Chapter 23 #2
She was gone before either of them could respond, absorbed back into her corner booth with the single-minded focus of a five-year-old on a mission.
"Dragon?" Splinter raised an eyebrow.
"The lumpy one. She's decided it's a dragon."
"It was supposed to be a bear."
"I know. But she has very firm opinions about what things are."
"Wonder where she gets that."
Ivy threw a dish towel at him. He caught it with the quick reflexes she'd learned not to be surprised by, grinning—actually grinning, an expression she saw more often now than she ever would have believed possible that first morning when he'd walked in looking like he'd never smiled in his life.
"Eat your eggs," she said. "I've got customers."
"Yes ma'am."
The morning rush faded into the lunch crowd, which faded into the afternoon lull.
By three o'clock, the diner was mostly empty—a few stragglers nursing coffee, Mae doing homework at her booth, Splinter long since returned to his construction site with a kiss that had made the lunch regulars whistle.
Ivy wiped down the counter, the motion meditative, and let herself breathe.
This was her life now.
Mornings that started with her husband's mouth between her thighs.
Days filled with work that meant something, food that fed people who needed feeding, a business that carried her grandmother's name and her own future.
Evenings at the compound with a family that had chosen her as surely as she'd chosen them.
It wasn't the life she'd imagined. Wasn't the quiet, careful existence she'd built before a man in a too-nice suit walked through her door with a debt that should have destroyed her.
It was better.
The door jingled, and she looked up to find Beth walking in with Tyler in tow.
"Hey." Beth slid onto a counter stool while Tyler made a beeline for Mae's booth. "Coffee?"
"Coming up."
They sat in comfortable silence while Ivy poured. This, too, had become routine—the old ladies dropping by, checking in, being present in ways that didn't require explanation or justification. Rachel came by on Tuesdays. Casey on Thursdays. Beth whenever Tyler had a half day.
Family.
Real family, the kind Ivy had stopped believing existed.
"You look happy." Beth's voice was soft.
"I am." The admission came easy now. "I wasn't sure I remembered how to be. But I am."
"Good. You deserve it." Beth wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. "All of you do."
Through the window, Ivy watched the afternoon light slant across the parking lot.
A few bikes rolled past—brothers on club business, their rumble a familiar comfort now instead of a source of fear.
The mountains rose in the distance, ancient and indifferent, the same mountains that had watched her grandmother build this place and her mother lose it and Ivy almost lose everything.
But she hadn't lost.
She'd found.
Found a man who built her daughter wooden dragons and called them bears. Found a family that extended past blood into something stronger. Found a life that was louder and more dangerous and infinitely more alive than anything she'd dared to imagine.
The door jingled again, and Splinter walked in—early, unexpected, sawdust still in his hair.
"Thought you had work until five."
"Finished early." He crossed to the counter, leaned over, and kissed her in front of Beth and the stragglers and anyone else who cared to watch. "Wanted to see my wife."
My wife.
The words still made her heart skip.
"I'm working."
"I'll wait." He slid onto his usual stool, catching Mae's eye across the diner and waving. She waved back with a crayon-stained hand, then returned to whatever masterpiece was consuming her attention.
Beth made a quiet excuse and collected Tyler, leaving them alone except for the few customers who'd long since learned to mind their own business.
Ivy poured Splinter a coffee he hadn't asked for. He accepted it with a nod that said everything words didn't.
This.
This moment, this man, this life.
This was what she'd been building toward, even when she hadn't known she was building anything at all.
"Love you," she said, because she could. Because she wanted to. Because saying it out loud still felt like a gift she'd never stop unwrapping.
"Love you too." His hand found hers on the counter, rough and warm and certain. "Every day. Forever."
Mae appeared between them, demanding juice and announcing that her dragon was finished and could they please put it on the refrigerator at home because it was her best work yet.
Ivy looked at her daughter—happy, healthy, whole—and at the man who'd become her father in every way that mattered. Looked at the diner that had survived everything the world threw at it and the life she'd rebuilt from the ashes of fear.
That night, after Mae was asleep, Splinter found her on the porch.
The compound was quiet, most of the brothers either out on runs or settled in with their own families. Stars scattered across the mountain sky, and the air carried the crisp promise of autumn coming.
"Hey." He settled into the chair beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"Hey yourself."
