Carter climbs off his bike, and three years of being a Savage Rider has settled into him in all the best ways. He's still got that dangerous edge, that awareness that comes from a life livedfighting for what's right, but there's a peace to him now that wasn't there before. A contentment.
He's wearing his cut—"Savage Riders MC" across the back, "Riot" on the front patch, along with his other patches earned over three years of brotherhood. He earned his full patch eighteen months ago, and I'd never seen him prouder except maybe the day James was born.
"There's my girl," he says, scooping Maya up and spinning her around. She squeals with delight, careful not to crumple her card, and Biscuit barks once, because he's too old for sustained excitement but still wants to participate.
"Look what I made you!" Maya shoves the card at him the second he sets her down. "It's a Father's Day card! Mrs. Henderson said we could make them early!"
Carter takes the card, studying it like it's the most important document he's ever read. The front says "BEST DADDY EVER" in Maya's seven-year-old handwriting, surrounded by hearts and stars.
"This is perfect," he says, his voice going soft in that way it only does with her. "Absolutely perfect. Thank you."
"Open it! Read the inside!"
He does, and I watch his expression change as he reads whatever Maya wrote. His eyes get a little misty, just for a second, before he clears his throat and pulls Maya into a tight hug.
"Love you too, baby girl. So much."
Then he walks up the porch steps to where I'm sitting with James. He leans down, pressing a kiss to James's head, then to my lips, a proper kiss that still makes my toes curl after three years together.
"How is my boy?" he asks, settling onto the swing beside me.
"Perfect angel," I tell him, which is mostly true. James is an easy baby—sleeps well, eats well, only fusses when he's hungry or needs changing. "How was your day?"
"Long. Good, but long." He stretches out his legs, and Maya immediately climbs into his lap, somehow fitting even though she's getting too big for it. "Did a protection run for Murphy's Grill. Some guys from out of town were causing problems. King had me and Shadow handle it."
"Everyone okay?"
"Everyone's fine. The guys won't be coming back." There's something in his voice, that edge that reminds me he's capable of violence when necessary. But it doesn't scare me anymore. "Murphy asked about you, by the way. Said to tell you he's got fresh apple pie if you want to stop by."
"Trying to bribe me with pie?"
"Is it working?"
"Maybe." I lean my head on his shoulder, careful not to jostle James. "We could go for dinner there tomorrow. Make it a family thing."
"I'd like that." His arm wraps around me, pulling me closer. Maya is chattering about something that happened at school, something involving her friend Tina and recess and apparently a very impressive bug, and Carter listens with genuine interest, asking questions and making her laugh.
This is my favorite time of day. When Carter comes home and we're all together. Just the four of us and Biscuit, sitting on this porch in the late afternoon sun, existing in our little bubble of happiness.
Three years ago, I never could have imagined this. Never could have pictured myself as a wife and stepmother and new mother,married to a man who wears a motorcycle club cut and has "Riot" as his road name.
But here I am. Here we are.
"Mommy?" Maya's voice pulls me from my thoughts. She's looking at me with those dark eyes so like her father's. "Can we have spaghetti for dinner? Please?"
Mommy. She started calling me that about a year ago, after asking both Carter and me if it was okay. I'd cried, happy tears that I tried to hide but failed, and told her I'd be honored. Carter had gotten misty-eyed too, though he'd deny it if asked.
"Spaghetti sounds perfect," I tell her. "Want to help me make it?"
"Yes! Can I stir the sauce?"
"Absolutely. But first, go wash your hands. They're covered in glitter."
Maya scrambles off Carter's lap and runs inside, Biscuit following at a more sedate pace. The screen door slams behind them, a sound that used to annoy me but now just feels like home.
Carter and I sit in comfortable silence for a moment, James still sleeping peacefully. The evening is cool, the sky starting to turn golden as the sun begins its descent.
"What did Maya write on the card?" I ask quietly. "The part that made you tear up?"
