All I wanted to do was meet my man for lunch. That’s it. And I was craving Dolly’s Place. I got here early because I wanted to check on Stan since I have, officially, moved out of his garage apartment.
He waved me out of the back after giving me a hug aftertelling me, “You’re glowing, Graycie. It’s wonderful to see.”
I could only smile and try not to cry. Because it was so damn sweet.
Dolly’s Place, from what I’ve gathered, has always been neutral ground where everyone is welcome. It might not seem like a big deal, but that’s before you find out Stan is Sheriff Lyon’s brother. Apparently, Sheriff Lyons tries every now and again to pressure his brother to ban the SOMC, but Stan never gives in.
Right now, it’s not difficult to imagine Sheriff Lyons badgering his brother about how to run his business because he has a bee in his bonnet about the club.
“Graycie,” he’s shaking his head in admonishment and disappointment, again, “I really thought you were smarter than this.” His eyes flick to my property cut, the same cut I wear any time I’m off club land.
Because that’s the deal.
I get a lot in return.
Like a man who loves me.
Like a family who has my back.
Like a future I could have never imagined, not when I wasn’t even sure if I would survive to see the next day.
But I don’t owe this man an explanation and he knows it.
He also knows Turner is going to be pissed if he finds the good Sheriff talking to me about my poor decisions—his words—again. This is not the first time. The Sheriff is starting to sound more and more like a broken record every time I see him.
“Sheriff,” I start, my voice confident but kind, “I don’t see why we need to keep talking about this. I’m not going to tell you if the choices you make in your life are wrong nor am I going to attempt to judge the morality of those choices.”
I tilt my head to the side slightly as I look at him and wait. Because there is no way he’s done spouting his bullshit. It’s practically his second job at this point. My working theory is he’s trying to save me before I can become a bad influence on Ezra.
He keeps forgetting one thing. Just like me, Ezra is a grown woman. We’re capable of making our own choices and living our own lives.
The door to Dolly’s Place swings open and I know who is walking in without needing to look. The air shifts and the thing that connects us—our souls, our flames, a chain, or a golden string—lights up with his proximity, reminding me I no longer walk through life alone.
I’ll always have him by my side.
“Sheriff,” Turner barks before sliding into the very small space between him and me, “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here harassing my fiancé. Yet again.” His eyes narrow and his tone turns glacial, “My pregnant fiancé.”
Everyone in the diner freezes because Turner did not keep his voice down. Not even a little bit.
As if he realizes what he’s just done, he glances at me and mutters, “Shit.”
Sheriff Lyons straightens up and gets his shock under control. When he glances between us, there’s something like resignation in his eyes. “Well, I guess you’ve dug yourself a little hole there that you’ll need to get out of.” His lips thin and his jaw clenchesbut then it’s like he forces himself to relax. He looks at me and for the first time in months, his eyes soften. “Congratulations.”
Then he turns and walks out without looking back. I’m not entirely sure what the fuck just happened, but I’m grateful. I hope the next time he sees me wearing my cut, he just lets it go.
Turner slides into the booth next to me with an apologetic, and downright boyish, smile on his face. His lips part, I’m sure to tell me how sorry he is, but before he can, we both jump slightly.
“Congratulations,” everyone in Dolly’s shout, including Stan from the kitchen.
I giggle and press my hand to my chest. Turner, magnanimous as always, stands up and does a little bow that has everyone chuckling before going back to their food. I’m sure everyone will know our news before the sun sets.
“Well, seems we need to tell your parents and the club before they hear it around town,” I sigh. Then a thought occurs to me, and I sit up ramrod straight. There’s a hint of fear in my voice, “And Opal.”
“Fuck,” he holds out the word and scrubs his hand over his face. When he looks back at me, his gray eyes are filled with remorse. “I’m sorry I blurted it out. I just wanted him to back off; he’s always harassing you and I had had enough.”
I peck his lips softly and he chases my mouth, his fingers sliding through the strands of my hair and holding tight to keep me in place. He kisses me like he’s missed me, like we didn’t see each other just hours ago, and I love it.
“Love you, Angel,” he murmurs against my lips like he knew I needed to hear it.