Outlaw's Vow: Grizzlies MC Romance(145)

Jesus. What was I supposed to think? It was like they were meant to be together, and I'd kept them apart, delayed something beautiful and natural by being the most indecisive bitch in the world.

I wasn't ready to whack myself across the head. But I had to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong.

Roman might be a drunken cowboy on a steel horse, and a bastard to me, but could he be a good father after all?

Instead of fishing for an answer, I swallowed the lump in my throat, bridging the distance between us. I kneeled on the floor next to him, running my fingers softly through Caleb's little crop of hair. It was getting darker by the day. He'd really look like Roman in a few more years, and I wasn't sure how the hell to feel about that.

Surely, it couldn't be worse than the giant in his leather cut staring right at me.

“You seriously fed him?” I asked.

“Yeah. Went down easy too. It's almost fun when he stops fussing.”

“Well, let's put him to bed,” I said, reaching for the boy and pulling him out of the biker's arms as gently as I could. Roman stood up and followed me.

We took a moment, staring at the little man we'd created as he turned over. I wasn't sure what the hell we were doing, but I couldn't ignore the fact that it felt like a real family moment. Almost.

If only he hadn't treated me so shitty. If only I hadn't cut him off for almost two years. If only the cartel hadn't come and the MC wasn't so vicious. If only I wasn't born so none of this would've happened.

“Babe, you okay?”

No, goddamn it. I wasn't. I'd been living for about a week with the risk of every word striking my ears triggering tears, and it was starting to get really exhausting.

“I'll be fine. It's just a long day.”

“Yeah, that's moving for you. Want me to finish putting your bed together, or what?” A sharp glint entered his eyes.

Do you want to bury the hatchet by fucking all night? That was what I heard behind his words, and my whole body flushed accordingly.

“Jesus, no!” It came out way more forcefully than I wanted, and he blinked in surprise. “I mean, I've still got my sleeping bag. I'll be fine. We can get it together tomorrow and start putting things in their places.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What bedroom are you taking tonight?” I asked, genuinely curious, and also a little afraid he was going to demand mine.

“This one. I'm gonna spend the night with my son. I'll crash on the floor. Every fucking minute counts when I've missed so much.” He said it softly, but it still hurt like hell.

“Okay. You know where to find me if he causes any trouble, or you need help.” I started heading for the door, but before I could get out, he grabbed my wrist.

“Don't worry about that shit. The kid's an angel. You did good, Sally.”

I smiled, slowly pulled my hand from his, and slipped outside. I gave the door a gentle pull shut behind me.

When I got back to my room, and nestled into the sleeping bag, the waterworks came like lava. Intense, heartwarming, and suffocating all at once.



I woke up near dawn feeling refreshed for the first time in a million years. I tiptoed toward the bedroom next door, cracked the door, and saw Roman sprawled out on the floor. He snored gently, shirtless and sculpted, laying parallel with Caleb's crib.

Somewhere in another world, maybe father and son shared some dreams.

I never knew something could be so touching and so fucking hot simultaneously. Staring at his chest too long was like gazing at the sun, and my pussy absorbed the heat, tingling with the memory of what his rough body did to me years ago.

It was like my flesh knew this was the man who'd knocked me up at some deep, primal level. And as bad as he'd screwed me over and pissed me off, my womb wanted more, wanted to feel his cock thrusting deep inside me.

I imagined him fucking me, biting my lip the entire time. His huge body shadowing mine, flinging me up and down like a ragdoll, burying himself to the hilt and growling in my ear when he unloaded. He'd fill me with what I craved – more of his potent seed – that strange, miraculous chemical cocktail I hadn't felt for years.

God. I had to get away, before I went in, woke him up, and made a huge fucking mistake.

It hadn't been twenty-four hours since I'd hated his guts. I was still his prisoner, after all, his old lady, only because he'd forced me out of my house and tagged me like a piece of meat with that tramp stamp.

Downstairs, Asphalt had started stuffing things in cabinets before he left. No surprise, the hotheaded biker didn't have a clue about organizing a kitchen. After about an hour shuffling things around, I wiped my brow, and then walked over to the fridge to see if I could pull anything together from the sparse ingredients he'd picked up on the way to the move.