Needing Carrie: A Savage Brothers MC Novella(6)

Oh crap.





6





Dancer





“Fuck dude, I’d do anything for you. You get that, that’s for real. But motherf*cker, if you ever tell anyone I tied bows for your wedding, I’ll gut you,” Dragon complains.

“You’re really good at it,” my mom says, patting him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Mary,” Dragon says gruffly, but as soon as she turns away, he flips me off.

“I’d think that’s something lil’ mama would appreciate. You could help her decorate for birthday parties and shit,” Bull adds in.

“I should’ve killed you when you first started calling my woman that.”

“Jesus, you and Dance are fun. So f*cking easy to annoy,” Bull laughs. He’s helping me arrange the archway at the end of the aisle we’ve made. We lined it with a silk, pale ivory runner, and even I must admit it’s beginning to resemble something Carrie would love. The archway is adorned with Carrie’s favorite daisies in pinks and whites. Not my bottle of whiskey, but then this is all for Carrie. I’m giving her the wedding of her dreams. She’s not expecting it. It’s isn’t something she’s ever asked for, but it is what she deserves.

“You know what they say about poking a bear,” I grumble at Bull, as we finally get the archway in place.

“Yeah, it’s f*cking fun,” Bull grins while Dragon and I shoot him dirty looks. It doesn’t matter if we complain. Fucker will keep on doing what he does, because he can. Besides, it’s not like we don’t know he’s crazy over his old lady, it’s just the principal of the matter.

“What do you think, Mom?” I ask Mary. She looks up from the tables she’s been decorating and happiness is glittering in her eyes. She loves Carrie, she wants this wedding almost as much as I do. Carrie’s mine. There’s nothing left to prove the fact. She’s mine completely. But, this wedding will finally seal the deal. This time tomorrow, she will be Carolina Grace Blake. Knowing she will have the same last name as me and our daughter is like something clicking into place. Something I didn’t even realize we were missing.

“It’s beautiful son. Carrie will love it,” she says, giving her approval.

“You think?” I ask, still worried I’m going about this all wrong. Maybe I should have told her. What if she doesn’t want to marry me…shit. Mom must pick up on my nerves because she comes over and hugs me. Mary might not have been my real mother, but she took me in when I was alone with nowhere to go. She provided me with a family. She loved me, and I never once doubted that—even when I was a f*cking ass and cut her out of my life. More than any of that though, she took care of Carrie when I wasn’t able. I’ve only trusted two women in my life—her and Carrie, and I’m humble these women want me in their life.

“Son, Carrie has loved you since she was five years old. The fact that you’re planning a wedding for her would make her happy even without all these special touches you’re throwing in. She will be over the moon. I promise.”

“So, we’re done?”

“I think so,” Mary agrees.

“Well, the kids are all asleep and Mary says she’s got them. So, what are we doing now?” Bull asks.

I look at Dragon and maybe it’s from years of working together, who knows, but I know what’s coming out of his mouth next, and I whole-heartedly agree.

“I say we crash the party,” he says.

“You know where they are?”

“Yeah, Crusher texted a little bit ago,” Dragon answers Bull.

“Then let’s get the f*ck out of here. Thanks, Mom,” I tell Mary, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Love you, son,” she whispers. And that fullness in my heart blooms. Everything feels…good.

I know without even acknowledging out loud what causes that.

Carrie. She’s everything good.





7





Carrie





“Okay we have four volunteers! Can we have a big applause for these beautiful ladies?” the announcer calls out into the audience.

I look on each side of me. On the right, sitting in a wooden chair like my own, are Skye and Dani, then there’s me and on my left, is Nicole. We’re all drunk. There’s no pretending that we aren’t. It’s a good drunk though. A happy buzz that feels amazing, happy, and warm. I’m so warm. I push the sweater I’m wearing from my shoulders, letting it fall down on the stage. That has to be better. The crowd cheers, and I wave at them crazily. It doesn’t even occur to me that I’m only wearing a deep green, silk camisole top with gray lace that dips low around the top. It exposes way too much cleavage which is made worse since I don’t have a bra on. It’s Jacob’s favorite on me, and since sex is off the table tonight, I wanted to drive him crazy. I’m feeling so hot and flushed. I rub my hands along my jeans and wait to see what happens next.

“Is it hot in here?” I ask Nicole and she just laughs—which is annoying. She could at least answer.

“We’re going to see which one of these women can win the title of being Queen of Blow Jobs!”

Queen of…what?