Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(55)

Beneath me, Bingo stretched, wagging his tail. It was early afternoon. Orange sunlight poured through the blinds behind us, giving everything a dreamy, bright glow.

My heart probably grew several sizes in a few seconds. And for once, I wasn't afraid of it, scared that it'd all be taken away from me in the blink of an eye.

We were a family. We were man and woman, new blood and old. Just two rough bastards and a bitch trying to hang up their darkness, and a sweet, innocent babe who hadn't decided yet who he'd become.

I sat down next to Grandpa, grabbing Joker's hand. He laced his fingers through mine, squeezing to add his warmth, his reassurance, his joy.

Never gonna let you go, babe, he said with his touch. Never.

“How old is he?” Grandpa Taylor asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Just celebrated his second birthday a couple months ago,” I said, reaching over with my free hand to ruffle the little boy's hair.

He looked at me, smiling, and then did the same to the old man. “Dina-dina-sore!” Alex jerked, reaching out with his tiny hands to touch the old man's weathered cheeks.

My mouth dropped open. I looked at Grandpa Taylor apologetically. “I'm sorry! I've been reading him a lot of dinosaur stories lately before bedtime. He doesn't really mean you.”

“Forget it. Just forget it, hon',” the old man said, chuckling and hugging Alex tighter. “Kid's a damned natural. Didn't Joker tell you my road name was Steg? All those spikes we used to wear on our leather and helmets in the old days...”

Laughing, I relaxed, shaking my head. “No, no!”

“Who the f*ck knew the kid had a psychic streak?” Joker said quietly, squeezing my hand tighter. “He's got your brains for sure, Grandpa. Watched him solve the shit outta his numbers game this morning.”

“Damn! You don't know what that means, huh?” Grandpa Taylor looked at us, waiting for us to both lean in anxiously. “Already had a lot of checks to write to catch up on all the birthdays and Christmases I missed. Now, I'm gonna have throw money at him for learning like a good boy, too.”

I laughed. My heart fluttered deep in my chest. Alex really couldn't ask for a better grandfather, and I couldn't ask for a better adopted family, something I thought I'd never have after mama died.

I wasn't blind.

The Deadhands were still out there, ready to ride in anytime and knock everything to hell. But today, I had hope.

I had life. More than I'd had for the past three years, desperately scrapping by all alone, trying to do the best for my baby. And maybe, I finally had love.

Bingo walked over, pushing his big head into my lap. Reaching down, I scratched his head, watching as the dog's tongue rolled out lazily.

“There's one more thing I want to hear about,” the old man said, shooting Joker a sharp look. “When's the wedding?”

Crap. My heart stopped beating in my chest.

Smiling, Joker looked at me, his eyes moving up and down my neck in that slow, f*ck-hungry crawl that had become his trademark. “Soon. Sooner than anybody thinks, Grandpa. I'm gonna level with you – me and this lady are just getting acquainted again after years apart. Too many damned years. I promise you, sure as the vow I made for Freddy, you'll live to see me hitched.”

His grandfather cleared his throat, smiling and shaking his head. “Guess I'm due for a heart attack next week. Gotta do something to move things along.”

Did he really just say that? I broke down laughing, cutting through the awkward silence.

One thing was for sure – the Taylor men took shit from no one. They never gave a single inch. And, of course, they always, always fought until all the rules were bent down to a nub.

Grandpa Taylor bounced Alex on his lap, joking and smiling for another fifteen minutes. Then we made our way out, Joker taking the old man's wheelchair and pushing him back to his room. Before we left him alone, Alex scrambled up in my shoulders, and waved to his grandpa.

“Bye-bye!”

“Bye, kid,” Grandpa nodded, a firm smile on his lips. “Until next time...”

“We'll be here next week,” I promised, quietly praying we'd be able to live up to it.

Anything might happen in the next seven days. This might all fall apart, if Joker and I had another fallout, or maybe the club wars would come to our doorstep.

I was still thinking about it when he led me out, one hand in mine, the other on Bingo's leash. “Babe, what the f*ck? You're walking like you're on nails.”

“It's nothing,” I said glumly. “Just thinking. I wish every day could be this nice.”

“It will be,” he said. There wasn't a shred of uncertainty in his voice. “Because I'm saying it will. Grandpa's been waiting for something like this since the night they got my brother. Haven't seen him that happy since...since, shit, I can't even remember. Maybe not since your uncle's place closed down.”

I smiled. “That was a million years ago,” I said softly, stepping outside into the evening light.

Alex had started to doze in my arms. On our way to the truck, we passed an elderly couple out for a stroll. Probably from the assisted living place attached.

“Not as long ago as you think,” Joker said, leaning in so I could feel his hot breath on my neck. “We've got a million f*ckin' more ahead, Summertime. Trust me. Let's make the most of it.”