Chapter 25
Tank
On the day of our wedding, the Roost was transformed from a rugged biker bar into a place fit for a queen. Well, as fit as it could get. The smell of leather and gasoline was still there, mingling with the faint scent of wildflowers we’d managed to scatter around. I stood there in front of the mirror, adjusting my dress one last time, full of nerves.
My dress was nothing like the typical white wedding gown. It was an ivory lace number, hugging my curves in all the right places with a slit up the side that said I was still the badass bitch everyone knew. The neckline plunged just enough to be sexy but not trashy, and the back was laced up with thin satin ribbons. My veil was a simple one, pinned into my hair, which was loose and wavy, cascading down my back. My boots? Black leather, of course.
Brat, Pixie and Razor were my bridesmaids, dressed in deep burgundy dresses that complemented their badass personalities. They stood by me, looking gorgeous and fierce, ready to kick anyone’s ass who dared to mess with our day. Pixie handed me the bouquet—a mix of wildflowers and roses, tied together with a strip of leather from one of Boiler’s old jackets. It was perfect.
Max, Boiler’s little boy, was our ring bearer. He looked adorable in his miniature biker jacket and jeans, his hair slicked back just like his dad’s. Lisa, Boiler’s sister, was there too, beaming with pride and holding back tears. She’d been like a rock for us, always there when we needed her.
Boiler, my man, stood at the altar, looking every bit the sexy beast he was. He hadn’t abandoned his biker look—not for our wedding, not for anything. He wore his black leather cut over a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. His boots were polished, and his hair was combed back. But it was his eyes, those deep, intense eyes, that had my heart racing. He looked at me like I was the only woman in the world, and damn, it felt good.
As I walked down the makeshift aisle, my heart pounded. The sounds of the bikes revving outside, our family and friends cheering, it was all a blur. My focus was on Boiler. Every step brought me closer to him, to our future.
When I finally reached him, he took my hands in his, squeezing them gently. “You look incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
“Not too shabby yourself,” I teased, feeling the butterflies in my stomach calm down a bit.
The ceremony was simple, just like us. The vows we exchanged were raw and real, full of promises that we knew we’d keep. “I promise to love you with everything I’ve got,” Boiler said, his voice steady. “To stand by you, no matter what. You’re my ride or die, Tank.”
I looked into his eyes, feeling the tears well up. “I promise to be your rock, your partner in crime. To love you fiercely, and to never let anyone come between us. You’re my everything, Boiler.”
We exchanged rings—mine, a simple platinum band with a tiny diamond, his a thick, rugged band that suited him perfectly. When we kissed to seal our vows, the crowd erupted in cheers. The kiss was everything—passionate, full of promise, and the start of our forever.
The reception was a wild party, just as expected. There was plenty of booze, loud music, and dancing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much. We cut the cake, a badass black and red creation that tasted as good as it looked and danced our first dance to a classic rock ballad that had always been our song.
For our honeymoon, Boiler had planned a trip that was so us. We were hitting the open road on our bikes, riding up the coast to a secluded cabin by the beach. It was the perfect getaway—just the two of us, the roar of our engines, and the promise of new adventures.
As we left the Roost, the wind in our hair and the sunset on the horizon, I knew that we were ready for whatever came next. We’d been through hell and back, but we were stronger for it. Together, we could face anything. Together, we were unstoppable.
The End for Now