“Fatherhood’s the best thing to ever happen to me,” I declared, running a hand over Imogen’s back. “Can’t recommend it enough.”
“She’s lucky,” he muttered, his eyes fixated on my girl’s face. “Could’a gone a different way when her ma died. Believe me, Donovan, some kids aren’t so fortunate.”
Karma was a street kid who came to the Demons when he was just sixteen. He and his best friend, Seraphina, ran away from the kids’ home they were at, and somehow became caughtup with the Burning Sinners, an old MC that used to terrorize the area.
Luckily, they came across the Speed Demons and ended up living with Abe and Iris Decker, who back then were part of the club, but it could’ve gone a whole lot differently, especially since it turned out the Burning Sinners were trafficking women and children.
Iris couldn’t have kids, so had jumped at the chance to foster and then adopt Sera and Mason (now Karma). He’d witnessed the worst of humanity growing up, so he could appreciate the love and stability Abe and Iris offered him and Seraphina. It was no wonder my buddy saw deeper than everyone else when it came to my daughter because he’d been in the system, too.
“You headin’ over to the cookout?” he asked, shooting Imogen a smile.
“Yeah.” I checked my watch. “Gonna go pick up Rosie and the kids and head over now.”
“How’s that goin’?” he asked.
My mouth twitched because it was going well. Very well, in fact.
Life with Rosie was sweet.
I didn’t want to say it out loud; didn’t want to jinx it, but it was like someone had poured warm, sweet honey over my days.
Rosie and I bounced off each other perfectly, and our lives had slotted together so easily that even I was shocked.
She was great with Imogen, and my kid loved her, and I got along great with DJ, who was turning out to be an asset to my gym. Gabby was trickier because she was so shy, and I didn’t quite know how far I could push things with her, but I handled her with care, and she seemed to respond well to me; plus, she loved being around Imogen.
We spent most evenings together, either at Rosie’s place or Ma’s, talking and playing board games and watching TV andmovies with the kids. Mam was in her element every Sunday as she got to make her roast dinners for everyone.
My life had done a complete one-eighty in a matter of weeks, but strangely, I didn’t miss my old bachelor days. If I were honest, single life had been getting old for a while. The only reason I didn’t settle before was because I hadn’t met a woman who held my interest.
But Rosie did.
Lord, did that woman hold my attention.
She looked good and smelled better. Most days, she made me belly laugh and gave me so much shit that my head spun with it. Rosie was smart and cool, and she didn’t care about looking like a goof. She had a devilish streak that I fucking loved because I had the same streak inside me.
Rosie simply got me in ways no other woman had before.
And I hadn’t even fucked her—at least not since the first time—even though I thought about it constantly.
Though I would.
And soon.
When I did, I was going to erase all the women, ex-husbands, and the ghosts who dared to live in Rosie’s head. I was going to make her forget every man who came before me, and I’d forget every woman from my past. I’d fuck away every memory and replace it with just me, her, and us until she moaned my name in her sleep because that was all she knew.
That was how a man claimed a woman—not with words, or even a ring, but with his heart and soul.
I threw Karma a shit-eating grin and a chin lift, then bundled Imogen into her little pink sunhat, grabbed her diaper bag, and sauntered outside with my baby girl on my hip.
Immediately, I caught a flash through the window of a black car parked a little further up the street.
My steps faltered.
What the fuck was that?
Peering closer, I tried to see what the hell was going on. My chest jerked when another bright light flashed through the dark-tinted window of the Chevy Impala, and a cold feeling washed through me as a realization hit me square in the chest.
Somebody was taking photos.
