Chapter Nine
Amelia
“We’re not going home?”
I grab Hawk’s shoulders as I climb off the motorcycle, taking in the strange environment.
We’ve parked in front of a massive ten-story building with graffiti tastefully drawn on its walls, but even more startling are the men standing outside, smoking.
I find my eyes widening at the sight of a particular guy with some kind of animal tattooed on the side of his head.
Is this the infamous Steel Rebels clubhouse?
I’ve heard about it. It’s nearly impossible to come across someone in the city who doesn’t know who the Steel Rebels are or what their clubhouse looks like, seeing as it’s always flashing on the news. My grandfather would be horrified if he were alive to witness me coming to this part of town.
A hand slides into mine and I turn to look at Hawk, meeting those electric-blue eyes that seem to light a spark in me every time they’re on me. “Are you nervous?” he asks, his hand tightening on mine.
“No.”
“It’s okay if you are,” he tells me. “The media does an amazing job at making us out to be monsters, but I promise you that everyone here is nice. They’re my family, and I want them to be yours too.”
Neither of us have any family left, and now we’re about to craft our own with Wren. “I’ll love them as long as you do.” I lean into his touch, feeling giddy now that the whole fake marriage issue isn’t hanging over our heads. “Besides, I’m with you. I don’t have any reason to be scared.”
Still, I find myself wondering why he would bring me here. Perhaps to pick up Wren, but then again, Hawk wouldn’t really risk riding with Wren on the bike. Maybe he just wants to introduce me to his friends. I’ve met the club wives and they seemed nice.
“Let’s go.”
Hawk guides me to the entrance and pulls open the heavy oak door, and I’m immediately hit by the scent of leather and gasoline, but there’s something else. A sweet aroma of dessert.
I’ve never been to a clubhouse before, but I’ve heard stories.
They’re supposed to be dark and intimidating, which makes me question whether it’s common for this one to have streamers in vibrant colors snaking across the beams. There are balloons, so many balloons that bob and sway above us.
Some have musical notes and others have my name scrawled across them in bright, playful fonts.
And there are flowers, lots and lots of flowers neatly arranged around the room.
A party?
My eyes dart around, trying to take it all in. The old wooden tables are pushed together, laden with platters of food—a feast that looks more like a gourmet spread than a biker’s fare.
“Hawk,” I whisper in a shuddering breath, my eyes locked on the banner with my name on it. “What is this?”
He doesn’t get to respond before the room erupts with cheers and laughter as the people rush toward us—large men I’ve never met and ladies, some of whom I met after our courthouse wedding.
The same ladies who took Wren so Hawk and I could make the most of our wedding night.
The same ones who watched baby Wren so I could attend the audition and Hawk could attend the court hearing.
And when my violin was broken, they had someone bring me another so I wouldn’t miss out on the chance of fighting for my dreams.
And now, they’ve thrown me a party. I assume it’s mine, if the large banner with my name on it is anything to go by.
“Welcome to the club, Amelia.” Jade, who gifted me the nightgown on my wedding night, steps forward and takes my hand, pulling me away from the entrance and to a group of other ladies. “And congratulations on winning first chair.”
“How did you know?”
“Hawk organized this party in advance. He was confident you would win, and so were we.”
“What?”
She stops and turns to look at me. “I heard you,” she says. “When we went to Hawk’s apartment to set up for Wren, we heard music coming from next door. So beautiful.”
“I was there too and we all stopped to listen,” Chelsea, another wife says. “It was indeed beautiful.”
My heart swells with affection for these ladies I’ve met only once before, and yet they’re treating me like they’ve known me forever.
Like my achievement means something to them.
“Thank you,” I whisper, tears clogging my throat.
“For the party and for welcoming me. I never thought I would live to see a day when I would walk into a clubhouse to be greeted by flowers, balloons, and streamers.”
The ladies laugh as another one chimes in. “If given a choice, the men would have used rusty metal, chains, and bandanas to decorate the place. We had to bribe and seduce our husbands into letting us add a bit of color, even for just a day.”
I laugh, touched by the effort these ladies put in for someone they barely know. Suddenly, I understand what Hawk meant when he said the club was his family.
I take my time getting to know them, surprised and oddly comforted when I learn that only one of them was raised in the club and being in the MC world is almost as new to them as it is to me.
In a span of a few minutes, I already have a plate in my hand, a glass of wine, and people conversing with me like they’ve known me their entire lives.
“Will you play the violin for us later?” Jade asks.
“If you like,” I say, excited by the prospect of sharing a part of me with as much love as I have received. Still, there’s someone missing from the party.
“Marie is bringing her down,” Jade says when she notices me glancing around. “How do you feel about being a wife? A mother?”
“Fulfilled,” I say with a smile, and when a loud cry tears through the air, my head whips around so fast I nearly give myself whiplash.
And then I’m moving before my mind can process what I’m doing, and my heart doesn’t settle until Wren is cradled in my arms and those bright, teary blue eyes are blinking up at me.
“Hi there, my little songbird. Miss me?”
