A hand lands on the small of my back. “Is Tyson giving you trouble?”
I smile up at my husband. “No. Just the opposite. He offered to pick up lunch.”
A growl rumbles in Declan’s chest.
“Don’t be so territorial. He’s got it bad for Monica.”
He chuckles. “All right. He better be a good guy. Or…”
I inch up on my tippy toes placing a hand over his mouth. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
He grabs my palm and kisses it. “I better get going. I need to have Mickey look into this new guy my sister is dating.”
I burst into laughter and shake my head. There’s no use arguing. My husband can’t help himself.
Turning on my heels I scan the customers selecting clothes off the racks.
One of my dreams has finally come to life. I've become an entrepreneur. The bakery just needs a few final touches, and in a month, it will open right next door.
A woman raises her hand gaining my attention. I saunter over. “How may I help you?”
“Do you have this shirt in a small?”
“I can check in the backroom,” I say.
“Thanks,” she says before turning back to the table.
“Hey, boss, can I grab something for you?” Monica bounces over.
“Yes, check the backroom. See if we have a size small in this color.”
She smiles leaning into my ear. “Are you sure it’s safe to go into the back room? You know after you got busy back there.”
I swat her away. “It’s safe.”
Monica chuckles as she darts toward the backroom.
Customers buzz through the boutique all morning, drifting from rack to rack with smiles and full arms. The steady hum of conversation and laughter fills my space—mystore—and it feels incredible.
I pinch myself to make sure this moment is real.
Still can’t believe not too long ago I was running from Glenn, terrified. I walked into a bar of a brooding biker bartender who refused to let me leave and vowed to keep me safe. Declan could’ve paid for me to stay at a cheap motel, wished me luck, and washed his hands of me.
Not Declan. He stepped outside his comfort zone and took me home. We had the best conversation that night. Leading up to our wedding we kept those conversations going by thefireplace. Of course we don’t see eye to eye about everything. Like Declan tracking water all over the floor after a shower. I chuckle inside at the thought.
When my mother met Declan she said I did good. That I found a man who truly loved me. Coming from my mom who had been through hell with my dad and finally found love years later too meant a lot.
The day Declan and I stood facing each other at the altar in that small chapel, my heart nearly burst. Seeing my six-foot-six man in a navy tuxedo, hair parted cleanly with a perfectly moussed comb-over and his beard trimmed sharp. I almost didn’t recognize him. My biker—polished, refined, and impossibly gorgeous.
Fuck, he was sexy.
All I could think about was getting him alone, threading my fingers through that neat hair, and messing it up until he looked like mine again. But it was the way he looked at me that truly stole my breath—like I was his whole world, like nothing and no one else existed.
I’d never known love like this. Never believed I would.
I went from being Declan’s ole lady to his wife in a month. I can’t believe I’m a biker wife. I love it.
After lunch a customer rummages through a rack, smiling at her selections. A few other ladies attack the racks along the long wall.
