Quinn 25.
I’m laughing so hard, my side hurts. I’m leaning against Polk’s side unable to even make out shapes and muted colors thanks to the tears filling my eyes.
“I’m so happy…” I begin, giggle, and try again, “as a boy mom that others know my pain!” Betty and Stacy pretend they aren’t amused, but I can hear it in their voices as they ping pong their way through a story of Buchanan and Fields as children.
“Fucker didn’t even hesitate to throw me under the damn bus!” Buchanan roars, throwing a dinner roll at Fields. He’s too busy laughing to notice and it smacks him right in the face causing all of us to lose it more.
I absolutely fucking love these people. Sunday club dinner, and the only ones missing are Wilson and his new bride Tilly, since they left for their honeymoon this morning. My boys and Sammy are running around after shoveling the delicious food into their greedy mouths. I’m sandwiched between my man and Adams and comfortably full.
An expectant hush falls over the table and not for the first time I curse how slowly my eyesight is returning. I tilt toward Adams and whisper, “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see.” He pauses and snorts, “Or maybe not.”
“Asshole,” I mutter to his enjoyment.
Polk shifts next to me to stand. My head jerks up when he starts speaking instead of heading to the bathroom like I expected. “ Fell in love with a girl, I fell in love once and almost completely .” He sings the first lyrics of the famous White Stripes song to boos and thrown food. I smile up at him, clapping my hands. “I fell in love with an incredible woman, and she fell in love with me completely. I hope.” His breath hitches and his voice trembles slightly with nerves. Why is he nervous? And why is he publicly declaring his love and devotion for me—SHITSHITSHITHESPROPOSING!
“And now she’s caught up,” Adams teases from my other side. I smack him and reach out to Polk with my other hand, twisting the fabric of his tee to hold on to something. I’m so pissed I can’t see him properly. It’s still blurry, but miles from complete darkness.
“Quinn…you wanna ride on the back of my motorcycle for the rest of our lives?”
I smirk at him, and twist back to ask Adams, “Are my children in the room?”
“No.”
I turn back to Polk, smirk still in place, “I’m more interested in riding you for the rest of our lives.” The room is chaotic as everyone laughs and cheers, claps and stomps. Polk bends down, lifts me up with his hands on my waist, and smashes his mouth to mine. We kiss as we smile, all teeth and tongue and pure joy.
“I’m gonna make you so happy, Quinn. I promise.”
“You already do, Bently.”
Madison coughs loudly, “Ahem.” Polk chuckles, extending an arm out to accept the box his President hands him. “Polk requested your cut a while ago, Quinn. However, as is my right and the right of my officers, we changed your road name.”
“Pres—”
I press my hand over Polk’s mouth. “Bring it on, Madison,” I challenge, much to Madison’s amusement.
Polk sets the box down on the table, removes the top, and pulls out a black leather vest with the Congressionals MC liberty bell skull on the back and a property rocker for Polk. Polk must read the name they’ve bestowed upon me first because his head snaps up, teeth bared, and he growls at his President.
“Settle down.” I pat Polk’s shoulder, take the cut from his hand and hold it up close to my face so I can read it. “You motherfuckers!” I laugh and ugly cry and bounce on my feet. With shaky hands, I slip my arms through the cut and proudly straighten it over my shoulders.
Audrey stands up across the table, rests on her hands and leans forward to get a better look at my cut. Her little growl is adorable, as are her shaking fists of fury, and foot stomp that accompanies them. “SPASTIC! You guys are a bunch of freaking buttholes!”
“Pet—”
“No! That’s just wrong.”
Clay happily adds, “The other contenders were Nocturia as a nod to her son’s inability to keep his hands out of toilets, Twitch, and Myelin Sheath, MS for short.”
Madison steps close to me, whispering in my ear, “If it bothers you, we can change it.”
“Don’t you dare.” I surprise him by wrapping my arms around his middle and hugging him. He’s stock still for a few seconds before returning the hug with gusto.
“You’ve been a part of us all along. Polk just made it public.”
“Thank you.” I step back, wiping under my eyes to catch the stray tears.
“Alright, everybody, sit the fuck down, we’ve got something else to discuss.” Madison calls everyone to attention, resuming his seat at the end of the table, Betty to his side. “Polk.”
My ol’ man (AHHH! That’s so awesome to say!) sits down and pulls me onto his lap. “In four weeks, we will be hosting a charity poker run in your honor.”
I’m touched, truly, but I don’t need anything, I’ve got all I need right here in this building. “That’s not necessary.”
