Page 50 of Santa Biker


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Eleven years ago—

I couldn’t wait to get back to Ani and Thunder. I rode hard, reaching Tonopah in a little over a day. Tired as fuck, I just wanted to see the two people I loved and missed over the last three days. Physically exhausted but mentally recharged, I rushed up the stairs, pushing through the front door.

“Hey! Where are you guys? My dude, I have great news.”

Anita left our bedroom. “Shhh. He just fell back to sleep. Late night.”

Aw. They must have missed me just as much.

“Tiger,” I whispered, probably too loud, “Don’t be mad at me, but I did something for the little guy.” My saddlebags dropped on the dining room table as I moved in her direction.

Frowning, I noticed the salty streaks staining her cheeks. “What the—You’ve been crying?” I rushed to her side, but she held up her hands.

“Oh, just torturing us with some Joe Young.”

The movie they both adored with a few sad moments.

I grabbed my chest. “Ah, fuck. You okay?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

My head lowered, resting over hers as I held her tight.

She pulled away, wiping under her eyes. I should have thought the moment through, but I had such happy news to share. It blocked my usually observant senses. “Hey, uh, can I ask you to get us milk? I ran out last night.”

“Babe, I did it. I found him,” I exclaimed, elated.

“Who—”

“His father.”

She covered her mouth in shock. “Wait—”

“Can you believe it? And he’s good, Tiger. Just what every boy needs.”

Ani’s arms slid over my shoulders. She stole my attention with words I had ached to hear for months from her. Powerful words.

“I love you.”

My mouth parted. “Babe.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “I always will.”

My world felt whole and complete. I sucked in air, finally asking the question I’d been holding back. I knew how she’d answer now. “Will you be my ol’ lady?”

She cried through a smile. “Yes.”

My mouth slammed down on hers, sealing the commitment with a kiss.

One taste. One touch of heaven . . . before hell.

My head throbbed as my eyes slowly opened, taking in the quiet apartment. Too quiet. Wincing, I touched the back of my head, feeling the sizeable sore bump.

The fuck?

Slowly, I dragged myself to my knees, struggling to focus. My vision blurred, and I panted out a series of unsteady breaths. A couple of minutes ticked by before I could find the strength to stand.

With one hand on the nearest wall, I managed to rise to my feet, scanning the apartment. Clean, as usual, except for the box of cereal on the counter and a gallon of milk. Thunder loved cereal.

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