She immediately goes quiet and blinks up at me, waving her small hands about. I thought about her the entire audition, slowly realizing that I’d found a new dream for myself. I realized that music would forever be my first love but these two—Hawk and Wren—are my lasting love.
I’m tied to them for life.
The rest of the party goes on with ease as I’m introduced to everyone.
The club members welcome me warmly despite their massive, intimidating frames.
Wren is passed to the bikers and we all get a laugh out of it as they hold her awkwardly as one would a grenade they’re afraid to drop.
Later, when everyone has eaten, I grab my violin and perform a set of random music, from classics to pop.
The crowd joins in, singing out of tune but together it’s charming.
Hawk was right.
This is indeed more than a motorcycle club. It’s a family.
***
It’s well past eight when we make it back to the apartment.
My cheeks are hurting from all the laughter and partying.
We feed Wren, then give her a bath before putting her in her crib for the night.
While Hawk is on the phone, I head into the bathroom to prepare a bath for us.
After the day we had, I figure we need one too.
Once it’s ready, I strip out of my clothes and start to step in when a deep raspy voice from behind stops me.
“Hmm, what a way to stir a man’s appetite.”
I flush as I always do in the presence of my hot neighbor turned husband. “You’re still dressed. Maybe we should rectify that.”
His eyes fire up with heat as he steps into the room, placing the baby monitor on the shelf as he approaches me. “And how do you plan to go about it?”
Naked, I push him back against the wall and slide my hands under his shirt, sighing as I caress those rippled muscles.
Suddenly, I want to lick them. I want to take my time running my tongue over his hard muscles and reveling in the feel of them, but then again, there’s something about him being fully dressed and me being naked that turns me on.
“I like you this way,” I say, moving my hands lower. With my eyes locked on his, I unbutton his slacks, then slide my hand into his boxers, fisting his massive cock. He’s hard and warm in my hands. And so big. “Thank you for today.”
“You deserve the world, Amelia,” he says, leaning down to brush his mouth over mine. “I’ll give it to you on a platter.”
I nibble his bottom lip before pushing back to look at him. “You already have.”
“Fuuuck,” he groans when I start stroking him, loving the feel of him in my hands and the way his eyes darken.
The sound he makes as I work him over with my hand.
I push up and rub my sensitive nipples against his shirt, burying my face in his neck and licking at his skin, losing myself in his scent.
“I used to think about this all the time in my apartment,” I confess, using his precum to slick my hand. “I would run into you in the hallway and blabber like an idiot, then hurry into my apartment, prepare a bath, and touch myself to thoughts of you.”
His breathing grows ragged. “How long?”
“The entire time I’ve known you,” I whisper. “Doesn’t that make me weird?”
“If it does then let’s be weird together, because I did the exact same thing.
” He nudges my hand away and, in a flash, I find myself spun around and with my back to the wall.
He grips my knee and brings it to his hip, lining his cock with my sex.
“We don’t have to imagine anymore when we can have the real thing. ”
“Oh,” I gasp when I feel the press of his cock, and my eyes flutter closed as he inches into me. Filling me. Stretching me with his massive girth. “Hawk—”
“No, don’t close your eyes,” he rasps, forcing them to snap open and focus on his. “Keep looking at me. You’re not alone in your bathtub anymore. I’m here. In the room with you. Touching you.”
“Yes,” I whimper, grabbing his shoulders when he starts rocking into me. It takes real effort to keep my eyes open but I do, and I keep them on him. Soaking in every violent shudder, every fevered groan and soft but heated caress.
It’s slow.
And it’s loving.
Miles apart from the feral ride back at the music hall. This time, our lovemaking is full of promise and affection, and when we come apart, it happens nearly at the same time. Our pleasured sounds echo in the bathroom as we renew our marriage vows without words.
As we rewrite fresh ones.
Later, when our bodies are no longer singing from the sex and we’re soaking in the tub, I allow myself to relax and re-live the day. Heck, this has been the best day, week, and year of my life.
“I have one more thing for you,” Hawk says when I start drifting.
“You’ve already given me enough presents,” I hum lazily. “You’re really making me look bad in this relationship.”
He chuckles and I watch as he reaches for his pants and searches through the pockets until he finds what he’s looking for. I gasp when I see the box, and when he opens it to reveal a ring with a center ruby, tears crowd my eyes.
He does know me.
But how?
“I overheard you talking to Wren about your grandfather,” he says, taking the ring out of the box and lifting it, the red gleaming dangerously against the light. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you mention that ruby is your birthstone. Something else you share with your grandfather.”
“So you went out and bought me a ring?” I sniff, the tears spilling down my cheeks. “I think I’m the one who saved a nation in a past life.”
I offer my hand and he slides the ring on, a perfect fit. Like everything else about us. “I love you,” I say, turning my head to brush my mouth over his, my heart swelling with more affection than I thought one could have for another. “You’re everything to me.”
“I love you,” he says, returning the kiss that fast turns heated. Soon, we’re making love again in the tub, once again renewing our vows. Rewriting them again and again.