magical. And when the last customer leaves, my body slumps as I let out one last breath and click the dead bolt locked, then turn the open sign to closed.
I spin around and slowly sink down to my ass, my back against the door, and I smile as I stare straight ahead at my empty bakery case.
Everything.
Every single item I baked this morning and restocked this afternoon is gone.
Gone.
Sold.
It only took a couple of farmers’ market trips with a little card attached to every item sold to build my business.
Although every day is not this way, just this one, just this Valentine’s Day. I made a little extra, more than usual, because my daily business has been steadily increasing, but I never imagined it would completely explode.
Like a volcano eruption.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I lift my butt off the floor and pull it out. As I slide my thumb across the screen, I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my lips before I bring the device to my ear.
“Hey, love,” I whisper.
“You sound exhausted.”
I am, but not for only one reason, for more.
For two.
Placing my hand against my belly, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I try to hide the smile, but then I decide to release my lip because nobody is here to see my goofy-ass smile anyway, so there is no sense in hiding it.
“I am,” I exhale. “I sold out. Everything I had in the case is gone.”
There is a moment of silence when I wait for his reaction. I’m not sure what he’s going to say. What he’s thinking. So I wait. Then he lets out a whoop, and my heart begins to slam against my chest.
“Hell yeah,” he calls out. “I fuckin’ knew you would do it, sweetness. I fuckin’ knew it.”
Crossing my legs, I shake my head and pinch my eyes closed because he did know it. He knew it. He believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. He rooted for me when I was ready to walk away from my whole life’s dream.
“You did, Elvis,” I agree as tears spring to my eyes and begin to roll down my cheeks.
I thought I’d had the best day of my life, bakery-wise, at least three times before today, but they weren’t. Not by a long shot. This is the best day. This day right here. Best day ever.
“I’ll be there in about an hour. That give you enough time to clean up?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I exhale.
There is a silence before he clears his throat. “Love you, sweetness. Proud of you.”
Elvis ends the call without another word. I don’t know how to respond to his praise. I’m still not used to it, even though I love it.
I love the way he supports me.
We get looks when I walk beside him. At first, I thought that maybe it was because of our large age difference; fourteen years can be considered salacious, but then I realized it was because of his cut. The vest he wears.
It’s the name Dark Horse MC that’s stitched on the patch across his shoulders more than anything.
Even though Pineville is small, and I’ve lived here my whole life, the Dark Horse MC was always lore to me. This thing you do not talk about, you don’t see, and you do not touch. I never paid much attention to them because I was busy trying to build my life, my bakery.
But now, I notice them. I notice all of them and the way other people do as well. They’re scared, the MC is feared, but mostly, people seem to stare in fascination. Forcing myself to my feet, I move around the bakery, touch every solid surface and revel.
I can’t believe this is real.
Eventually, I begin to clean everything up, and by the time Elvis is using his key to let himself through the front door, I’m placing the last clean bowl back on the shelf. Lifting my head, I look up at him. He watches me from the opposite side of the counter.
“You ready, baby?” he asks.
He doesn’t call me baby often, but I love it when he does. I don’t know which I like better—sweetness, baby, or when he says my name—Shawn.
“I’m ready,” I whisper.
“Come on.”
I move around the counter and stop in front of him.
He tips his head down and looks into my eyes.
He curves his lips up into a crooked smirk that I absolutely love.
Lifting his hand, he cups my cheek. He doesn’t say anything as he watches me, waiting.
I’m acting weird, I know that, but I don’t care.
This is important.
“I’m ready to start a life with you, Elvis,” I exhale. “You aren’t just King to me. You’re my king. You’re the man I never dared allow myself to dream of. You are my everything, and I thought you should know that you’re also going to be a father soon.”
He blinks.
Wordlessly watching me.
His gaze searches my own before he dips his chin and touches his mouth to mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss, but this isn’t like others. This isn’t hard and consuming. It’s soft, almost sweet, and a shiver of desire slides down my spine.
Nibbling my bottom lip, he slowly shifts his mouth from mine, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine and lets out a sigh.
“Fuck,” he exhales.
Trembling, I’m not sure if this is good or bad news, so I stay frozen, my muscles tightening with every second that passes. Then he laughs softly and lifts his head. He’s got the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.
Before he speaks, I feel his palm pressing against my belly. “You’re sure?” he asks.
I hum. “I am.”
