Even crazier, her big, sexy biker had insisted on them getting a round dot tattoo in recognition of every crazy situation they faced together. So far, she had two. It was weird how his club traditions worked. In recognition of dealing with the conflict with Ace, Ryder insisted that the three of them go together to get matching dot tattoos between their thumb and forefinger. It was fun and a reminder that any situation can be resolved with enough bullets and open dialogue. Ven, Hickory, her mother, Ryder, and she had all gotten a coveted dot because of how they pulled together to resolve the Stuart situation. Stuart wasn’t stable enough to leave for outings yet, so he kept drawing his on with a sharpie for now.
At any rate, they had decided the time was now or never for making little Ryders. Tiffany had gone off her birth control and was now about twelve weeks along. Smoothing her hand down her slight baby bump, she could hardly keep the smile off her face. Her life was coming together to be beautiful in ways she could have never anticipated.
She watched Darkness’ little daughter stagger down the aisle ahead of her, throwing red rose petals. Rose was gleefully bringing up the rear, intent on managing the long train on her stylish wedding gown. Watching Ryder’s eyes light up when he saw her made all the fuss of picking it out and having it fitted worth it. Reaching the end of the aisle, they turned to face each other.
Ryder bent down and kissed her before she could stop him. “Sorry, sweetness, I literally couldn’t wait until the end.”
Tiffany had a sneaking suspicion that his overly eager neediness where she was concerned would linger on for years, if not a lifetime. He looked handsome wearing his leather cut under his tuxedo jacket. The crisp, white collar of his shirt made the black leather pop.
Looking up into his beautiful brown eyes, Tiffany knew one thing for absolute certain. Come what may, she’d love him with every ounce of her being till the day she died. If her story were a made for a television show of some sort, now would be the time when the screen faded to black and names began scrolling down the screen. However, real life was never much like the movies.
Therefore, the sound of sirens slowly drawing closer had everyone turning around. What she saw made her smile and Ryder throw back his head and laugh. Stuart had jumped out of a clearly stolen car and was sprinting across the lawn toward the canopy they were getting married under. He was wearing a nice suit and holding a hat in his hand. Sliding into a chair, he grinned at her, shoved the hat on his head, and put on dark sunglasses. Ryder waved away a couple of prospects intent on tossing him out.
Ven strolled out and spoke to the cops who were gathering around the stolen car with their guns drawn. He spoke to them a few minutes and pointed them in a different direction. The last thing bikers wanted was cops crashing their party. Smiling indulgently at her ne’er-do-well friend, Tiffany heard Ryder murmur her own thoughts on the matter.
“Every guy deserves at least one night out of the slammer every now and then.”
“It’s a recovery center for people with post-traumatic stress,” she corrected him with a smile.
“Whatever,” he said with an indulgent smile of his own. “Are we getting hitched or not? If not, I got some other ideas on how to spend the day.”
“Oh, we’re getting hitched,” she promised him. “Then I’m going to get you drunk and take advantage of you.”
Lust blazed to life in his eyes. “You are never going to let me live that one down, are you?”
The minister leaned over the podium and cleared his throat then. “Are we ready?”
Ryder’s chest puffed up, and he nodded. “Bring it, mister priest.”
“He’s actually a Methodist minister,” Tiffany said smartly, just to see the look on his face.
“Don’t give a shit. We need to get on with the sappy stuff. I’ve got kissing, cake, dancing, and fucking to look forward to, and I don’t want to miss any of it.”
Wishing the ground could open up and swallow her whole, Tiffany suddenly caught the humor of her situation, and that’s when the giggling started.
One thing was certain, spending the rest of her life beside her sexy biker would never be dull…and she couldn’t wait to get started.
The end.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Trilogy. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn't sorry.
J.C. lives in the Northwest with her three amazing children and far too many pets, and together they spend much of their free time enjoying movies or the outdoors. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor's in English and when she isn't writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.
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J.C. Valentine, Fighting Dirty
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