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“They’re ready,” Em says, sticking her head back into the room. “Are you?”

“I’ve waited for this day all my life,” I tell her.

Em gives me a quick hug before she hands me off to her husband.

“Thank you for this,” I tell Kincaid as he smiles down at me.

“The pleasure is mine.”

The president of the Cerberus MC, a man who has taken up a spot that’s been missing in my life, walks me down the aisle where I marry the man of my dreams.

Chapter 40

Legacy

“It’s supposed to be good luck,” Stormy says, referring to the light spring rain that has managed to turn into a huge thunderstorm.

We were able to get through the vows before the sprinkle turned into a downpour, but no one in the room seems put out about the rain nor having to move the reception into the clubhouse.

“I’m not exactly upset about the way your dress is clinging to your body,” I tell Devyn, my eyes dipping a little lower than they should while standing in front of company.

Her cheeks heat just like I knew they would.

“Would you stop?” she pleads, but there’s humor in her tone.

“Do you two need a little private time?” Stormy asks.

“You mean more private time?” I ask, loving the way Devyn’s mouth hangs open.

We spent a few minutes celebrating our nuptials just after the ceremony. I discovered that there’s nothing much hotter than the way I bent her over the end of the bed with her dress still on. Even now, the threat of getting hard is very real because I know what I left behind on her skin.

She fans her face, trying to diminish the heat pooling under her skin. I fight the urge to do the same because there’s nothing this woman does that doesn’t turn me on these days.

Stormy chuckles, but lets his eyes roam over the crowd. There aren’t many people here that I don’t recognize, but I know everyone that is in attendance is on the approved list. Devyn’s parents took off only minutes before Devyn walked down the aisle, but I guess it means something that they made the trip at all. When I sent the invite, I expected hate mail in return. They didn’t say a word to me, although my mom and dad said they were cordial to them, avoiding nearly all conversation that was geared toward me. It’s as if they were here to support Devyn in some fucked-up way but couldn’t accept that I was involved. I realized long ago that I don’t get to dictate how people act or how they feel.

After what happened in Texas, security around here has gotten tighter. The guy who took Devyn has never been caught, but we managed to determine that the attack was meant to be solely on Cerberus members. It makes it a little harder to not feel guilty for what the community of Lindell endured because of us.

It’s common knowledge for anyone willing to do a little digging that Cerberus has its home base in Farmington, New Mexico, and that continues to put everyone here at risk despite the quiet over the last six months.

Several heads turn toward the door when the echo of the doorbell rings out over the soft music playing in the room.

Devyn stiffens, making me wonder if she thinks her parents will come back and stir up trouble, but I know that effort would be too much to ask for them.

Kincaid walks that way, checking the peephole before pulling the door open.

He blocks the person from entering, but the guy is extremely tall.

“This is about Janet and Carlen,” Stormy mutters, having recognized the man.

I feel horrible for my friend. He got the call just a few days ago that one of his oldest friends, Carlen, and his wife, Janet, were found murdered in their car. They have no suspects, but Stormy has spent some time in their hometown in recent days.

Kincaid looks over at us, but rather than flagging Stormy over, he starts to walk in our direction with the man.

“Fuck,” Stormy mutters. “What now?”

“Mr. Chilton,” the guy says as he approaches.

“Mr. Dobbs,” Stormy says, his tone reflecting his irritation.

“You missed the reading of the will.”

He blinks at the guy as if he’s confused. “They didn’t have much to their name. I’m surprised they had a will.”

“They did have one. It was older. It was done seven years ago right after their oldest son was born. It’s the only one they had, so it’s valid.”

“Okay,” Stormy says, shifting his weight on his feet as if he wants to run away.

“They named you the godfather, making you responsible for both kids.”

My heart literally stops, and I jerk my eyes toward Stormy, waiting for his reaction.

“I’m no one’s father,” he says.

“There’s someone else willing to take the children, Mr. Chilton, but the kids will have to go into care long enough for the courts to make sure the relative is safe and can provide for them.”

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