"Good day?"
"The best." She leaned into him, letting his warmth chase away the evening chill. "Every day's the best now."
"Sappy."
"You love it."
"I do." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I really do."
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the stars wheel overhead.
This had become their ritual—the quiet hour after Mae went down, before they fell into bed themselves.
Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they just existed together, two people who'd found each other against impossible odds and intended to never let go.
"I've been thinking," Splinter said eventually.
"About what?"
"About building something. For Mae."
Ivy turned to look at him. "You already built her a shelf. And a zoo's worth of animals. And that playhouse in the yard."
"Something bigger." He was quiet for a moment. "A swing set. With a treehouse attached. Saw some plans that might work, out near the big oak behind the residential building."
"That sounds ambitious."
"I've got time." He laced his fingers through hers. "I've got forever, apparently. Might as well use it to build things that matter."
Forever.
The word still made her breath catch.
"You know what I was thinking about today?" she asked.
"Tell me."
"This morning." She smiled in the darkness. "Waking up to you between my legs. Starting the day like that."
"Yeah?" His voice dropped, took on that edge that always made her stomach flip. "You liked that?"
"I more than liked it." She turned in her chair, facing him fully. "I was thinking about it all day. About how it felt. About how much I wanted to do it again."
"Ivy..."
"Mae's asleep." She stood, holding out her hand. "And I've been wet for you since this morning. Are you going to do something about that, or am I going to have to handle it myself?"
He was on his feet before she finished the sentence.
They barely made it inside.
Splinter had her pressed against the wall of their hallway, his mouth hot on her neck, his hands working at her clothes with an urgency that made her gasp.
"All day," he growled against her skin. "You've been thinking about this all day?"
"All day." She yanked his shirt over his head. "Every time I poured coffee. Every time someone ordered eggs. I was thinking about your mouth on me. Your cock inside me."
"Fuck." He lifted her, carrying her toward their bedroom. "You're going to kill me."
"What a way to go."
He dropped her on the bed and stripped her clothes off with efficient hunger, leaving her bare and wanting. Then he was naked too, crawling over her, his cock hard and leaking against her thigh.
"How do you want it?"
"Hard." She pulled him down for a kiss. "Fast. I've been waiting all day—I don't want gentle right now."
"Thank God."
He thrust into her without preamble, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. Ivy cried out, the stretch exactly what she needed, the fullness perfect and overwhelming.
"This what you were thinking about?" He pulled back and slammed home again, setting a brutal pace. "My cock splitting you open?"
"Yes—fuck—yes—"
"You're mine." He punctuated each word with a thrust that drove the breath from her lungs. "This pussy. This body. This life. All mine."
"Yours—always—"
He fucked her like he was trying to prove something—hard and fast and relentless, the headboard slamming against the wall with every stroke. She'd worry about the noise if she could think, but she couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel and take and beg for more.
"Touch yourself," he commanded. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
She reached between them, fingers finding her clit. The added stimulation sent her hurtling toward the edge, and when she fell over it she took him with her—both of them coming together, his cock pulsing inside her as her cunt milked every drop from him.
They collapsed together, panting and satisfied.
"I love you," she said when she could speak again.
"Love you too." He pulled her close, arranging them so her head rested on his chest. "Forever, remember?"
"Forever," she agreed.
Some things were worth more than money.
Safety. Family. Belonging.
The quiet certainty of a man who walked through her door every morning just to see her face.
The fierce love of a daughter who drew dragons and believed in knights.
The weight of a patch by the door that meant she was never, ever alone again.
Morning sex and coffee and pancakes. Evening rituals on the porch, watching stars. Hard fucking against hallway walls because they still couldn't keep their hands off each other after all these weeks.
She knew that now, the way she knew everything that matters.
And she'd never stop being grateful.
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I hope you enjoyed SPLINTER’S BATTLE. If so, I’d love to hear about it, and so would everyone else! Please leave a review!
www.amazon.com/dp/B0H56FB7C6
MORE STORIES BY JOSIE DAVIDSON
MOUNTAIN REAPERS
www.amazon.com/dp/B0FWZSV2ZG
ROUTE 66 OUTLAWS MC
www.amazon.com/dp/B0H8KLT6GP
DELTA DESTROYERS MC