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“You locking that down then?”
I scoffed. “Fuck yes, I am. I want it to be as inconvenient as possible for her if she ever tries to leave again. I plan on proposing as soon as we move in, and I keep trying to put a baby inside her.”
Killian laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck, stop. She’s like my little sister.”
We worked while talking shop for the next several hours, until all the sod had been laid and the irrigation had been set up to keep it alive. By the time we made our way back to the club, it was close to dinner, and all I wanted was to eat and then practice getting Callie pregnant. But as we pulled up to the clubhouse, we were met with chaos.
At least a hundred bikes were parked around the garage, spilling into the front yard and taking up the bonfire space. The doors were wide open, with members drinking, dancing, and partying. We hadn’t thrown a party like this in months due to the president’s sickness, and transition of power to me. It was poor taste to celebrate when your president was dying.
Parking the truck, Killian and I both piled out with confused expressions.
I didn’t think Callie would be mixed up in the madness inside, but I heard Max bark and then he was galloping, cutting through people, whipping them with his tail while he made his way to me.
I bent down to greet him with a pat to the stomach and chest.
“Where’s your mama?” I asked, walking inside with him on my heels.
Callie wouldn’t have left him inside unless she was here to make sure he was safe.
Searching the space, I found several members who only came around for special occasions and a lot of out of towners, some retired. Sweetbutts, new and old, were sitting in laps and serving beer. A few people were hanging out without a cut or patch but I just moved past them. I needed to find Callie.
I was searching over by the kitchen area when all the sudden the overhead music lowered and everyone huddled around me seemed to make a path by moving to the side. Max stood next to me, alert, with his head up, but then he darted forward as soon as I saw her.
Wearing her hair up high in a ponytail, Callie’s hazel eyes were lined with black, her dark lashes framing them. Her lips were plump and pink, glossed over with her favorite lip color. She wore those cute as fuck heeled boots, and a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass. Her shirt was trimmed in lace, cupping her breasts so tight it pushed them up, and there over her bare shoulders was a familiar leather cut.
My breathing hitched as I processed what she’d found.
Callie Stone just walked in wearing my property patch, looking like she was ready to fuck the devil, and I was completely at a loss for words. She looked like she just stepped out of one of my wet dreams.
“Mister President,” she flirted, tilting her head to the side.
A few people around us clapped, and a few seemed to be smothering smiles.
I stared into her hazel eyes, desperate to touch her. As soon as I reached out, she stepped back with a smirk.
“I have a question for you, sir.”
Smiling like a love-struck idiot, I laughed. “Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”
Perking up, she took two steps forward, allowing me to pull her into my arms.
“Great! Then it’s settled. I’ll marry you.”
Everyone let out a chorus of shouts and cheers as the party resumed, the music blaring and Max barking.
“Did you just propose to me?”
Tucking her face into my shoulder, she pressed a kiss to my neck before replying.
“Technically you agreed tomemarryingyou,but either way, we’re engaged.”
I made a pleased humming sound while holding her to me.
“So this is our engagement party then?”
Tipping her head back, those pink lips spread in a smile. “I guess it is.”
“Well, then, I want my own celebration.”
