happening, I felt him press up against my back, his chest to my shoulder blade, his hand lighting on my waist and gliding around to my belly.
In that position, me and my husband watched as Rebel, bouncing with excitement against Rush’s body, kissed him all over his face and neck.
“Just so you know, that’s how I felt when you gave me my baby,” I told Kane.
Done with the rain of kisses, Rush’s arms closed tight around his girl, he turned her, pressed her against the driver’s side door of the shiny indigo-blue ’Cuda he’d just given her, and the kissing got focused.
The boy done good. That princess-cut rock on her finger was even Elvira-approved.
“And just so you know,” Tack’s own rumble tumbled in my ear, “that’s how I felt when you got excited when I gave you your ’Stang.”
I twisted my neck to look at his face.
From the very first moment I saw him, I loved looking at Kane Allen.
After all these years, I wouldn’t have believed it if you told me, but I loved looking at him now more than ever.
Finally, my man was free.
And he’d given me goodness since the moment I’d let him in my heart. He’d given me a beautiful home and his beautiful children, and he’d helped me make two more. He’d kept me safe. He’d given me his love. And we’d had a ton of good times, heart-warming family holidays, loud raucous biker parties, truckloads of his amazing food, and astronomical amounts of great sex.
But in all our years together, seeing that in his face, in his eyes, I’d never been happier.
Not even when I had my boys.
That last was hard to admit.
But staring into my husband’s eyes as they were now, I had no choice to admit it.
Because it was true.
He put pressure at his hand at my belly and I was shifted, turned, then marched with Tack still at my back through the door into my office.
He shut it behind us. Flipped the blinds so they were closed. Then hit the lock on the door.
He turned me in his arms.
“You ready for me to soup up a new baby for you?” he offered.
Because he could.
He could now.
He could work in the garage, tinkering with a car, blowing time being close to me and doing something he loved to do.
Yes.
He could do just that.
Finally.
“You take my baby away from me, I’m not speaking to you for eternity,” I threatened.
He grinned.
Then he pulled me closer and he kissed me.
This got relatively hot and heavy until we heard an engine roar and a squeal of tires.
Only then did Kane raise his head and smile down at me, the crinkles by his beautiful blue eyes deep, the light in them dancing.
“That girl,” he murmured. “Perfect.”
He was right.
“Glad I passed that goodness of knowin’ how to spot the one, and then not dick around in winning her, to my son,” he finished.
I tipped my head to the side and reminded him, “You do remember you fucked me then kicked me out of your bed the first time we met, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t negate the fact you turned out to be perfect, ’round about the very next day, and I went all in to win,” he returned.
“You also know you’ll get laid without flowery compliments,” I went on.
He was still smiling as he shuffled me back to my desk.
“Think you’re the one gettin’ laid, Red.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
He kept smiling even as he kissed me.
Then I got laid. On my desk. In my office.
That desk had seen some action.
God, I loved coming to work.
More, I loved my husband.
And he loved me.
Tack
The day after that . . .
His phone rang.
When he saw the caller, he really did not want to take the call.
But he had to take the call.
So he stopped walking across the forecourt and took the fucking call.
“Naomi,” he greeted.
“Thanks,” she spat.
Tack drew in a big breath.
“Rush’s girl is a bossy bitch,” she declared.
Now, wait a fucking minute.
“Naomi—”
“And she’s a pain in my ass.”
Christ.
He knew it.
He shouldn’t have taken this call.
“She’s it for him, isn’t she?” Naomi demanded to know.
“She’s it for him,” Tack confirmed shortly.
“Right,” she clipped. “Did you hear me?”
“Which part?” he asked.
“The gratitude part, Tack,” she bit out.
“I think so,” he sighed.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Tack said nothing.
“Sat in that chair, he was ranting, said he was texting you, you were gonna come, didn’t think you’d do that,” she said tersely.
“Nao—”
“Didn’t want you to,” she whispered.
Tack closed his mouth.
“What would they have done without you?”