Deep down inside, I know she’s right. This isn’t just about Slate anymore. It’s about family—about belonging to something bigger than ourselves. Being with people who do the right thingand that don’t shy away from danger or truth telling. I need to prove myself worthy of being part of this family and I do that by being honest.
Letting out a shaky breath, I nod. The conversation is cut short when Katie comes running over telling me all about the puppies she was playing with earlier. I’ve come to realize that my little daughter is absolutely puppy crazy. I pick her up and hold her in my lap as she tells me all the puppies’ names and what colors they are.
***
Hours crawl by, and I eventually pick at the plate of food Tessa presses into my hands. All my deepest, darkest secrets are spilling out, and I need to buck up and handle the repercussions like an adult.
Finally, there’s a knock at the door. It’s sharp and solid—two quick raps followed by a familiar voice calling through the door. It’s one of the prospects. “You can come out now. Prez says it was just some attempt to scare us into giving up Slate’s old lady.”
I follow Queenie to the door and help her remove the large metal bar she put across it as an extra measure of defense. Right before we lift it from its bracket, she turns her head to look at me. “See?” she says softly. “Told you my boys can handle any threat.”
I shoot her a relieved grin. “They’re more than just handsome faces, right?”
She rolls her eyes and deadpans back, “I wasn’t gonna say it because it sounds too much like bragging, but me and Rock do make strong, handsome sons.”
Tessa lands between us and puts her hands on the metal bar as well. “That’s not bragging. It’s just a simple statement of fact.”
Getting caught up in the moment with them, I laugh as we lift the heavy bar together and set it aside. I grab my daughter, hold her close, and follow Queenie and Tessa upstairs. Before we go our separate ways, Queenie touches my shoulder. When she speaks, her voice is low enough for only me to hear. “Don’t wait too long.”
“Of course. Thanks for the pep talk.”
Shifting Katie to one hip, I head up to Slate’s suite. I want to wash Katie’s sticky fingers and put her down for a nap. I’ve just about accomplished that when Slate comes stalking into the main room. I know it’s him because of the way he walks and the way he kicks the door shut behind him. The bedroom door creaks open, and he comes in to see Katie.
We’re sitting on opposite sides of the bed, and it’s almost like she can’t decide who to pay attention to because I’m her mom and Slate is one of her favorite people.
His hand reaches inside his cut, and he comes out with a tiny stuffed dog with a loop on the back of its neck. It looks like it might have once been attached to a keychain. “I brought you something.” Holding it up in front of her face, he wiggles it in midair. “Do you like it?”
Katie reaches for it with both hands, and he pretends like it’s walking into her hands by tilting it back and forth. “Watch me run to my new friend,” he says. Only his big, rough biker voice has been replaced with a childlike voice as he pretends to be the stuffed puppy.
I have to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing at his antics. Katie loves everything about this moment.
“You can pretend it’s real. That’s almost as fun as having a real puppy because I’m not sure your mommy would let you have one.”
She cuddles the soft, stuffed puppy to her neck, clearly adoring it. But she says stubbornly, “Want a real one.”
Slate smooths down her hair and responds, “Maybe for your birthday, when you’re a big girl. You’re gonna be three next year, right?”
I freeze in place because my daughter is about to tell him before I can even get the chance.
Her hand shoots up, and she holds up four fingers. “I’m gonna be four.”
Slate freezes in place, and I can almost see him doing the calculation in his head. He reaches to wrap a lock of her long dark hair around one finger and gazes into her light blue eyes. “You’re going to be four? What month were you born?”
She smiles at him, totally innocent of what she’s saying. “Birthday is when cake comes.”
I look everywhere except at the man I love.
Chapter 11
Slate
My entire world stops spinning for a second when Katie says she’s turning four. She’s still holding up four fingers, not three. My brain doesn’t need long to do the math. The timeline all matches up perfectly for Katie to be my daughter.
I reach out to wrap one finger around a lock of her soft black hair. Me and my brothers all ended up with my dad’s dark hair. And my mom’s eyes. As I look down into her light blue eyes, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Her eyes are the same color as mine and it’s like looking into a mirror.
I ask her playfully, “You’re going to be four? When’s your birthday, Katie?”
“Soon, Mommy said I can have a chocolate cake,” she says.
