“So, lover boy-” I raise a brow and she giggles. “It's Valentine’s Day! I can call you that if I want.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway,lover boy, what are we doing at the Roxburgh post office?”
I swing our clasped hands as we walk into the area where the postal boxes are. “I have a feeling there’s a package for you.” I shrug, trying not to smile.
Not that it works as the smile that grows on Remy’s face makes mine grow with it. She does a happy dance before smacking a kiss on my lips and hustling her heartshaped ass to her post office box. She fumbles a little with the key in her excitement, so I step up behind her, steadying her hand.
She releases a little sigh as she leans back into me, happy to let me take over. Pressing my nose to her hair, I inhale the scent that is all Remy, before I kiss her crown and step back, allowing her access to the plain brown paper wrapped item inside. She slides it out, hands gentle as she carries it pressed to her chest. I lead her back to my bike, lifting her under the arms and plopping her side saddle on the seat as I step in between her legs.
“Open it, baby,” I gently urge, watching as she caresses my sender name on the back. St Margarita.
With shiny eyes she carefully peels off the tape, ever so gently folding back the paper to reveal a book with her favorite pictureof us on the cover. Us lying in bed, Remy’s face beaming into her phone camera as she takes a selfie of us, me with my face tipped toward her, not even looking at the phone screen as my whole gaze is locked on her. Only her.
“Oh, Marg, it’s beautiful,” she whispers, running her hand down the cover before opening to the first page and gasping.
There, in black and white on cream paper, are our messages. Each and every message we sent each other, from the very first message until the very last before we met in person, is there, immortalized on page.
“Oh no! I’m making the pages wet!” Remy frantically tries to wipe her tears off both the page she is looking at and her face.
Cupping her cheeks I take care of the big, fat tears rolling down, capturing them with my lips.
“It’s just so sweet, Saint, it’s perfect, I love it even more than that sexy, half-naked picture of you Rider gave me,” she whispers as I press my lips to hers before pulling back and gazing into her huge blue eyes.
“It’s our history, baby. It’s what brought us together, over all those years, and now you’re here and I’m never letting you go. I love you, Remington.”
“I love you, Saint.”
Judge
“Are you being serious right now?” Kaia’s grumpy voice filters through my Bluetooth. “Are you seriously taking me to the riverside where I caught you with Chelsea?”
The weight of her against my back shifts and I flinch a little as she slaps me with her tiny hand.
“Babe! I have a plan, just,” I sigh, “Just trust me. Please?” I ease the bike further down the lane until I get to the spot where I made the worst mistake of my life.
Tank asked if I needed him here for moral support, but I left him and the rest of our brothers and DRMC family at our third poker run spot. I did ask him to grab our card for us, and to not peek at it or swap the thing, but I know Tank. He hates losing so I wouldn't be surprised if we get back and have a shitty card to add to our hand.
“I trust you, but it doesn't mean that I have to like you at this moment,” Kaia huffs, launching herself off my bike as soon as I park.
She stands with her arms crossed, her right foot tapping. Fuck she looks so sexy, her wild curls all mussed from her helmet and the wind, her curvy figure filling out her leathers just right. I take the two strides that have my boots meeting hers, cupping her face and devouring her lips. My tongue glides along her plump bottom lip, and I groan when she gently catches my bottom lip between her teeth, before giving me a hard nip.
“You deserve that for bringing me here,” she whispers into my mouth before sucking my lip into her mouth, soothing the sting of her bite. My woman has claws when she needs to.
Pulling back, I slide my fingers into her soft hair, my palm cupping the back of her head, fingers massaging her scalp just the way she likes it. The way she’s always liked it. She groans a little, before a smirk plays on her lips.
“I guess with us all the way out here no one will hear me scream.”
Pulling back, I stare down at her. What the hell? “Why would you be screaming?”
She slips her hand into the little pocket at her hip, sliding out what looks to be a Polaroid. She holds it up long enough for me to see skin. A lot of fucking skin.
“What the fuck is that?” I stab a thick finger in the direction of the picture she’s currently fanning herself with.
“Oh, just a guy. Ahotguy. All oiled up, muscles upon muscles. I bet he knows just how to make a woman scream.” She darts away when I lunge at her, making all sorts of obscene noises before cackling.
“Kaia. I swear if thats from one of those Craigs List fuckers we’re going to have a major fucking problem.”
“Oh?” She raises a brow, looking the picture of innocence but I know Kaia. She’s as devious as they come.
“Yeah. Because I’ll go to prison for murder.”
