I stood at the makeshift altar, outside in the huge open valley at the foot of the Smokies. Dust's family owned land around here going back years. He put it to good use when the time came for shindigs like these.
Whatever else I still had to learn about MC life, I had a feeling nothing – and I mean nothing – compared to this.
The words coming out of the oddball preacher man's mouth washed over me. Meg stood next to Skin. Her decked in lily white, a short dress that clung close to her body. Him, with a cut he'd cleaned up so much it glowed in the sunlight, a new coat of polish on his boots that must've wiped away all the blood and violence they'd waded through.
“Do you, Parker Bradley, take this woman...”
I let myself look at Joker. We were right behind the happy couple, waiting, next in line. He turned his head, barely holding in a smile.
Fuck, you look beautiful. Every single hungry glance he gave said it. We were beyond words – one more way this wedding was anything but traditional.
“Yeah, I do. Shit.” Skin covered his face, as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I've been waiting to say those words since the second I saw you, babe, down on your knees in front of me, begging for help.”
Off to the side, Grandpa sat in his chair, with Alex on his lap. He'd taken his place with the rest of the crew, two Taylors mixed into the club, two generations going back to the same source.
Without the club, I wouldn't be here. Without Joker, I wouldn't have the club, my son, or my sanity.
The little boy probably didn't understand what was happening, but he knew it had to be big. He just stared at us, wide eyed, shifting ever-so-slightly in his great grandfather's lap.
“And do you, Megan Willow Wilder, take this man to be –“
“That'll do,” she cut in, sassy as ever. “Of course I do!”
Preacher man smiled. He seriously looked like an ordinary church man, and I quietly wondered what he'd done to wind up so hitched to the club for these weddings.
Joker decided just then to grab my hand. His fingers pushed through mine, and I heard a low, feral growl vibrate through his throat as he gave me that look.
Shit. Forget about preacher man.
Suddenly, I couldn't wonder about anything except how I was going to make it through this ceremony without freezing up, thinking about all the ways he'd rip off my clothes, press me down on the bed, or maybe just the forest floor, and fuck me until I screamed.
Love mingled with lust, romping in his eyes. I beamed back, refusing to bite my lip.
Anything to pretend I still had a little control here. Yeah, right.
“All right, all right already!” preacher man stumbled over his last words, giving in to the raw desires seething through the crowd. “By the power invested in me by the Deadly Pistols MC and the state of Tennessee, you may now kiss the –“
Heaven itself wouldn't have been able to hear the word bride. Deafening biker applause and cheers drowned out everything. Small as it was, they all made up for it, and so did the enthusiastic girls from the Ruby Heel and the scant few relatives from Meg's side who'd decided to show up.
They kissed – and boy, what a kiss.
Joker's eyes grew hotter on my skin every second. I knew he was thinking hard, wondering how he'd outdo the explosive passion Skin poured on his woman.
In a couple more seconds, I'd find out.
His hand pulled me forward. The row in the crowd died down just enough for preacher man to start over, reaching up to fix his spectacles.
“Dearly beloved, brothers of the Deadly Pistols, we're gathered here today...”
I looked at Joker, falling deep into his bright hazel eyes. Maybe deeper than ever before.
There was beauty. There was love. There was pain. There was life.
The preacher's words washed over me. That fire on my skin became a roar underneath it, warming my blood, turning everything molten.
When he looked at me, his eyes pinned me down. But sometimes his eyes broke away, traveling down to my feet, and slowly, achingly rising.
The beautiful bastard stripped me bare with his eyes.
And up here, in front of him, God, and all the brothers, I felt completely naked. Vulnerable.
But vulnerable, and loved. Did I really need any more confirmation I'd made the right choice, becoming an outlaw's bride?
“Do you, Jackson Taylor, take this woman...in sickness and in health...'til death do you part?”
“Yeah, but I ain't gonna say what you're waiting for. I've got my own vows.”
Huh? My mouth fell open. I looked on in total surprise, only coming out of it when he grabbed my hand with both of his, and shook them gently.
“Baby, lovin' you taught me there's heaven and hell in this life. More important, it showed me some things are meant to be. Call it fate.” He paused, squeezing my little hand tighter. “I thought I lost everything for good the night my brother died. All those rotten years, I had. Lost myself, lost my brothers, lost my family. Lost you. First time you stepped back in my life, I told myself I didn't need that shit. Thought I could never have it all, because it'd all been taken away for good.”