EPILOGUE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
The roadside art store smells like paint, coffee, and desert dust. Mine.
Still mine. I smile softly while rearranging hand-painted wildflower mugs near the front window as late afternoon sunlight spills gold across the worn wooden floorboards.
Outside, heat ripples over the highway stretching through miles of dry Arizona desert while motorcycles crowd the gravel lot beside the attached garage Ryder and the boys built over summer.
The sign above the building reads: DEL & DUST
I hated the name at first. Ryder refused to change it. Said it suited me. Now I can’t imagine it being called anything else. The bell above the shop door jingles.
“Tell me Beast didn’t already buy all the skull mugs again,” Knuckles calls.
I laugh instantly. “No promises.”
Knuckles wanders in carrying two iced coffees and wearing grease stains across a faded black Sons of Havoc shirt. He drops one beside me before immediately poking at a canvas resting against the counter.
“You know these are getting expensive online now?”
“People are weird.”
“Says the woman married to a nomad biker.” Fair point.
I take the coffee gratefully while he continues snooping through half-finished paintings like an overgrown raccoon.
Through the open workshop doorway, I can hear Ryder outside with Beast working on a bike engine.
Low voices. Tools clanking. The occasional rough laugh.
The sound settles deep inside my chest instantly.
Home. Knuckles notices my expression and grins.
“You got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The heart-eyes look.”
I roll mine dramatically. “I do not have heart-eyes.”
“You absolutely do.”
“I absolutely don’t.”
“You’re literally smiling at engine noises.”
Before I can defend myself, Ryder walks into the shop wiping grease from his tattooed hands with a rag. And just like always… Everything inside me reacts instantly. His eyes find mine first. Always first. Like every room still starts and ends with me.
The wedding band on his finger catches sunlight as he tosses the rag onto the counter.
Dark hair slightly messy. Black Henley stretched across broad shoulders.
Tattoos disappearing beneath rolled sleeves.
Scar cutting through one brow. Beautiful.
Dangerous. And all mine. His gaze drifts slowly over me, lingering on my oversized sweater, paint-stained jeans, and messy bun.
“You eat lunch?”
I snort softly. “There it is.”
Knuckles makes gagging noises behind us. Ryder ignores him completely and walks straight toward me.
“You didn’t answer.”
“Yes, husband. I ate lunch.”
“Actual food?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrow slightly like he’s deciding whether I’m lying.
Honestly? Fair. I’ve been distracted lately.
Busy with orders. New commissions. Expanding the shop.
Half the time I forget meals until Ryder practically growls at me to sit down and eat something.
Apparently satisfied with my answer, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me gently against his chest. Knuckles groans dramatically. “Oh my God. You two are disgusting.”
“Get out,” Ryder says flatly.
“Hostile workplace.”
“You don’t work here.”
“Emotionally I do.”
I laugh quietly against Ryder’s chest while Knuckles continues muttering under his breath and disappears into the garage again. The second he’s gone, Ryder’s expression softens.
“You tired?”
“A little.”
Concern flickers across his face immediately. Always immediate when it comes to me now.
“I’m okay,” I assure him softly. “Just a long day.”
His thumb brushes beneath my eye gently. “You’d tell me if you weren’t?”
The question still catches me off guard sometimes. That someone could care enough to ask. That someone could love me without needing something in return. Grant used concern like control. Ryder uses it like shelter.
“Yes,” I whisper honestly. “I would.”
His shoulders loosen slightly. Then he kisses me. Soft. Slow. Nothing rushed about it anymore. Nothing uncertain. Just love wrapped in rough hands and leather and quiet devotion. I melt into him instinctively, fingers curling lightly into his shirt. The bell above the shop door jingles again.
“Delivery,” Beast grunts.
We break apart laughing softly while Beast stomps inside carrying a large crate against his shoulder like it weighs nothing. I blink at the shipping label. Art supplies. A lot of art supplies. Huge canvases. Professional paints. Easels. I turn slowly toward Ryder.
“You ordered these?”
“Yeah.”
“Ryder, this is expensive.”
His brow furrows immediately. “So?”
Emotion hits me so fast it hurts. Because Grant used money like chains, leverage and Ryder spends it like belief, support and love.
“I mentioned wanting to try bigger canvases once,” I say quietly.
“You do good work.” He shrugs casually. “Figured you should have the space for it.”
My throat tightens painfully. Beast glances awkwardly between us.
“I’m gonna leave now.”
“Smart choice,” Ryder mutters.
The second the shop door closes behind Beast, I throw my arms around Ryder’s neck and kiss him hard enough to push him backward against the counter.
He laughs softly against my mouth. Rare sound, but beautiful not the least. His hands settle instantly on my hips as he kisses me back, slow at first before turning deeper.
Familiar heat curls low in my stomach immediately, even after all this time.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against my lips, amused. “What was that for?”
“You bought me an entire art store.”
“Nah.” His grin turns crooked. “Pretty sure I bought paint.”
I laugh softly, resting my forehead against his.
“You believe in me.”
The teasing fades from his face instantly. Ryder’s hand slides gently along my jaw, rough thumb brushing my cheek.
“Course I do.” Like there was never another option.
Emotion swells so hard in my chest it nearly overwhelms me. Eight months ago I was terrified of everything. Now I stand in a shop that belongs to me with paint beneath my fingernails and sunlight warming my skin while my husband looks at me like I hung the damn stars.
Outside, motorcycles rumble to life. The boys are probably heading toward town. Knuckles shouts something followed by Beast threatening violence. Typical. Ryder glances toward the garage.
“They’re grabbing dinner later. You wanna go?”
I study him quietly for a second. This man. This terrifying, scarred, violent nomad biker who once felt like a storm rolling toward me. He still is a storm. Just one that became mine.
“You hate restaurants,” I point out softly.
“Hate people.”
“But you’ll go anyway because I like burgers from Rosie’s.”
“Yeah.”
I smile.
“Romantic.”
“I contain multitudes.”
I laugh again and Ryder’s expression shifts into something warm and helpless all at once.
Like hearing me laugh still surprises him.
The front windows glow orange as the sun begins sinking lower outside.
For a moment, everything feels still. Peaceful.
Then Ryder’s hand slides slowly over my stomach.
Protective. Instinctive. His eyes meet mine carefully.
“You gonna tell me yet?”
My breath catches. I bite my lip.
“You already know.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Just wanna hear you say it.”
Emotion swells so big inside my chest it almost hurts. I take his hand gently and press it flatter against my stomach.
“We’re having a baby.”
The words barely leave my mouth before Ryder goes completely still.
Not frozen. Not scared. Just… overwhelmed.
His eyes close briefly as a shaky breath leaves him.
And suddenly I understand something terrifying.
This man never thought he’d get this. Any of it.
The peace, roots, family and love. When his eyes open again they’re glassy in a way I’ve only seen a handful of times.
“You sure?” he asks roughly.
I nod, smiling through sudden tears. “Very sure.”
For a second he just stares at me. Then Ryder pulls me into him so tightly I laugh breathlessly against his chest. His face buries against my neck.
I feel the exact moment he breaks emotionally.
Not loudly or dramatically. Just one deep shuddering breath from a man who survived too much ugliness to ever expect happiness to find him anyway.
“Christ,” he whispers hoarsely. “We made somethin’ good.”
Tears sting my eyes instantly. “Yes,” I whisper back. “We did.”
Outside, engines roar down the desert highway. Inside, Ryder kisses me slowly beneath fading golden light while paint dries quietly around us and our future stretches wide open ahead.
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