Page 43 of My Single Dad Biker

"Clint is intense."

"That's just him. He liked you. Told me after."

"How could you tell?"

"He said you were good. That's high praise from Clint."

She smiles. "I liked them. They're protective of you."

"They're protective of family. You're family now."

Her smile fades. "Just like that?"

"Just like that. I claimed you. They respect that. You're under Vigil protection now which means if Marrow comes for me through you, they go through twenty armed men first."

She's quiet. "That's what this was really about."

"Partially. Also about making sure you know you're not alone in this. That there are people watching out for you beyond just me."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's what you deserve."

I kiss her then, deep and claiming, and when I pull back we're both breathing hard.

"I need to get Louis," I say.

"I know."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

I force myself to walk to my truck. Drive home with my hands tight on the wheel.

Louis is asleep when I get there. Ray's nephew says everything was fine. I thank him and lock up and check on Louis and then sit on my back porch in the dark.

Eight years since I brought a woman to church. Eight years since I wanted to. The brothers know what it means. Katherine knows what it means.

She's mine now. Publicly. Officially.

And I've never been more certain of anything.

Chapter 7 — Katherine

I wake up in Holt's bed and for three seconds I don't know where I am.

Then I remember.

Last night. Dinner at his house with Louis. Tacos because it was Wednesday. Louis talking through the entire meal about a project at school. Me helping with dishes while Holt got Louis ready for bed. Sitting on the couch after Louis was asleep and Holt's hand on my thigh and his mouth on mine and the quiet question of whether I wanted to stay.

I said yes.

It's been a week since the warehouse burn. Seven days since everything accelerated into something I'm still trying to process. But lying here in Holt's bed on Thursday morning, it doesn't feel too fast. It feels inevitable.

The bed is empty beside me. I sit up and the t-shirt I borrowed from Holt falls to mid-thigh. My clothes are folded on the chair by the window where I left them before we had sex slowly and with Louis asleep down the hall.

I hear movement downstairs. The coffee maker starting, and cabinet doors opening and closing. I get up and use the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a disaster.

I have a mark on my neck from Holt's mouth. My lips are still swollen from kissing. I look like exactly what I am. A woman who spent the night in her boyfriend's bed.