Frown returning, Bronco sits on the bed. “I’m not interested in doing that.”
“Doing what?”
Kicking off his shoes, he mutters, “Rolling the dice again and again for a boy. I’m okay with four daughters. Five if you get the urge for more kids. I don’t need a son. Honestly, I probably don’t want one either.”
“Why?”
“He’ll remind me of me, and I remind myself of my old man. Plus, I know how to deal with girls. What if my son turns out like Wyatt? I don’t need that shit in my life.”
Sitting behind him on the bed, I slide my fingers along his tense shoulders. His dark tattoos blend into his tanned flesh, stirring up urges inside me.
I focus long enough to whisper in his ear, “I’m okay with having just our four. I never thought I’d have another baby after Desi. And now I have Sidonie and Summer. It’s okay if we stop.”
“Is that your way of requesting I get fixed?” he asks, smirking over his shoulder.
“No, it’s my way of saying I’m glad I got my period.”
Bronco twists around and pulls me onto his lap. “Lana, I’m not looking to run the club forever. I figure I have a few years left in me before I hand things over to Conor. Then I want to travel more, relax with you and the girls, stop worrying so much.”
Bronco pauses and kisses me deeply as if needing reassurance. Once his lips leave mine, he continues, “What I’m saying is if you were to get pregnant, I wouldn’t be upset. But, yeah, four is enough for me. We have one leaving the nest in a few years,” he says, and I feel his old fears over losing Summer rise up in him. “On the other end, we have a daughter that’s not even crawling.”
His fingers slide under my shirt and lift it over my head. “And Desi’s world has been so small so far. She wants to go to Great Wolf Lodge, and we’ll do that, but she’s never visited the beach or seen the mountains. Summer, Sidonie, and I go somewhere each year. I want Desi and Carina to enjoy the same things.”
“Then we’re on the same page,” I say, kissing his throat. “I just can’t have sex near Shasta. Shelby claims the rendering plant makes women fertile, which would explain Carina. Maybe it wasn’t the birth control but the proximity to the stink factory.”
“Yeah, that sounds very scientific,” he says, sliding me off his lap and lifting me to my feet. “I need a shower, and fucking helps with period cramps.”
“And you know that how?”
“Have you met my sisters?” he asks, tugging me toward the stone-tiled, walk-in shower.
“Yes, the older one came over today to ask if my mom wanted to join her at the salon.”
“Not you?”
“No. Bambi said I can go with Topanga.”
Even with his back to me, I feel Bronco rolling his eyes. I grin at his exasperation and then smile wider at the sight of him losing his jeans and boxer. I never think to ask if he wants to skip sex or have me get him off with my mouth or hands until my period is over. Bronco needs to fuck me every night.
The stress of the club and his family wears on him in a way that only my affections can soothe. I don’t know how he dealt with the pressure before I entered his life. Did fucking the bunnies help him? Or did he just shove the stress down deep where it festered?
His old ways aren’t enough for Bronco anymore. Just like my old habits no longer satisfy me. We’ve changed each other. Together, we’re stronger, calmer, happier. Now that we’ve gotten a taste of how good life can be, there’s no going back.
BRONCO
Weeks after I visited the Village to demand payment, I’m still waiting. Today is their usual scheduled meetup. Every month like clockwork, they pay us ten percent of what they made with their illegal products. Normally, Lowell and Conor show up to the meeting alone. Today, I bring a quarter of my club, just in case.
Now I stand three feet from the Village’s representative. Behind me, Lowell counts the money while Drummer and Anders stand nearby. Conor keeps watch with a rifle from the roof of a sandwich shop while Wyatt crowds the doorway of one of the Village’s faded blue busses.
Lowell finishes up and leans over to whisper, “They’re short for an average month, not even