Epilogue - Sarah
Two years later
"Come on, Evie! I can't be late picking up Ellie from daycare," I call out, checking my watch as I climb the clubhouse steps.
The September air has that perfect crispness that makes me think of apple cider and pumpkin patches. Activities I need to add to our weekend plans. At two years old, Ellie is old enough now to enjoy fall traditions.
Ellie. Our daughter. The thought still brings an involuntary smile to my face. Eleanor Grace Carter, with her father's striking green eyes and my brown hair, a perfect blend of us both. The little girl who made me a mother and transformed Ryan from restless outlaw to devoted father.
The clubhouse door is unlocked, but surprisingly quiet as I step inside. "Evelyn? I got your text about the book club meeting, but I can only stay for—"
I stop short, my words dying in my throat.
The main room of the clubhouse has been transformed.
The usual pool tables and bar stools have been pushed aside, replaced by strings of twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling.
White rose petals form a path across the hardwood floor, leading to the center of the room where Ryan stands, looking more nervous than I've ever seen him.
He's wearing a crisp button-down shirt instead of his usual t-shirt, his blond hair neatly combed, his face freshly shaved. No leather cut in sight.
"Ryan?" I whisper, my heart suddenly racing. "What is this?"
"There's no book club meeting," he says, a small smile playing at his lips. "That was just to get you here."
I step further into the room, following the trail of petals toward him. "Where is everyone?"
"Giving us some privacy." He reaches for my hand as I approach. "Reaper's watching Ellie with Evelyn. They'll bring her by later."
Now I'm really confused. Ryan has never been one for grand gestures or surprises. He shows his love in quieter ways—making coffee before I wake up, taking Ellie for early morning walks so I can sleep in on weekends, installing bookshelves in our home office without being asked.
"What's going on?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He takes both my hands in his, and I notice they're trembling slightly. "Two years ago, right here in this clubhouse, I realized something that changed my life forever."
"That I was pregnant?" I guess, still trying to piece together what's happening.
He shakes his head. "No, that I wasn't letting you go.
Ever." His green eyes, still capable of making my heart skip after all this time, hold mine steadily.
"When those Vultures MC attacked and I thought you might be hurt, something broke open inside me.
I knew then that my life would never be the same.
Not only because of the baby, but because of you. "
My breath catches as understanding begins to dawn. "Ryan..."
"These past two years have been the best of my life," he continues. "Our house, our daughter, our life together… It's more than I ever thought I deserved. But there's still one thing missing."
And then he's dropping to one knee, still holding my hands, and I'm suddenly blinking back tears.
"Sarah Collins," he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box.
"You saw something in me that I couldn't see in myself.
You gave me a family when I thought I'd never have one.
You love me despite knowing the worst parts of me.
" He opens the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"
The tears spill over now, running freely down my cheeks. "Yes," I whisper, then louder, "Yes!"
His hands are steady now as he slides the ring onto my finger, then rises to pull me into his arms and kisses me.
When we finally break apart, I can't stop looking at the ring sparkling on my finger. "It's beautiful."
"Viper and his girlfriend helped me pick it out," he admits with a grin. "They said if I chose something too flashy you'd never wear it."
I laugh, imagining gruff, scarred Viper in a jewelry store. "They know me well."
"They all do," Ryan says, gesturing around us. "The club, they're your family too now. They love you almost as much as I do."
It's true. Over the past two years, the Outlaw Order has become a strange extended family to me.
Not just Ryan's brothers-in-arms, but their partners too—Evelyn, Debbie, and the others who've formed our little community of women navigating this unusual life.
Even my first graders know "Mr. Ryan and his friends with the motorcycles," who sometimes escort me to school events, their cuts exchanged for button-downs much like the one Ryan wears now.
"Should we go tell them the good news?" I ask, knowing the others are probably waiting anxiously nearby.
Ryan shakes his head, pulling me close again. "In a minute. Right now, I just want to hold my fiancée."
Fiancée. The word sends a thrill through me. After two years and one beautiful daughter together, we're finally making it official. Not that we needed a piece of paper to prove our commitment. We've been committed since the day I told him I was pregnant and he promised to stand by my side.
But there's something undeniably special about this moment, about the thought of standing before our friends and family and declaring our love.
"What are you thinking?" Ryan asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"That I never imagined my life would turn out this way," I admit. "When I met you that night at the bar, I never dreamed we'd end up here."
"Disappointed?" he teases, though I detect a hint of genuine concern behind the question.
I reach up to trace his jawline, still marveling that this beautiful man is mine. "The opposite. I thought I knew what I wanted—a quiet, predictable life. What I needed was you."
His smile is radiant, lighting up his entire face in a way few people ever get to see.
Ace, the dangerous outlaw, has his own kind of smile—sharp and cocky.
But this smile belongs to Ryan, my Ryan, the man who reads bedtime stories to our daughter in different voices and brings me wildflowers he picks on his morning rides.
"I love you," he says simply.
"I love you too."
The clubhouse door bursts open then, and the quiet moment is shattered by the arrival of our extended family.
Reaper carrying Ellie on his shoulders, Evelyn beside him with a knowing smile, Viper looking uncharacteristically pleased with himself with his girlfriend by his side, Ghost with his arm around Debbie, Wilder with Emma, and Blade with his girlfriend.
"Mama!" Ellie squeals, reaching for me from her perch on Reaper's shoulders. "Down, Reap!"
Reaper obliges, setting my daughter on her feet. She toddles over to us, her little face lighting up when she spots her father.
"Daddy!" she exclaims, raising her arms to be picked up.
Ryan scoops her into his arms, planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. "Hey, princess. Guess what? Mommy said yes."
Ellie looks between us, clearly not understanding but happy to be included. "Yes!" she repeats, clapping her hands.
The room erupts in cheers and congratulations, champagne bottles appear from nowhere, and suddenly we're surrounded by hugs and well-wishes.
As Evelyn pulls me into a tight embrace, she whispers, "Told him the book club excuse would work."
I laugh, wiping away fresh tears. "I can't believe you were all in on this."
"Family takes care of family," she says simply.
Family. Such a simple word for something so profound. I look around at the faces surrounding us. These rough men and the strong women who love them, all celebrating our happiness as if it were their own.
And in a way, it is. We're connected now, bound by more than just Ryan's membership in the club. We're bound by shared experiences, by the battles we've faced together, by the love we've found in the most unexpected places.
Ryan catches my eye across the room, Ellie still in his arms, and the look we exchange contains a thousand unspoken promises. We've come so far from that first night, from the frightened pregnant teacher and the guarded outlaw biker who didn't believe in love.
Now we have a home with a nursery painted yellow, a yard with a swing set, photo albums filled with memories, and a future stretching out before us, bright with possibility.
As Ryan makes his way back to me through the crowd, I touch the ring on my finger, feeling its solid weight—tangible proof of an intangible bond.
"Happy?" he asks softly, wrapping his free arm around my waist.
I lean into him, our daughter between us, and know with absolute certainty that I've found exactly where I belong.
"Perfect," I answer, and it is.