"Don't worry, Sheriff," I said, starting the engine. "I'll take good care of her."
Bill Jenkins' expression could have melted steel. But Quinn just pressed closer, and we'd won this round.
The ride to the clubhouse was pure freedom. Quinn's arms tight around me, her body pressed against mine, the whole town watching us pass. No more hiding. No more sneaking around. Just us, out in the open, consequences be damned.
The clubhouse parking lot held a handful of bikes. Good—enough brothers to make it official, not so many that Quinn would feel overwhelmed. She climbed off, pulling off the helmet, hair wild.
"You sure about this?" I asked. "Meeting the club? It's a big step."
"I'm sure." She took my hand, interlacing our fingers. "If we're doing this, we're doing all of it."
Inside, Viper sat at the bar with Wraith and Phoenix. Tank worked the pool table with Blade. Conversations died when we entered.
"Brothers," I announced, Quinn's hand still in mine, "this is Quinn. My old lady."
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat. Then Viper stood, approaching with that measured walk that meant assessment, calculation.
"Deputy Jenkins," he said carefully.
"Just Quinn here," she replied, meeting his gaze steadily. "I'm off duty."
"You understand this is complicated? A cop and an MC?—"
"I understand." She didn't back down an inch. "I'm not here as a cop. I'm here as Wolf's... whatever old lady means exactly."
"It means you're his," Viper said simply. "And that makes you ours. Family. Protected."
"I can accept that." Quinn's mouth quirked. "Look, I know this is weird. You're cautious about having a cop around—I get it. Hopefully I can earn your trust. But just... don't do any shady shit around me and we'll be fine." She winked, and Phoenix hid a grin behind his beer.
The tension broke. Viper actually smiled—a rare occurrence. "Fair enough."
"Quinn!"
Tara appeared from the back room, Izzy's artwork in her hands—probably decorating the clubhouse again. She crossed quickly, pulling Quinn into a hug that surprised them both.
"I'm so glad there's another old lady! It's been just me surrounded by all this testosterone." Tara pulled back, grinning. "We need to stick together."
"I'd like that," Quinn said, relaxing visibly.
"Come on, let me show you around. Did Wolf explain about the patches? And the rules? They pretend it's all complicated but really it's just—" Tara led her away, chattering about club life while Quinn shot me an amused look over her shoulder.
"The sheriff's daughter," Phoenix said, shaking his head. "You really know how to complicate shit, brother."
"Yeah, well." Quinn laughed at something Tara said, more relaxed than I'd ever seen her. “It keeps life interesting.”
We stayed for an hour, long enough for Quinn to get comfortable, to understand what being an old lady meant. She handled it perfectly—friendly but not trying too hard, asking questions without prying, making it clear she was with me, not investigating them.
When we finally left, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky orange and pink. Quinn climbed on the bike withouthesitation, arms wrapping around me like she'd been doing it for years.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Anywhere," she said against my back. "Just ride."
So I did. Took the mountain roads as the sun disappeared, Quinn pressed against me, her arms tight around my waist. No destination, no plan, just us and the bike and the open road.
This morning she'd been sneaking out, worried about being seen. Tonight, the whole town knew. Her father knew. The club knew.
Quinn Jenkins—sheriff's daughter, deputy, rule follower—had chosen me. Publicly. Defiantly. Completely.
