Will tucked the blanket around me. “I don’t mind working in the garage for a while. So, no rush. I’ve been too—” He frowned. “—gung ho. Haven’t been patient. I’m working on that.”
I leaned on him and breathed in the delicious combo of sweat and cologne. It was pure sex. “My whole life plan was always to share it with you. As Kings. As more.” I laced our fingers together and kissed his shoulder.
“Me too.”
“Fuck, I love you.” Tears bit at my eyes.
“Are you crying?” Will’s lips quirked. The fucker was laughing on the inside again.
“Yeah, I know. I’m a baby.”
“My baby.” He kissed my temple, and I quickly wiped my eyes.
“Fuck you. I love you.”
He kissed my forehead. “I love you, too.”
“I’m stuck on the floor and my ass is numb.”
The bastard giggled, and I wasn’t honestly sure how I would get off the floor without hurting both of us, but other than that, my life was just about perfect.
EPILOGUE
ROOK
I ran my thumb over my newly issued driver’s license, the card freshly made and shiny. The pristine condition wouldn’t last long, especially when I had a habit of pulling out my wallet with oil- or paint-stained fingers. But I was on the right side of the law and that was the most important thing. PD was the one who’d convinced me to go back to the doc and get a medical certificate. Then, I had to redo my physical, and once the DMV was happy, I took my photo again and they reprinted my license.
“How does it feel?” PD asked gently from where he sat on the passenger side of our truck. I was behind the wheel. His gaze was tender, love sparkling in his eyes. He made me feel special, and together, we grew and adapted to our new life. It’d been about ten months since his surgery, and I was walking on clouds.
I’d attached my new studio to the Ink Well, and the opening day was beyond a success, especially since Quain had taken photos of the paintings I’d done for him and shared them on social media. His son, KC, was a whiz with that stuff, and he was managing my accounts. He called it “brand building,” whatever the hell that meant. Everyone wanted my work on a canvas or their bike, and my presence around New Gothenburgskyrocketed. Even PD’s tattoo parlor was getting more visitors because I suggested my clients pay him a visit if they liked tattoos.
Now that I had my license in my hand, the next step of a plan I’d been putting together for months was in motion.
“Where are we going to eat lunch?” PD grasped my hand and slid his fingers between mine, and I squeezed gently.
“I thought we could go to the clubhouse. King called a meeting,” I lied easily.
“He did?” PD frowned, his forehead crinkling. “I didn’t get a message.”
“He knew I’d be with you. He says we’re always together. He’s not wrong.” I chuckled. Kinghadtold me that, after I admitted I wanted to propose to PD. He’d said he couldn’t be happier for us. When I further expressed how I’d love to get married at the clubhouse, maybe right away, the bastard went out and got ordained. I knew there was probably a good story there, but I tried not to get overly involved in it.
“Weird.” PD didn’t argue, though. He raised my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I love you, do you know that?”
“Whaaat?” I gaped at him. “No way.”
He rolled his eyes. “Stop being an idiot. I’ve only told you a million times.”
I laughed, warmth spreading through my chest and into my veins. He made me happy in ways I couldn’t fully comprehend. I didn’t know why we’d ignored the chemistry for so long. “I love it when you tell me.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with me for life.” PD laid another kiss on my knuckles, and I breathed him in, happiness simmering low in my stomach until I thought I would burst.
PD told me about the tattoos he’d been inking lately, and I relaxed while I listened to his voice. I wasn’t a religious man, but he could read Bible verses and I’d still listen to every word.The boring stuff about who begat whom, not just the battles and debauchery. He made me happy and there was no one else I wanted in this world.
When I veered into the junkyard’s driveway, avoiding the potholes that pitted the road, he went quiet as he took stock of the vehicles—cars, trucks, and bikes—lining the front of the clubhouse and spilling over onto the grass that King yelled about us killing all the time. White roses in clear vases lined the front of the building and looked great against the navy blue siding.
“Is that your mom’s car?” He pointed at the impossible to miss yellow Kia, and I shrugged because I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t ask them to hide their vehicles because there was no way PD had any idea what I’d planned. As long as I got him here without him realizing what was happening, it would all be good.
“Will....” He cocked his head toward me, eyebrows hiking up on his forehead. “What’s going on?”