Page 416 of Devil’s Disciples

I didn’t like making assumptions, so I was forced to look at what we had on the surface. The obvious. We enjoyed each other’s company. We had sex. We slept in the same bed. That, pretty much, was the sum of it all.

I realized I’d picked the crust from the uneaten portion of my sandwich and had piled it on the edge of the plate. I covered the crumbs with the sandwich and pushed the plate aside. “I guess you need to tell me what this is, then. I must have missed the memo.”

“There’s a rule, of sorts, with bikers. If a man makes it known that he’s in a relationship with a woman, the other bikers respect that relationship, and they respect her. If you and I are in a relationship, Cash will respect that, and this bullshit will stop. I want to be in a relationship. I want to give this a label.”

More of what he didn’t want to hear came spewing from my mouth. “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you to get the bullshit to stop. I want to be in a relationship with you because it’s what—”

He shook his head adamantly. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I think I love you,” he blurted.

My jaw hit the floor. It was exactly what I wanted, but not at all what I expected. Not at that moment, anyway. I pressed the heel of my palm against my overactive heart.

“What’s it…what’s it going to take…for you to know?” I asked.

“Repercussion.”

My brow wrinkled. “Repercussion?”

He laughed. “Sorry. I’m…I’m a little bit nervous,” he stammered. “Not repercussion. Reciprocation. Acknowledgement, or whatever.”

I smiled. “I think I love you, too.”

154

Goose

I’d been in a handful of relationships. One of them turned into a botched marriage.

At the time, I believed marriage would provide stability in my life. A sense of balance that I felt was lacking in the lop-sided life of an outlaw. I eagerly searched for someone to provide that balance.

In no time, I found a woman whose mere existence tugged at my heartstrings. Divorced and with children in tow, she needed a man in her life. I believed I could provide her—and her children—a better life. I could provide for her children what I wasn’t able to have as a child.

Fixing her life, I was sure, would fix mine. So, I began building what I believed to be a more stable foundation for us all. We moved forward, both eager to see what our future together held.

I feared being truthful would jeopardize the club’s anonymity. I found out that hiding club business from my spouse caused that very foundation that I was building to crumble into a pile of rubble.

What we had promptly ended in divorce. It was for the better. It happened for all the wrong reasons. I knew I never loved her. I loved the thought of having a family. A group of people to cook for, care for, and provide for.

Looking back on that failed relationship, I can safely say that until I met Ally, I’d never been in love. Love found me when I wasn’t looking. The hand of life slapped me in the face, waking me from a life-long slumber.

When I opened my eyes, love was looking back at me.

With my eyes wide open, I eagerly looked back.

“I don’t think I love you anymore,” I said.

Her eyes bulged. “Huh?”

“I know I love you,” I said. “I know it.”

Her blue eyes blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I know I love you.”

She leaped from her bar stool and held her flattened hand over the center of the island. “Fuck yes! I love you, too.”