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“Lovely loves you, even with your shitty personality. Without my help she would never have looked past that flaw.”

“I loved him before you helped him pull his head out of his ass,” Lovely says, snuggling up to Marx’s side with a sweet smile.

“You’re a good girl, sweetheart,” I wink.

“Yeah, she fucking is,” Marx says before pressing a kiss to her lips.

I’m so glad my boys found their soul mates. Even if one of those soul mates bought into this goddamn hobby horse bullshit. Chewy smiles and waves goofily at me from her dick carved throne, Rhodie perched on Chomper’s dick carved stool, Chomper on one thigh, Laney on his other.

“That’ll be you one day. If you listen to my advice,” Pops says before shoulder barging past me and galloping away.

“Why the hell am I doing this shit?” I mutter under my breath.

“Because Pops is an evil genius,” Niko says, coming to stand beside me.

“That whole damn family is.”

“Aren’t you glad they’re on your side though?”

I grin at Niko, wrapping an arm around him. He’s a good kid, who put his life on the line to protect his family. He’s gonna make a fine MC brother one day.

“Hell yes, kid.”

We turn to stare at Pops doing some deep lunges to warm up while the Tombs brothers continue taking bets and Chewy rubs her giant belly.

“The first event for your viewing pleasure is dressage! Gentlemen if you could bring your horses to the front please,” Mira announces in a posh voice.

I stomp to the front, frowning at everyone, except Willa of course. I throw her a little wink and a smirk when she grins at me. She’s sitting with the Ol Ladies and some of my brothers are dotted around them. Good. That gives me one less thing to worry about.

I stand with my hobby horse clamped between my legs waiting for Rodney, who somehow is in charge. He’s leaning toward Rider who has his phone turned sideways, Rodney pointing at something and nodding. He murmurs to Rider who comes stomping over, and shoves his phone in my face.

“Jesus, Rider,” I grumble, grabbing his phone and pushing it further from my face so I can focus on the damn thing.

There, on the screen, is a rider on a horse who for some reason, is trotting sideways. One leg crosses over the other before it starts damned skipping to Beyonce.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I whisper under my breath.

All this because I told Pops that I didn’t need his help anymore. I don’t. Willa and I are friends. And now I’m going to be filmed by my MC brothers with a stuffed horse head between my legs as I skip around the town center trying to beat a crazy old son of a bitch.

Rider’s hand lands on my shoulder, giving me a little shake. “Whup his ass, Mad Dog.”

I dip my chin and head to stand in front of Mira. Pops holds his fist out and I roll my eyes as we pump our fists, me throwing paper as he throws rock.

“Your choice,” Mira says, “first or second?”

“Second,” I say decisively. I need to know what moves he has.

Pops nods once then walks to where the kids have roped off a square for us to dressage in, or whatever you say.

“You got my song teed up?” Pops calls over his shoulder. Jovie gives him the thumbs up before AC/DC starts blaring out.

Pops throws his leg over his hobby horse, one foot off the ground, knee at 90 degrees, toes pointed before he minces off trotting around like he does this in his spare time.

“Wow,” Willa’s husky voice draws my attention as she brushes against my elbow. “I did not think this is what I would be doing today.” She looks up at me, green eyes sparkling.

“You’re telling me,” I grunt, unable to pull my eyes from her.

Would I rather be grilling her about what the actual fuck happened at her work this morning with that asshole Diesel? Hell yes. But, we’re in a good place at the moment and I’m not gonna fuck it up. Not when there are other ways for me to handle the problem.