“You’re ours now—forever,” Merci added, her voice cracking.
I wiped a tear from her cheek and reached down to pick up Kolter. I bounced him on my hip. He yawned, clearly over the excitement already.
We headed back to the clubhouse, our friends and family waiting to celebrate our growing family at this year’s Memorial Day barbecue. Rhetta and Kenna had turned the place into a full-blown family carnival with a bounce house, a cotton candy machine, and a cooler full of juice boxes. Charlotte shadowed Jessa to the table with Gracie. Kolter’s head lolled on my chest, his muffled snores sounding across me.
Thane strolled up and pulled a cigar from his mouth. He smacked me on the back. “This club’s becoming a goddamn daycare center,” he complained.
But I didn’t miss his grin when Isabella challenged him to a squirt gun war with Tilly, Talia, and Leo.
Reaper and Eva approached, each carrying a twin.
“Shit, I forgot the diaper bag,” Eva said. She pushed Harland toward Kenna. “Will you hold him while I run back?”
Kenna held her hands in the air and backed away. “How about I go get your bag, and you hold onto your semen demon?” She jogged away before Eva could even respond.
I chuckled. Despite the growing Mavericks family, Kenna still avoided the children as if she were afraid of catching baby fever.
Reaper bounced Harper in his arms, the tulle of her pink dress ruffling.
“How’s Harper the Hellion?” I asked.
Reaper shook his head, exasperated. “Now that she can walk, we can’t keep her out of trouble. She’s lucky she’s cute. You ready to see it? I dropped it off by your van.”
“Hell yeah. Thanks for building it for me.”
“Building what?” Merci asked suspiciously.
I grinned, shifting Kolter from my shoulder into her arms. “Reaper built the kids a mini bar. So they can play bartender.”
Merci’s jaw dropped. “What happened to the kitchen idea?”
I chuckled. “The bar is way cooler. It’ll teach them entrepreneurship. I already ordered a little cash register and a cocktail shaker. We can let them mix juices into mocktails, and we’ll pay. It’seducational.”
She shook her head. “Only you would think that teaching our kids to bartend is a good idea.”
“It’s going to give them employable skills,” I argued.
Merci rolled her eyes, but her grin gave her away. She loved it.
Laughter carried across the yard, punctuated by rumbling bikes and the crack of a cold beer. The clubhouse had never felt more like home.
Merci leaned into me. “You happy?”
I looked at her and then at everything I never thought I’d have. Three kids, a sister, our dog, and even that goddamn minivan.
My chest tightened. “Yeah, Hellcat. Happier than I’ve ever been.”
She smiled against me, and the restless energy that had haunted me my entire life finally vanished. I’d spent years pretending I didn’t want anything real, burning through bikes, booze, and broads who never meant a damn thing to me.
Merci showed me love didn’t stay inside the lines. It didn’t care about boundaries or a code. It tore right through them.
I paused and gazed at the framed photo Kenna had hung in the lobby. Me and Dr. Patel in our white coats and stethoscopes, beside my mom, Kenna, and Eva, posing in front of the doors withballoons and a bottle of champagne. We’d opened a few months after the women’s center’s ribbon cutting—funded by donors, friends, and even the Mavericks.
Under Dr. Patel—whom I’d hired as our lead doctor so she could continue to mentor me—I started to build my career. And, because we were a free clinic, I no longer had to worry about fighting with the insurance companies to give my patients the care they deserved.
I flipped through the chart. It was a story I’d heard too many times. Another woman hurt at the hands of a man who shouldn’t be allowed to take another breath.I knocked before entering the room.
After a quick exam, I leveled my gaze at my patient. “I can get you into the shelter today. The center will support you every step of the way, from getting a job to legal aid. You don’t have to go back to him.”
