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Art peered up and saw me. “There she is!”
As he jogged up two more flights, another agent was asking Diesel, “This kid is a Ryder now?”
Like a freaking force of nature, Diesel bounded up the porch stairs, his shoulders and presence demanding attention and room to move. “Nah.” He took the last step, placing his hands on his hips. “He’s my son.”
“Jesus Christ,” grumbled an agent.
No, Diesel wasn’t more powerful than the agency at my doorstep, but he had connections and was about to complicate the case these men were building against Thunder.
The lead agent was older, running his fingers through his graying hair. “Diesel, I can’t have you interfering—”
“With my son’s lawyer?” He left the agent where he stood to approach Hellion. “No, I agree. You know the Thompsons Law Firm, right?” As the agent paled, Diesel winked. “He’s on his way.”
Out of breath, Art took a knee in front of me, whispering, “You have to say yes.”
I blinked. “To what?”
The agent followed Diesel across the front porch, his shiny shoes in stark contrast to the worn biker boots he was following. “Diesel, she’s underage—”
My heart sank. With numerous funerals, including a public one I didn’t even get to attend, I hadn’t thought about being underage and without a parent.
Diesel added, “And engaged.”
The agent’s jaw dropped, along with mine and Hellion’s.
Art’s blue eyes, so similar to Thunder’s, begged me to go along with this.
I sat up straight. Am I going to get to marry Thunder? When I was a little girl, I proclaimed that I would marry my best friend, but Daddy told me, “Over my dead body.”
I covered my mouth. “Oh my god.”
From the open door, I saw that Hellion was gone, replaced by the sweet boy staring up at me. His anxious face was laced with fear that I wouldn’t want this.
I opened my mouth to tell Thunder how happy he was making my heart, but an agent interrupted with, “Diesel! She’s in North Carolina! Her court appointed guardian has to agree—”
“Oh, yes, her brother, Grant.” He pulled folded paperwork from his back pocket. “This morning, the court approved Mr. Stannon’s will and made him her legal guardian.” Still holding the paper, Diesel pointed to the driveway. “Wouldn’t you know it? I just saw him on the side of the road…” Mindlessly, he waved the paper in the air. “Bad gas or some shit like that.”
Chubs choked out a laugh before swallowing it.
The paper smacked his shoulder, Diesel smiling big. “Must’ve been fate.” The MC president faced the agent, spreading his arms wide. “I got to congratulate him on the upcoming wedding that he so totally approves of.” He guided Thunder inside. “And as a wedding gift, Grant is willing to watch over every horse but one.” He winked up at me. “No girl can honeymoon without her favorite horse.”
“Diesel,” the elder agent tried, “there’re no signs of life for Mr. Stannon—”
“Then you better get to investigating!” He slammed the door.
The agents, with all the bikers and Chubs staring at them, decided to load up in their SUVs and leave. For now. We all knew they would be back, but there was something else I wanted to discuss before worrying about that.
Bikers piling into the house, I quietly called out, “Thunder?” as I stood up.
Swallowing, he gazed at me. Barely audible, he replied, “I’m so sorry.”
I grabbed my chest. “You don’t want to marry me?” Was it because of my daddy? Was I … tainted? Up in the bathroom, was it too much? “I didn’t want Daddy to…”
Every man froze, to the point I wasn’t sure they were breathing. Except Artist. His hand touched my shoulder, giving me the strength to finish as if he knew it was important.
“Touch me.”
Hellion had returned. He was seething at me. “There is nothing‚ and I mean fucking nothing in this goddamn world or any other, that will ever keep me from wanting you as my wife and everlasting soulmate.”
