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Possession(Sons of Odin MC)(68)



“Vincent.” J.T. approached with a grin.

“Brother.” Vincent embraced him.

“Happy Thanksgiving, J.T.,” Tina said.

“Looks more like Christmas to me.” J.T. whistled at her new leathers. “Give me one of those model pivots. I want to see that patch.”

Tina slowly turned, pausing with her back to J.T.

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d let a woman ride on your bike. I’m happy for both of you.”

“Thank you.” Tina gave J.T. a hug. “Now what about you?”

“Me?” J.T. took a long swig of beer. “I’m too young to settle down. Twenty-five and living a dream.”

“Too young?” Vincent repeated sarcastically. “Just too stubborn—something I remember you telling me a few months back.”

“Maybe.”

“I have a couple of single girlfriends,” Tina offered.

J.T. held up his hand. “Take it easy on me. If I wanted an old lady, I’d drive to Colorado and drag Violet back here like a caveman.”

“Violet?” Vincent asked. “That girl you picked up from the Denver Art Museum on our last long-distance run? The one who ran screaming from the clubhouse?”

“Yeah.” J.T.’s smile faded to a frown. “She didn’t run, Brother, she walked out.”

Tina wrapped her arm around J.T.’s waist. “You like her?”

He nodded. “More than I should.”

“Then don’t let her slip away.” Tina stepped back and took Vincent’s hand. “Think we could take another short ride before dessert?”

“Anything for you.” Vincent fist-bumped J.T., then walked Tina outside.

He felt like an asshole for pressing J.T. The man obviously had his own demons to contend with. Love had punched Vincent in the gut a few times until recently. And he wanted nothing but the best for his favorite Brother. J.T. had shown how valuable he was to the club. And if Vincent were ever president, he’d choose J.T. as his vice. That’s how much he respected and trusted him with his life.

After he climbed on his bike, Tina perched behind him, her arms once again locked around his center. “I love you, Tina.”

“Promise to say that to me again and again.”

Vincent laughed and started his Harley.

As the wind whipped through his hair, he chanted the Sons of Odin creed. Live hard. Die hard. Now a third part needed to be added. Love hard.

And he would, forever.