Son of a Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #3)

“Flowers?” I mumbled, flipping to the next page.

And that’s when my breath caught.

Because what I thought was just some hotel flyer, wasn’t.

It was a cream piece of cardstock paper with gold embellishments on the side, shining and bright to bring attention to the words between the border.

And the words, yeah, those were shockers.

CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE

This certificate certifies that

Ernest Alan Reacher and Verity Ruthann Cassidy Were united in marriage on this day The third day of July two thousand sixteen.

The ceremony was officiated and witnessed by Johnathan Roy Presley and Jezebell Reanald Corriander.

My stomach churned.

What had we done?

I did the only thing I could do.

I went to my GG, marriage certificate in hand, and cried onto her shoulder.





***


“I’m scared,” I whispered to my grandmother.

My GG looked over at me, her face softened.

“If I could have anything in this world back right now, it would be your grandfather,” she murmured softly.

My heart constricted.

“I know,” I whispered. “I wish for him to be back all the time.”

Her smile was soft and reassuring, but I could also see the sadness in her eyes.

“I think about him every night as I get ready for bed. I think about him when I close my eyes.” She took a shaky breath. “But in my dreams, he’s right back where he belongs. At my side.” Her mouth pinched. “I knew that Kenneth wasn’t for you, but you were happy, so who was I to say that he wasn’t for you?”

I didn’t reply.

“Does he take your breath away?”

I knew we were no longer talking about Kenneth, but about Truth.

“Yes,” I said simply.

“What about when you’re sleeping?” she asked. “Can you sleep without him?”

I thought about the night before, how I’d laid in bed for hours and hours just willing myself to finally go to sleep, only to let my mind wander to where it ultimately wanted to go. Him.

And then I’d be lost all over again.

“No,” I finally admitted.

“The true test is,” she stood up and walked to a picture of my grandfather and her that was hanging on the wall next to the kitchen sink. It was an older one, one that was taken two days before they got married forty-seven years ago. “Can you imagine your life without him? Does it hurt to think about him not being there anymore?” her voice cracked. “Can you see yourself going on a trip without him? Can you think about buying a car without his input? What about choosing paint color? When you think about what color you’re painting the living room, can you imagine doing it without first getting his input? Because,” she smiled, “if you can’t, then you’re already gone. If you think about him more than you think about anything else, you’ve already made the decision. Now stop putzing around and go get your man.”

I stood up.

“But…his background.”

My GG stared at me.

“I would’ve stood by your grandfather if he’d done those things …and I wouldn’t have questioned him. He would have been mine, and that was the only question I ever needed answered.” She hesitated. “What you’ve told me about your man, is that he really does care for you. He’s made some bad decisions, yes, but he hasn’t done anything so sinful that he won’t be redeemed at the end of his life. If tomorrow he was gone, dead never to come back again, what would you do?”

And that was that.

Everything she said was the truth, and I needed to stop thinking so hard with my head and let my heart lead a bit.

“You’re right,” I admitted fully.

She smiled.

“I already knew I was right. It just took you knowing that you were.”

With that I walked out my GG’s door and went to find my man.

She was right.

I didn’t care about what he’d done in his past.

I didn’t care if he wanted to become a contract killer and hunt down men for the rest of his life.

If that time came, I’d be there when he got home.

With my arms wide open.

Now I just had to convince him that he wanted the same.





Chapter 14


Leg shaving season is here, and I’m not mentally prepared.

-Things that come out of Verity’s mouth

Truth

I shut off my motorcycle and looked at my house.

It didn’t look different, but I knew she was there.

I’d said some awful things to her the other day, so for her to be back meant that maybe I hadn’t fucked things up as badly as I’d thought.

But likely, I had, and she was just here to make me feel even worse.

I swear if she was crying, I was going to apologize on my goddamned knees for years if that was what it took.

The last six days had been pure hell.

I’d said those nasty words to her, and I hadn’t been able to get a hold of her since. I’d called. Texted. Sent out goddamned search parties. The men that I’d put on her couldn’t find her. They reported that she never went home that night after I’d kicked her out of my bed, and I’d been a nervous wreck until she was found shopping at the goddamned mall yesterday afternoon.

Happy as could be buying goddamned lingerie of all things.

When Aaron had spotted her there while he was there with his wife, he’d immediately called me, told me where she was and said that he’d keep an eye on her until one of our prospects could get there and tail her to wherever the hell she’d been hiding.

Then he’d had fuckin’ lunch with her while Aaron’s wife, Imogen, and Verity had a grand ol’ time talking about babies, marriages and what they wanted out of life.

To make matters worse, I’d stayed away, knowing I couldn’t go and potentially expose her.

If Beckett didn’t already know about Verity, which hopefully was the case, then I wanted to keep it that way.

Especially since I’d gone and fallen in love with her.

I’d just dismounted my bike when I heard someone pull up behind me.

And immediately sighed when I saw Destiny pop out of the car, followed immediately by Kenneth, who looked less than excited to be in my driveway.

I heard my front door open, and I turned to look at Verity.

She was wearing short jean shorts that likely barely covered her ass—mostly I could tell this by the fact that they were barely covering her pussy—and one of my sleeveless t-shirts that I used to work out in. It was one of those ones where the arm holes extended from the shoulder all the way to the ribs…when I was wearing it. On Verity, the hole extended from her shoulder all the way to her waist.

I could see a black lace bra underneath, tantalizing me with small glimpses of what it was covering.

Her brown hair was all the way down her back in soft waves, and part of it was clipped back with what likely was bobby pins on top of her head, ensuring that none of her bangs were in her face.

She was holding a spatula in one hand, and a bottle of beer—one of my bottles of beer—in her other hand.

She took a sip, let her eyes linger on me, before moving to Kenneth and Destiny at the end of the driveway.