Then I don’t realize what he’s doing, but he falls to his knees and touches his mouth to my belly as his fingers grip my hips and he holds me still. He looks up at me, his eyes focused on mine, searching them as he grins.
“Marry me, sweetness. Not just because of this baby but because I love you. Be my wife. You’re beautiful and sexy, but you’re also kind and so fucking sweet. You’re everything I don’t deserve. But I’m keeping you.”
I cup his cheeks as I look down into his face. “Yes, Elvis. I’ll marry you but don’t ever say that you don’t deserve me. Because it’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”
He chuckles and stands tall, but I don’t move my hands from his cheeks as he lowers his head and touches his mouth to mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss. He keeps his lips touching mine before I speak.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love every fuckin’ part of you, sweetness.”
No other words need to be spoken.
This is him.
This is me.
This is us and the life we are going to build together.
Elvis, me, and this baby.
That’s all that matters. The past is bullshit. It doesn’t mean anything because the future, that is the only thing that really means a damn thing. And that is looking pretty bright for the first time in my entire life.
KING
ONE MONTH LATER
Pulling the truck up to the warehouse, I look around. There is nobody here, and there should be. Whoever the fuck is supervising the load being put onto the truck should be here. I look over at Gnaw and clear my throat before I speak.
“This feels weird,” I mutter.
“It does. Should we leave? You think it’s a setup?”
I don’t think it’s a setup, at least not by the cops. I think it might be a club fucking with us. I’m not sure who, though. Nomad Kings are fucking gone and dead. They were our biggest local enemy. On a national scale, I have no fucking clue.
“Well,” I say, “we can’t sit around and just stare at the shipment, hoping it’ll get loaded up all by itself.”
Climbing down from the truck, I mutter to myself that this is bullshit. I’m the vice president of the club and should not be doing the manual labor and heavy lifting. But at the same time, I have to do my part, so here I fucking am.
“Your woman’s having a kid. I still can’t believe you’re going to be a father. There haven’t been kids in the club since we were young,” Gnaw says.
He’s not wrong. Except I wasn’t raised in the club. Not the way some of the guys were. I don’t say that, though. They think of me as their brother. Before I can respond, I watch as a man walks around the building. I don’t recognize him, but I recognize the cut he’s wearing.
Standing in front of the shipment, I cross my arms over my chest and watch him, waiting for what he’s going to say, warn, threaten, or whatever the fuck he’s got on his mind. He smiles and takes a step backward without a word.
Gnaw has stopped moving as well and stands beside me. We watch as the man turns around and walks out into the dark parking lot. He climbs onto his bike, starts the engine, and rides away.
I shift my attention to Gnaw and arch a brow. “That was the weirdest shit ever,” I say.
He nods his head. “Welp,” he says. “We got shit to do and can’t stand around here all night staring after that fucker.”
Laughing, I jerk my chin, and together, we make quick work of the load. I double-check that everything is where it’s supposed to be and that the guy didn’t take anything. He didn’t. We climb back into the truck and head out to the unloading point.
It doesn’t take long. The load is a semilocal one. Doesn’t pay as much as others, but everything aligned, and it was the right fit. When we arrive at the drop-off point, my phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out and smile at my dad’s name on the caller ID.
Gnaw jumps out of the truck to get started while I slide my thumb across the screen and lift it to my ear.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for weeks,” I announce as my greeting.
“You people wanted to expand,” he grunts. “I’m working harder now than I ever was up in Pineville.”
The way he says it, I know he likes it. So I let him do his bitching, but this call isn’t about him bitching. I have something I want to tell him. No, I need to tell him. He was actually the first person I called, but since he didn’t answer, I couldn’t keep it inside a second longer.
“I’m going to be a father,” I blurt out.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“I’m not.”
There is a moment of silence, then he lets out a shout. “Fuck yes,” he says. “Keep her. I’ve come across many women in my time, and trust me when I tell you that Shawn is a good one. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I don’t plan on it,” I chuckle. “I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”
“Thank fuck.”
Ending the call, I stare out the windshield and smile. Yeah, thank fuck, I think. I agree with his sentiment. Thank fucking fuck that she said yes. I can’t believe that this is my life, that she is really mine.
All mine.
I can’t fucking wait for the rest of our lives. If they’re anything like the past few months, I’m in for a goddamn wild but perfect life.
I can’t fucking wait.