I published Taming Blaze as a stand-alone novel in April 2014. As I was writing the next book in the series, Saving Axe, which focuses on the self-destructive ex-Marine sniper Sergeant-at-Arms for the Inferno MC, I really wanted to go back and get Dani and Blaze's perspectives on what was happening in the club a year later. Part Two: Wedding Bells was added in June 2014, and serves as a bridge between Taming Blaze and the next novel in the series, Saving Axe.
Please enjoy Part Two of Taming Blaze.
“Yeah, this is cute. Totally.” I said it brightly, a little too brightly, as I looked at the wedding dress in the three full length mirrors that formed a semicircle in front of me. The dress was a strapless white knee length number made of taffeta and tulle? - I wasn't quite sure what the hell this dress was made of, but I knew it was more appropriate for a sixteen year old than someone who was about to head to law school at Stanford in a few months. It made me look like I was headed to my senior prom, not my wedding.
This was not what I was hoping to wear on my wedding day.
“Hmm. I don’t know,” Kate said, her brow furrowed, hand covering her mouth. “You should try the other one. I got married in something similar, with a train like that.”
I groaned inwardly. The other one was even worse - mini-skirt length in the front, with a train in the back, the corset made of white leather, and rhinestones dotted along the top. Not that there was anything wrong with it - but it really wasn’t my style. “Maybe I should try on something that looks a little bit more traditional.”
Mad Dog’s Old Lady "tsk-ed, tsk-ed" under her breath. “Girl, you can’t wear a traditional wedding dress. How are you going to get on the back of a bike? It needs to be short. Now, let me see that other dress on you. I think that one might be a winner.”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell her what I thought of these wedding dresses. And of the whole idea of having a wedding at the clubhouse. Before I graduated from Stanford a few days ago, my college friends were clamoring for invites, half of them intrigued by the idea that I was about to marry a biker and chomping at the bit to see the inside of a real clubhouse; and the other half repulsed by the thought and terrified by the idea of rubbing shoulders with a bunch of criminals.
And me? I'd been so busy with school that I hadn't had time to think about what I wanted. But I knew myself well enough to know that I didn't want this.
Instead of telling Kate I wanted a normal dress, I shut my mouth, nodded, and went back inside the dressing room to try on the one she had picked.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved Blaze. I loved who he was. I loved the club - most of it. And I loved the guys in the club - most of them. They had welcomed me in when I'd become Blaze's Old Lady. But at the same time, I was an outsider.
A year ago, back when everything was still new, I thought I’d found a family. It was all rainbows and sunshine and perfection. Well, you know, as perfect as it could be to become a part of a group of outlaw bikers working for an international smuggler. Perfect in a warped kind of way, I guess.
But now? A year later, it wasn’t exactly all rainbows and sunshine and butterflies anymore. The bloom had worn off the rose, so to speak.
What a cliché.
The truth was, I was still an outsider, different from most of the other Old Ladies. For one, I’d spent most of the last year up in Palo Alto, finishing up my senior year at Stanford. That wasn’t doing me any favors in terms of being friendly with the other girls, since I knew they thought I was just a big snob. And being Benicio’s daughter, the kid of the club’s employer, only contributed to that perception. Not to mention the fact that I was about to head to law school at UCLA in the fall. Even though I'd been raised in a criminal family, I think people still thought that my being an attorney would make be inevitably become some kind of rat.
I’d overheard several of the other Old Ladies talking about it one night at a club event. I stood there, outside the room, listening to them talk shit about how they didn’t trust me, how I was a stuck up bitch. Instead of calling them out on it, I plastered a smile on my face and walked in, pretended I hadn’t heard what they’d said. It was right after I'd shot Guillermo, and I was just exhausted. Their bitching just seemed so petty in comparison to what had just happened.
But after a month or so went by, I was pretty sure their perception of me hadn't changed one bit. I was also pretty sure I had made the wrong move by not saying something back then. There was a hierarchy to the club, and the same was true for Old Ladies. Kate was Mad Dog’s Old Lady, which made her top dog within the group of girls. But I was Blaze’s Old Lady, which made me next in line.