“You sure about this?” I ask as I walk over to her. “We've got the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night, the wedding in six da?—”
“I heard Hawk and Eagle talking about how the kids count on this money, Frost.” Hope looks up at me, and there's that fire in her eyes that made me fall for her in the first place. “The hospital depends on this. Of course, we're doing this.”
I cup her face, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “I know, darlin’. Just making sure you're not wearing yourself out.”
“I'm fine.” She turns her head and kisses my palm. “Besides, this is important.”
This right here is one of the many reasons why I'm marrying her. Most women would be losing their minds over wedding details right now, but not Hope. She's here, making sure the sick kids of Truth and Consequences get the carnival they look forward to every year.
“Alright,” I say. “Let's do this.”
The hospital parking lot is already buzzing with activity when we pull in, the morning sun beating down on the asphalt. I kill the engine on my bike and swing off, watching as Hope climbsout of Amy's truck, already scanning the setup area with a determined look on her face.
The brothers are unloading supplies from the truck beds. Eagle and Chaos are hauling folding tables toward the designated booth areas. Hawk and Ted, Hope’s dad, are directing traffic like goddamn generals, pointing and barking orders that everyone actually follows. It’s all hands on deck.
Sharon, Hope's mom, is setting up the dessert booth, covering tables with cheerful tablecloths and arranging trays of cookies, brownies, and cupcakes that smell like heaven. Hope and Amy join her, and I watch for a second as the three of them work together, laughing about something I can't hear.
“Frost, you gonna stand there staring at your woman, or you gonna help?” Chaos calls out.
“Both,” I say, but I head over to where we're setting up the motorcycle rides.
We've got four bikes lined up, all cleaned and checked twice. Safety's our number one priority. Luckily, the hospital and the parents allow us to provide this for the children. They know we’re not taking any chances with these kids. Eagle's already going over the route with a couple of prospects, making sure they know the boundaries, the speed limits, the hand signals.
“Helmets?” I ask.
“Got a dozen,” Spark says, nodding toward a crate. “All sizes. Every kid gets fitted properly before they get on a bike.”
“And the age limit?”
“Ten and up, with a parent's signed waiver.” He hands me a clipboard. “Already got a list of kids pre-registered.”
I scan the names to see twenty-three kids so far. This year is gonna be a good turnout. The kids in the hospital get to ride for free as long as their parents and hospital staff have signed off. We charge everyone else fifteen dollars.
Across the lot, Thunder's setting up the temporary tattoo station, of all things. He's got a folding chair, a card table, and what looks like a tackle box full of tattoo supplies. A couple of volunteers from the hospital are helping him organize the designs of butterflies, skulls, flowers, and motorcycles.
“Never thought I'd see the day,” I mutter.
Eagle grins. “Man's got a soft spot for kids. Don't let the ink fool you.”
By the time we're done setting up, the first families are starting to arrive. Kids are running toward the booths, parents trailing behind with cameras and cash. Hope catches my eye from across the lot and smiles, and I feel that pull in my chest again.
“You good, brother?” Thunder asks, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” I say. “I'm good.”
Better than good. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
The day is chaotic but filled with children’s laughter and playful screams. We end up raising fifteen-thousand dollars in donations, which the club will match, giving the hospital a grand total of thirty-thousand dollars. We’re lucky to live in a community, even though small, full of people who show up and help where it counts.
By the time we get back to the clubhouse, it's late, and I'm ready to crash. However, the second we walk through the door, Hope's already in full bridal mode.
“Okay,” she says, pulling out her phone and scrolling through what I'm guessing is a list. “We need to pack the centerpieces, the place cards, the favors, the?—”
“Darlin’,” I say, catching her hand. “It's almost midnight.”
“I know. Which is why we need to start now.” She looks up at me with a determined glint in her eye that tells me there's notalking her out of this. “We leave at ten in the morning, Frost. We can't forget anything.”
I sigh. “Alright. What do you need?”
