Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

Almost as much as climbing on my bike for the fifth time since the showdown with the Deads. It hurt like hell going more than a few miles.

Damn if it wasn't worth it, though. I'd lost the walker awhile ago, and borrowed one of Grandpa's old canes about a week longer.

I'd never been happier to give anything up, when I finally kicked them both to the curb.

Never would've believed I'd take moving on my own two feet for granted, or jumping on my Harley without a second thought.

After this brutal fuckery, I never would again.

I rode, free from all the demons.

Freddy's ghost didn't haunt me no more, except when I saw him in my dreams. His face was back. So were his eyes, and his smile.

I dreamed about the good times instead of the bad. Dreamed about us wrestling, laughing, beating up on each other in the mud and the grass with grandpa watching from the porch, just like when we were kids.

The Deads were...well, pretty fuckin' dead. And they'd stay that way.

Intel said the motherfuckers left behind in Georgia and Florida after we'd killed their Prez were fighting like headless snakes. They'd be too busy killing each other across the deep south to think about retaliation anytime soon.

Grandpa, he'd never been so fuckin' happy. Not since before they closed down Robby's place in Seddon. Not since Freddy was still breathin'.

Every Sunday, he was up early, sitting in his chair waiting for us, ready to take a summer stroll around the pond behind the home with me, Summer, Alex, and Bingo at his side.

We never let the kid outta our sight. Ever.

Today, I was free. Balmy mid-summer wind tore across my face like nobody's business, sweeping down from the Smokies; haze, humidity, and all.

Today was the day. The shit I'd been working on for the last week sat in my pocket. It was missing one more piece, the most expensive one, but I couldn't fuckin' wait.

Not since my girl got herself branded last week.

PROPERTY OF JOKER, the big, dark tattoo across her shoulder read. Firefly did the ink with the same care and attention he'd used on his own girl, Cora, her belly getting bigger by the day as her due date crept up.

Seeing that shit only made me want to fuck my girl harder. Longer. Spill my balls inside her every chance I got, and throw those fuckin' pills she popped every morning to keep from getting knocked up in the fire pit with a light.

No, goddammit.

Had to keep a lid on my lust, just a little while longer. I'd already been fuckin' her for the past week when Laynie said I shouldn't, telling me it could still do damage.

It'd been torture staying away from that * while I was laid up. Almost as bad as feeling what I had in my pocket, ready to burn a hole right through it, if I didn't hand it over the second she walked through the door.

A short ride later, I walked into my place. Cora sat in front of the TV with Bingo and Alex, all three of them watching some kid's show with a pirate singing about booty or some shit.

“Seems about right,” I said, standing by the door. Couldn't help but feel a little damn appreciation for the bastards who used to rule the seas, the same way the clubs ran the roads.

Alex jumped up right away, toddling toward me, a sunny smile on his little face. Bingo raced ahead of him, and I got down on my knees as the big dog crashed into me, licking my face.

“You're home early!” Cora said, standing, her baby bulge like a small basketball. “Firefly won't come by for another twenty minutes to get me.”

“Figured you could use some extra down time since you're getting closer to the big day. You're doing us a solid, watching him like this after your shift.”

“Oh, please.” She stuck out her tongue and waved her hand. “My pleasure. I need all the practice I can get. Just hope my own turns out half as sweet as Alex.”

My son put a big fat exclamation point on it by jumping as high as his little knees would allow, hanging around my neck like a damned monkey. I hauled him up, carrying him on my shoulders, grinning while Bingo raced around us.

Yeah, this was the life. Just needed to put one more thing where it belonged.

“You heard from Summer?” I asked her, walking over and taking my spot in the chair across from the sofa. Shifted the kid down into my lap, all the better for him to grab at the dog.

“She's about five minutes out! Texted me a little while before you walked through the door. I think she meant to beat you here to start dinner.” Cora smirked. “She's picking up fast at the Heel. Kinda feels like torture watching her mix the drinks, knowing it'll be a few more months before I can try them!”

“Yeah, she's a quick learner. Always has been.”

“Yup. This club's really becoming a family thing, isn't it? We've got our business, our spouses, our kids. Maybe in a few more years I won't have to see all those drunken skanks wandering around for the single guys.”

“There'll always be bitches just for fuckin',” I said, turning up my nose. “Damned glad I don't need that * anymore to get off.”