“Bitch, the money ain’t for you,” Stacy sasses with a grin.
“Oh.”
Polk glares at their end of the table, “Hayes, control your woman.” Stacy stands to probably scratch Polk’s eyes out but Hayes draws her onto his own lap and holds her hostage. She ain’t complaining. Polk pinches my chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing my attention. “The money raised will be to establish funding for patients and their families who require housing for treatments, ambulatory services, travel, home improvements, etc. It will be called the QFW, and we want you to head it. Eventually, it can be branched out to accommodate others with similar debilitating diseases.” I’m…speechless. My jaw drops and I honestly don’t know what to say. This is incredible. Unexpected. Humbling. My brain immediately starts firing off ideas. “Stop,” Polk whispers into my ear, biting my ear lobe after. “We’ll figure it all out later.”
I nod, then one question makes its way through the maelstrom of possibilities. “What is QFW?”
Ford slaps his hand on the table, “Quinn FUCKING Walker.”
“Oh, yeah?” I look down at Polk. “Walker? I ain’t a Walker.”
“You will be.”
“Is that so?”
“You got three months to plan a wedding. You will be my wife, my ol’ lady, and you will bear my last name.”
I shrug casually, though my insides are liquid goo. “I guess.”
Hands on my cheeks, Polk brings my face to his, our breaths mingling, his nose grazing mine, his eyes so earnest and filled with so much emotion. “I love you, Quinn.”
“I love you too, Bent, so, so much.” I inhale a shaky breath, “Thank you for the charity run.” I can’t imagine how many people we can help with an organization like that.
His defeated sigh is unexpected. “It wasn’t me.” He mumbles, but I hear him clear enough. “It was Ford’s idea.”
I kiss him soundly, giving him everything I’ve got in that kiss. A simple touch of flesh and the promise of a lifetime. “You are such an amazing man.”
“I’m your man.” One more kiss, he drops his arms from around my waist, already knowing what I’m gonna do, accepting every part of me.
Walking around the table, I stop behind Ford, sling my arms around his neck, and bend down to whisper, “Thank you, friend.”
His hand reaches up to clasp mine, “Thank you for not giving up on me.” Done with emotional shit because it makes me feel icky, I pinch his cheek and scoot away before he can grab me.
“Buck!” Wheat calls from behind the bar. “Someone’s at the gate for you.”
Buchanan is not a small man. He’s like 6’3” and probably over 200 pounds of muscle. But man, can that guy move fast. He’s up out of his chair and rushing to the front door with more excitement than my kids possess when a new update for their video games comes out.
“Send her in! Send her in!”
We wait with bated breath for Buchanan’s mystery woman to walk through the doors. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little disappointed. She’s pretty as far as I can tell, but I don’t see what the fuss is all about. Long dark hair in braided pigtails, enough makeup that even my diminished vision can see, decent tits, rail thin, short skirt, tight top, hooker heels. Fucking men.
Buchanan slides an arm around her tiny waist, and when I don’t see it reappear, I know he’s grabbing her ass. Proud grin, Buchanan announces, “I’d like you all to meet The Abyss.” I wish I had a nickel for every time one of these yahoos says something so ridiculous that anyone nearby is unable to articulate a response because of the ridiculousness. I’d be fucking loaded!
“Why?” “What?” “The fuck?”
“Boy.” Madison sighs, but I know that tone. I’ve used it myself a ton. Raising boys, no matter how old they are, is exhausting. “Explain.”
“Ok.” I snicker. Buchanan says it like he doesn’t understand why an explanation would be needed. “Her name is Shirley, which makes it sound like she’s super old, but she’s only 26. She’s our new lobbyist.”
“Uh-huh,” Madison encourages him to continue. When Buck remains silent, Madison snaps, “The Abyss?”
“Oh, right.” Buck laughs and he’s the only one. “Her mouth is like the abyss. A deep bottomless cavern of endless orgasmic pleasure.” So poetic…and weird.
Betty stands up so fast her chair flies back and topples over. She grabs an empty glass and chucks it at Buck. He dodges it easily. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you be normal?” Audrey must spend a lot of time with her, because Betty shakes her own fists of fury and stomps her foot before spinning quickly and stomping in the direction of the kitchen.
“Because I’m your kid.” That was the wrong answer. A banshee cry rends the air, and Betty comes flying back across the room. Madison intercepts her, probably saving his son’s life.
Ford, of all people, laughs, “Brother, you are a special kind of stupid.”