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And Della became a professor, tenure track, and got a book deal. She’s now working three days a week at the university, staying at her townhouse two nights a week. I’ll sometimes go stay with her because I miss her when she’s not around.

Me? I spent the last three weeks getting ready for today. I’ve been renovating the house, with help from my brothers. The living room has been repainted. Soft curtains hang at the windows, but it’s anybody’s guess how long they’ll last, given Mango likes climbing up ‘em. The bookshelves I rescued from the old hotel are now filled with Della’s books. And there’s a new sofa big enough for the two of us to curl up on together after a long ride. The bedroom is starting to resemble a contemporary hotel room. Gone is the scrappy bed frame and mattress combo that existed before. The floors have been refinished. The walk-in closet has been fitted out with shelves and rails.

We’re not quite done, hence the wallpaper samples, but I wanted to celebrate her birthday here.

And I’ve saved my final gift for this afternoon.

I know how much I love Della and that she loves me back. But I am nervous about asking her to be my old lady in front of my brothers.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I look at the tattoo that runs down the inside of my index finger. Three letter a’s in the font of the ace in a deck of playing cards. Della shocked the heck out of me by getting the same.

All An Adventure.

AAA

That’s life, right?

I mean, did I have to hold her hand, given she doesn’t like needles at all? Yes.

Did she nearly quit after one letter? Also, yes.

But that was when I got right in her face, my lips a hair’s breadth away from hers. And told her how proud I was of her for being so brave. And how the pain would be over in a heartbeat, and how we could add getting matching tattoos to the list of meaningful things we’ve experienced together.

On the way home, she’d admitted how wet my words had gotten her, so I’d pulled the bike over down a deserted track I know and fucked her on my bike for the first time.

We walk out into the garden together. She went shopping with Maren, who convinced her she should have more footwear in her closet than hiking boots. So, she’s wearing little ankle boots with a low heel and a cute khaki shirt dress that skims her thighs. For the fifteenth time today, I wish there weren’t so many people in my yard so I could bend her over and fuck her in it.

I tip my head to Ridge, who whistles loudly.

Vandal and Daisy’s little girl, Elsie, slips her hands over her ears. Noticing, Vandal puts his hands over hers, which makes her laugh.

“Indy,” I say, and Ridge puts the leather cut into my hands. “I got a house, a club that’ll die for you, a truck that runs, hands that work, and a huge dick.”

Everyone laughs at that, like I intended, even Della. Well, except Vandal, who rolls his eyes as he keeps Elsie’s ears covered.

I take Della’s hand in mine. “You’re gonna have to bring the brains, but in every other way, I got you. So, I want to know if you’ll make it permanent and be my old lady and promise you’ll stay with me forever? Because I may be many things, but I am not a quitter. We do this, it’s for life. What d’you think, Indy? Will you be my ride or die?”

She laughs, the sound food for my soul. “Yes. Of course, I’ll be your ride or die.”

I hold up the cut for her, the back first. “It means you’ll be my property. My person to love and look after for the rest of our lives.” Then, I turn it around and show her the name I put on it for her.

There’s only one name I could possibly choose.

“Indy,” she says, breathlessly, as I open it up so she can put it on.

And on cue, Ridge blasts the Indiana Jones theme song from the speaker on his phone, making everyone laugh again.

It fits her perfectly, and it does something to me to see my name on her back.

Della throws herself at me. “I didn’t think today could get any better,” she says, her lips brushing over mine.

“Then, just wait for the rest of our lives.”

EPILOGUE

LOCK: THREE MONTHS LATER

As I look at the warehouse and see the shit show unfolding in front of me, I wonder how we went from three crates of missing weapons to facing down a rival club in twenty-four hours.